"I must regret your sad bereavement, and both you and Liane have my sincerest sympathy," the young man answered. The Captain glanced quickly at the Baronet's son with a strange, puzzled expression. He had spoken of his daughter familiarly by her Christian name, and evidently knew her well. He had not before suspected this. At that moment, however, the door opened, and a constable putting his head inside called his name. In obedience to the policeman's request he rose and followed him into the room wherein the court of inquiry had assembled. Having advanced to the table and been sworn, the Coroner addressing him, said,-- "Your name is Captain Erle Brooker, late of the Guards, I believe?" "Yes." "And you identify the body of the deceased. Who was she?" "Helen Mary Bridson, daughter of a brother officer, Captain Bridson. She was left an orphan eleven years ago, and I brought her up." "Did her father die in London?" "No, on the Continent." "Had she no relatives on her mother's side?" The Captain slowly stroked his moustache, then answered. "I knew of none." "Were you acquainted with her mother?" "No, I was not," he replied after a moment's reflection. "And you have no suggestion to make, I suppose, regarding any person who might have entertained ill-will towards the unfortunate girl?" inquired the grey-haired Coroner. "None whatever." "When did you last see her alive?" "On Monday evening, when she accompanied a visitor to the station to see him off on his return to London. She rode her cycle, and announced her intention of going on to Burghfield to make a purchase. She was found later on," he added, hoarsely. "Who was this visitor? What was his name?" "He was a friend, but I decline to give his name publicly," the Captain replied firmly. "I will, however, write it for your information, if you desire," and taking a pencil from his pocket he wrote the name of Prince Zertho d'Auzac and handed it to the Coroner. The eager onlookers were disappointed. They had expected some sensational developments, but it seemed as though the crime was too enshrouded in mystery to prove of any very real interest. They did not, however, fail to notice that when the Coroner read what the Captain had written, an expression of astonishment crossed his face. "Are you certain that the--this gentleman--left by the train he went to catch?" he asked. "Quite," answered Brooker. "Not only have the police made inquiry at my instigation, but I have also accompanied a detective to London, where we found my visitor. Inspector Swayne, as a result of his investigations, was entirely satisfied." "Had the unfortunate young lady any admirer?" "I think not." "Then you can tell us absolutely nothing further?" observed the Coroner, toying with his quill. "Unfortunately I cannot." The Captain, after signing his depositions, was directed to one of a row of empty chairs near the Coroner's table, and his daughter was called.