Frederick did indeed look more like a criminal than anything else. His dark hair, which he wore rather long for the general fashion, was dull and damp with the sweat which agony had forced from him. His features were pinched and his eyes sunk, whilst his clear olive complexion had assumed a yellow, waxen hue. The whole man seemed to have collapsed under the force of his grief. He did not raise his eyes to the faces of his inquisitors, but sat leaning back in his chair, with his gaze fixed on the ground, and his hands clasped together between his knees. ‘Rouse yourself, if you please, sir,’ commenced the coroner, ‘and let us have as succinct an account as you can of all you know concerning this distressing affair. Do you recognise the deceased, Jane Emily Walcheren, as your late wife?’ ‘Yes!’ answered Frederick in a low voice. ‘Speak up, if you please! The jury cannot hear your replies. When did you see the deceased lady last?’ ‘On Saturday morning.’ ‘Well, well, what more?’ cried Mr Procter, impatiently; ‘tell us all about it. Where did you see her, and when did you part with her, and what did you do in the interim? We want the whole story, and can’t go dragging it from you piecemeal.’ ‘Say all you know, Frederick,’ whispered Philip, ‘it will be so much the sooner over and done with.’ The unhappy young man made a visible effort, and said,-- ‘I saw her last alive on Saturday morning at the Castle Warden Hotel at about half-past eleven or twelve o’clock. We had just finished breakfast, and I left her to have a swim. I never saw her again until I came--here.’ ‘How long were you away from the hotel?’ ‘I did not return till nearly three. That hour was fixed for our luncheon.’ ‘Three hours is a long time to be taking a swim. What were you doing for the rest of the time?’ ‘I was occupied in the water, all, or nearly, all the time,’ replied Frederick. But Mr Procter, who had never indulged in a bath but once in his life, and that was the day before his wedding, when he caught such a cold that he had never ventured into the water since, was not to be taken in by so transparent an untruth. ‘In the water for three hours, sir! Do you expect the jury to believe that?’ ‘I was in the sea for the best part of the time, swimming and doing feats of skill. Some part of it must be allowed for dressing and undressing myself. But the day was fine, and I did not care to come out sooner than was necessary.’ ‘I believe I am right, Mr Walcheren, in saying that you were only married to the deceased on the Friday previous?’ ‘That is the case.’ ‘Is it usual for a bridegroom to leave his bride alone for three hours the day after their wedding in order that he may have a swim?’ ‘I don’t know,’ said Frederick, wearily; ‘but I did.’ ‘Well, when you came back at three o’clock you found your wife was gone?’ ‘I did.’ ‘Was it not rather strange, considering that you had gone to the beach, that she did not go to the beach also, in order to find you?’