The Anglo-Indian smiled, a little contemptuously. He stood in a careless attitude, playing with the golden trinkets at his watch-chain, with the hot August sunshine streaming upon his face from a bare unshaded window opposite him. But he did not attempt to escape that almost blinding glare. He stood facing the sunlight; facing the gaze of the coroner and the jurymen; the scrutinizing glance of Arthur Lovell. Unabashed and _nonchalant_ as if he had been standing in a ball-room, the hero of the hour, the admired of all who looked upon him, Mr. Dunbar stood before the coroner and jury, and told the broken history of his old servant's death. "Yes," Mr. Lovell thought again, as he watched the rich man's face, "his nerves must be made of iron." CHAPTER XII. ARRESTED. The coroner repeated his question: "Why did you tell the deceased to join you at the cathedral, Mr. Dunbar?" "Merely because it suited my humour at the time to do so," answered the Anglo-Indian, coolly. "We had been very friendly together, and I had a fancy for going over the cathedral. I thought that Wilmot might return from the Ferns in time to go over some portion of the edifice with me. He was a very intelligent fellow, and I liked his society." "But the journey to the Ferns and back would have occupied some time." "Perhaps so," answered Mr. Dunbar; "I did not know the distance to the Ferns, and I did not make any calculation as to time. I merely said to the deceased, 'I shall go back and look at the cathedral; and I will wait for you there.' I said this, and I told him to be as quick as he could." "That was all that passed between you?" "It was. I then returned to the cathedral." "And you waited there for the deceased?" "I did. I waited until close upon the hour at which I had ordered dinner at the George." There was a pause, during which the coroner looked very thoughtful. "I am compelled to ask you one more question, Mr. Dunbar," he said, presently, hesitating a little as he spoke. "I am ready to answer any questions you may wish to ask," Mr. Dunbar replied, very quietly. "Were you upon friendly terms with the deceased?" "I have just told you so. We were on excellent terms. I found him an agreeable companion. His manners were those of a gentleman. I don't know how he had picked up his education, but he certainly had contrived to educate himself some how or other." "I understand you were friendly together at the time of his death; but prior to that time——" Mr. Dunbar smiled. "I have been in India five-and-thirty years," he said. "Precisely. But before your departure for India, had you any misunderstanding, any serious quarrel with the deceased?" Mr. Dunbar's face flushed suddenly, and his brows contracted as if even his self-possession were not proof against the unpleasant memories of the past. "No," he said, with determination; "I never quarrelled with him." "There had been no cause of quarrel between you?"