"No, it did not," answered Lauriston. "I know nothing about rings." Mr. Parminter quietly passed the tray of rings to the Coroner, with Lauriston's rings lying on a sheet of paper. "Perhaps you will examine these things and direct the attention of the jurymen to them?" he said, and turned to the witness-box again. "I want to ask you a very particular question," he continued. "You had better consider it well before answering it--it is more important--to you--than may appear at first hearing. Can you bring any satisfactory proof that those two rings which you claim to be yours, really are yours?" There followed on that a dead silence in court. People had been coming in since the proceedings had opened, and the place was now packed to the door. Every eye was turned on Lauriston as he stood in the witness-box, evidently thinking deeply. And in two pairs of eyes there was deep anxiety: Melky was nervous and fidgety; Zillah was palpably greatly concerned. But Lauriston looked at neither--and he finally turned to Mr. Parminter with a candid glance. "The rings are mine," he answered. "But--I don't know how I can prove that they are!" A suppressed murmur ran round the court--in the middle of it, the Coroner handed the rings to a police official and motioned him to show them to the jurymen. And Mr. Parminter's suave voice was heard again. "You can't prove that they are yours." "May I explain?" asked Lauriston. "Very well--there may be people, old friends, who have seen those two rings in my mother's possession. But I don't know where to find such people. If it's necessary, I can try." "I should certainly try, if I were you," observed Mr. Parminter, drily. "Now, when did those two rings come into your possession?" "When my mother died," replied Lauriston. "Where have you kept them?" "Locked up in my trunk." "Have you ever, at any time, or any occasion, shown them to any person? Think!" "No," answered Lauriston. "I can't say that I ever have." "Not even at the time of your mother's death?" "No! I took possession, of course, of all her effects. I don't remember showing the rings to anybody." "You kept them in your trunk until you took them out to raise money on them?" "Yes--that's so," admitted Lauriston. "How much money had you--in the world--when you went to the pawnshop yesterday afternoon?" demanded Mr. Parminter, with a sudden keen glance. Lauriston flushed scarlet. "If you insist on knowing," he said. "I'd just nothing." There was another murmur in court--of pity from the sentimental ladies in the public seats, who, being well acquainted with the pawnshops themselves, and with the necessities which drove them there were experiencing much fellow-feeling for the poor young man in the witness-box. But Lauriston suddenly smiled--triumphantly. "All the same," he added, glancing at Mr. Parminter. "I'd forty pounds, in my letters, less than an hour afterwards. Ayscough knows that!"