The bottle of claret had been opened and decanted by Waters. He had placed it on the sideboard. No one else had touched it. The servants were all devoted to their master. There was not the slightest reason or motive for foul play on their part. I noticed the detective sitting with the representatives of the county police, the chief constable himself being present. I smiled grimly as I surveyed all the materials for a very dramatic arrest. The coroner then called me. “After the ladies had withdrawn from the dinner-table on the evening in question you were left alone with Lord Gascoyne?” “That is so.” “He was called out of the room and a servant entered whilst he was away?” “Yes.” “Who declares that you had in your hand the claret decanter from which Lord Gascoyne had been drinking.” “I don’t remember. The servant took the decanter from me and poured out some port.” It was just as well I admitted this, for the servant’s statement received curious corroboration. “That will do.” The next two witnesses were disconcerting. They were the chemist from whom I had bought the arsenic and his assistant. I was confronted with every proof of my folly. I shall never forget the awful grayness which came over Lord Gascoyne’s face when these witnesses gave their evidence. I noticed that when they had finished everyone avoided looking at me. They seemed afraid. The case appeared so simple that at first it also appeared incredible. Those around hardly grasped it. The coroner asked me if I would like to explain why I had bought the arsenic. Perhaps I made a mistake in saying that I used it as a tonic. “Had I been in the habit of doing so?” was the next question. “Yes, I had done so before.” “Have you ever bought arsenic from that chemist before?” “No.” Here the family lawyer interposed, advising me to be very careful of my answers. I was not obliged to reply to anything which might incriminate me. There was nothing more to be done. Towards the end of the inquest the chief constable crossed to my side, and, sitting down in quite a friendly manner, asked me to accompany him after the inquest into the next room. The jury, evidently taking into consideration the fact that I was the next heir, that I had arsenic in my possession, that there was every motive, and that I was the only person who could have done it, returned a verdict of ‘Wilful murder’ against me. In my own eyes I stood convicted as the veriest bungler who ever danced at the end of a few yards of rope. Lord Gascoyne was inexpressibly horrified, and there was a something in his face which I had not seen before. Was it suspicion? Perhaps he was thinking of the occasion when he learned that I was in the Lowhaven hotel at the time of his son’s death. Truly I had made some inexcusable mistakes. If nothing succeeds like success, it is also true that nothing fails like failure.