"I always does. They went late, so I swept the room the next morning." "And threw the sweepings away, of course?" "Of course; would you have me keep them for treasures?" "It might have been well if you had," muttered the Coroner. "The combings from the lady's hair might have been very useful in establishing her identity." The porter who has charge of the lady's entrance was the last witness from this house. He had been on duty on the evening in question and had noticed this couple leaving. They both carried packages, and had attracted his attention first, by the long, old-fashioned duster which the gentleman wore, and secondly, by the pains they both took not to be observed by any one. The woman was veiled, as had already been said, and the man held his package in such a way as to shield his face entirely from observation. "So that you would not know him if you saw him again?" asked the Coroner. "Exactly, sir," was the uncomprising answer. As he sat down, the Coroner observed: "You will note from this testimony, gentlemen, that this couple, signing themselves Mr. and Mrs. James Pope of Philadelphia, left this house dressed each in a long garment eminently fitted for purposes of concealment,--he in a linen duster, and she in a gossamer. Let us now follow this couple a little farther and see what became of these disguising articles of apparel. Is Seth Brown here?" A man, who was so evidently a hackman that it seemed superfluous to ask him what his occupation was, shuffled forward at this. It was in his hack that this couple had left the D----. He remembered them very well as he had good reason to. First, because the man paid him before entering the carriage, saying that he was to let them out at the northwest corner of Madison Square, and secondly----But here the Coroner interrupted him to ask if he had seen the gentleman's face when he paid him. The answer was, as might have been expected, No. It was dark, and he had not turned his head. "Didn't you think it queer to be paid before you reached your destination?" "Yes, but the rest was queerer. After I had taken the money--I never refuses money, sir--and was expecting him to get into the hack, he steps up to me again and says in a lower tone than before: 'My wife is very nervous. Drive slow, if you please, and when you reach the place I have named, watch your horses carefully, for if they should move while she is getting out, the shock would throw her into a spasm.' As she had looked very pert and lively, I thought this mighty queer, and I tried to get a peep at his face, but he was too smart for me, and was in the carriage before I could clap my eye on him." "But you were more fortunate when they got out? You surely saw one or both of them then?" "No, sir, I didn't. I had to watch the horses' heads, you know. I shouldn't like to be the cause of a young lady having a spasm." "Do you know in what direction they went?"