"I suppose I did," said the man sullenly, "but I was beside myself with terror. I rode to Starby, and gave the horse back to the livery-stable keeper. Then I went to London and saw my sister. She agreed with me that it was best to keep quiet, so I did not come forward to give evidence. Had it not been for that detective who watched my sister, I should not be here now." This evidence practically ended the inquest. Merrick was called to prove that the wound in the hand was such a one as might have been made by the downward stroke of the hand on a sharp point. This evidence was substantiated by the local practitioner, who had examined the body with Dr. Merrick. There was no doubt that the affair had happened as Strent said. Felix Briarfield had slapped his open hand on the table to emphasize his refusal to marry Rose Gernon. Unfortunately, it came in contact with the poisoned arrowhead. The flint had an edge like a razor, and, being steeped in virulent poison, acted like a snakebite on the unfortunate young man. Felix had not been murdered, but died by misadventure. This was the verdict brought in by the jury, and so the whole of this strange affair came to an end. Thanks to the astuteness of the inspector, and the delicacy of the coroner, the jury were quite unaware of what had happened between the death of Felix and the inquest. The reporters of the Marshminster Gazette merely put in a short statement of the affair, and in a few days people ceased to take any interest in the Fen Inn crime. It was a lucky escape for Francis, but I don't think the lesson was thrown away on him. Rose Gernon and her brother went back to town the same evening. I never saw Strent again, but frequently had the pleasure of seeing his sister performing on the stage. She is now engaged to be married, but with the knowledge of her actions at the Fen Inn I cannot say I envy the bridegroom. After the burial of Felix I went abroad with Francis, whose health was quite broken down by the strain put on it during the last few weeks. He returned in six months, and married Olivia. She was told all that had taken place in the Lone Inn, but kept the information to herself. Mrs. Bellin never knew that Felix had substituted himself for Francis. I was best man at the wedding by particular request, and saw the happy pair start for their honeymoon. I hope they will be happy, and am sure they deserve to be, seeing through what tribulations they have passed. "What has become of the Fen Inn?" asked Dr. Merrick, one day, when we were talking over the case. "Oh, the Fen Inn is pulled down, I believe," was my reply. "There will be no more tragedies there." "A fit end for such a shambles," said Merrick; and I think he was about right. THE END. End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Lone Inn, by Fergus Hume