The coroner persisted. I was thankful to him. His continued examination might make one of the witnesses nervous. The sleek Waters might contradict himself. The other two servants might relapse into a hopeless confusion of ideas as to what they had done and what they had seen. It was a delusive hope. All three adhered strictly to their statements, and finally there was another pause. Everyone appeared to wonder what was going to happen next. I thought I could guess the direction the proceedings would take. I was not mistaken. The detective passed a piece of paper to the coroner. The latter looked at it, and an expression of surprise crossed his face. He mentioned me by name almost with a suggestion of apology, as if he were deprecating the official side of him which insisted on a course of action repugnant to his more social and well-bred half. I did not look at Mr. Gascoyne, but I felt him stir in his chair uneasily as I rose to my feet. I moved to the foot of the table where the witnesses had stood during their examination. “You were left alone with Lord Gascoyne after the ladies had withdrawn?” “That is so.” “Can you recollect his lordship making any remark as to a curious taste in the wine?” “No.” “He made no remark?” “None at all.” The coroner paused, and then said: “Recall Richard Waters.” Richard Waters stepped into my place. For one moment I felt dizzy. A curious unreality seemed to surround the scene and its actors. I saw things through an ecstasy which seemed to remove me afar off. Everybody in the room bore a strange profile expression like great gaunt marionettes. After a few minutes the sensation passed, and I felt myself growing abnormally tense and keen; in fact, the acuteness of intelligence which I felt was in proportion to the recession from realities which had just possessed me. It had been an unconscious recoil, but my perception advanced with greater force because of it. “You came into the room when Lord Gascoyne and Mr. Rank were alone, I believe, to tell his lordship that Colonel Markham wished to see him in the library?” “Yes, sir.” “You then returned to the dining-room?” “Yes, sir.” “What for?” “His lordship told me to bring him his eye-glasses, which he had left on the table.” “What did you see?” “Mr. Rank had the decanter of claret in his hand.” “What did you do?” “I thought he had mistaken the decanter of claret for port, and I took it from him and helped him to port.” “But you say that the claret and port were in two totally different decanters. The claret was in a flagon?” “Yes, sir.” The port decanter and the flagon were here produced. No one could have imagined that the claret flagon held port; at least, so I thought, but it may have been my guilty conscience. The coroner continued his examination. “Please be very careful in your answers.” “Yes, sir.” “When you took the flagon from Mr. Rank, where was the stopper?” “On the table.” “You are quite sure?” “Quite.”