"Have you ever seen a shot made by a bow and arrow before, Mr. Travis? Archery-practice, I mean. Or--well, the shooting of wild animals in India, Africa or elsewhere?" "Oh, yes. I come from a country where the bow and arrow are used. But I never shoot. I can only speak of what I have seen others do." "That is sufficient. You ought to be able to tell, then, from what direction this arrow came." "It--it must have come from this side of the gallery. Not from this section, as you call it, but from some one of the other open places along here." "Why not from this one?" "Because there was nobody here but me," was the simple and seemingly ingenuous answer. It gave them an unexpected surprise. Innocence would speak in this fashion. But then the bow--the bow which was lying not a dozen feet from where they stood! Nothing could eliminate that bow. After a short consultation between themselves, which the Englishman seemed not to notice, the Coroner addressed him with the soothing remark: "Mr. Travis, you must not misunderstand me. The accident which has occurred (we will not yet say crime) is of so serious a nature that it is imperative for us to get at the exact facts. Only yourself and one other person whom we know can supply them. I allude to the lady you saw, first in front of and then behind the girl who was shot. Her story has been told. Yours will doubtless coincide with it. May I ask you, then, to satisfy us on a point you were in a better position than herself to take note of. It is this: When the young girl gave that bound forward of which you both speak, did she make straight for the railing in front, or did she approach it in a diagonal direction?" "I do not know. You distress me very much. I was not thinking of anything like that. Why should I think of anything so immaterial. She came--I saw her smiling, beaming with joy, a picture of lovely youth--then her arms went suddenly up and she fell--backward--the arrow showing in her breast. If I told the story a hundred times, I could not tell it differently." "We do not wish you to, Mr. Travis. Only there must be somewhere in your mind a recollection of the angle which her body presented to the railing as she came forward." The unhappy man shook his head, at which token of helplessness Mr. Gryce beckoned to Sweetwater and whispered a few words in his ear. The man nodded and withdrew, going the length of the gallery, where he disappeared among the arches, to reappear shortly after in the gallery opposite. When he reached Section II, Mr. Gryce again addressed the witness, who, to his surprise and to that of the Coroner as well, had become reabsorbed in his own thoughts to the entire disregard of what this movement might portend. It took a sharp word to rouse him. "I am going to ask you to watch the young man who has just shown himself on the other side, and tell us to what extent his movements agree with those made by the young lady prior to her collapse and fall to the floor."