Another pause, during which Victor’s face was seen to express great emotion. “That was so.” “You are sure that Mr. Henderson was attached to the deceased?” “I am sure of it.” “Did you know that Mr. Henderson was aware of the deceased’s return to Naples?” “I was aware that he was in correspondence with her,” said Victor; “but he said nothing to me of his intention to visit her in Naples.” “Had you known this, would you have endeavoured to dissuade him from such a course?” “I do not know what I should have done; but I should think it very probable that I should have endeavoured to prevent their meeting.” “When did you become aware of the deceased’s return to England?” “When Mr. Henderson informed me of it on my arrival at his house at Detwich Hall.” “You were naturally very much surprised to hear that he had met her, I suppose?” “Very much,” Victor replied. “Did you say anything to him upon the subject?” “I warned him against the folly of being drawn into another entanglement with her, particularly when he was to be married in ten days’ time.” “You say _another_ entanglement with her? Are we, therefore, to understand that there had been an entanglement before?” Again Victor paused before he replied. “I withdraw the word ‘another,’” he said, hurriedly. “I did not mean it in that sense. I merely suggested to Mr. Henderson that his _fiancée_ might not care to know that he had been seen driving through the streets of London after midnight with an Italian girl, who had once been his model.” “Good Heavens!” said Godfrey to himself. “And this is the man whom I have trusted and who has called himself my friend for so many years!” At this point the coroner, addressing the jury, stated his intention of adjourning the inquiry until the following Wednesday morning at eleven o’clock. He had excellent reasons for keeping it open until then, he said, and these reasons he had communicated to the foreman of the jury, who was completely satisfied. The Court thereupon adjourned, and Godfrey presently found himself in the street with Mr. Codey on one side and Sir Vivian Devereux on the other. Victor Fensden was waiting for them on the pavement, and, as soon as they emerged, he approached them with a face that still bore the traces of violent emotion. “Godfrey,” he began, in a faltering voice, “after what they dragged out of me, I scarcely know what to say to you.” “In any case, I beg that you will not say it,” said Godfrey, coldly. “You have said quite enough already.” Then, turning to the others, he continued: “Come, gentlemen, let us find a cab. I suppose we had better go back to your office, Mr. Codey?” “I think it would be better,” said that gentleman. “I must have a talk with you upon this matter.”