"I do mean to say so, Mr. Brancker, and what I say is the truth, if these are the last words I ever speak." "Why, I knocked half-a-dozen times if I knocked once. I was upwards of ten minutes at your door." Strong could only shake his head. "I can say no more than I've said already," was his answer. "I was never out of the house, and if anybody had knocked I must have heard 'em." "You may sit down for the present," said the Coroner. "It is incredible, incredible!" muttered John, as he too resumed his seat. His mind was in a whirl. Was it possible, he asked himself, that he had only dreamed that he called at Strong's cottage, and that he had never been there in reality? But no, that was an impossibility. As well fancy that he had not seen the man and woman quarreling; but there was the bruise on his forehead to prove the reality of that. He looked round the room, and to his excited fancy it seemed that people were already beginning to gaze askance at him. What were the jury whispering about so earnestly? Surely--surely, they could not for one moment suspect----! No, that would be at once too horrible and too absurd. To the best of his belief, Strong had sworn to nothing but the truth when he stated that he had never left home during the previous evening, and that it was impossible that Mr. Brancker could have knocked at his door without his being aware of it. It was what Strong believed to be the truth, and yet it was not the whole truth. It was an undoubted fact that he never left the house, but as regards one important feature of the case he had said nothing. He forgot to relate how a certain boon companion of his had called in the course of the evening, bringing with him a bottle of fiery whiskey, and how his friend did not go away till the bottle was empty, leaving Strong, who had eaten little food for several days, in a semi-maudlin state of intoxication. Mrs. Strong was out at the time, and Strong, left alone before a good fire, and rendered drowsy by the fumes of the liquor, was fast asleep in less than five minutes after his friend had left him. He slept for upwards of an hour, only waking up on his wife's return, but of this sleep his memory retained no recollection whatever next morning. He knew that he had taken a little more to drink than was good for him; but, had he been questioned on the point, he would certainly have denied that he had even as much as closed his eyes till after his wife's return. Ephraim Judd was recalled by the Coroner. He looked very pale and nervous; but the circumstances of the morning were enough to unnerve any man. He wore a black kid glove on his left hand; in his right hand he carried the other glove loose. "How long did you stay at the office after Mr. Brancker left you there last evening?" "Certainly not more than twenty minutes." "You were the last of the officials to leave the Bank?" "The last, except Mr. Hazeldine."