"I was writing letters until pretty late that night," he said. "A little after eleven o'clock I went out to post them at the nearest pillar-box. As I went down the steps of my house, the deceased passed by. He was walking down Portsdown Road in the direction of Clifton Road. As he passed me, he was chuckling--laughing in a low tone. I thought he was--well, a bit intoxicated when I heard that, but as I was following him pretty closely, I soon saw that he walked straight enough. He kept perhaps six or eight yards in front of me until we had come to within twenty yards or so of the corner of Clifton Road. Then, all of a sudden--so suddenly that it's difficult for me to describe it!--he seemed to--well, there's no other word for it than--collapse. He seemed to give, you understand--shrank up, like--like a concertina being suddenly shut up! His knees gave--his whole body seemed to shrink--and he fell in a heap on the pavement!" "Did he cry out--scream, as if in sudden pain--anything of that sort?" asked the Coroner. "There was a sort of gurgling sound--I'm not sure that he didn't say a word or two, as he collapsed," answered the witness. "But it was so sudden that I couldn't catch anything definite. He certainly never made the slightest sound, except a queer sort of moaning, very low, from the time he fell. Of course, I thought the man had fallen in a fit. I rushed to him; he was lying, sort of crumpled up, where he had fallen. There was a street-lamp close by--I saw that his face had turned a queer colour, and his eyes were already closed--tightly. I noticed, too, that his teeth were clenched, and his fingers twisted into the palms of his hands." "Was he writhing at all--making any movement?" enquired the Coroner. "Not a movement! He was as still as the stones he was lying on!" said the witness. "I'm dead certain he never moved after he fell. There was nobody about, just then, and I was just going to ring the bell of the nearest house when a policeman came round the corner. I shouted to him--he came up. We examined the man for a minute; then I ran to fetch Dr. Mirandolet, whose surgery is close by there. I found him in; he came at once, and immediately ordered the man's removal to the hospital. The policeman got help, and the man was taken off. Dr. Mirandolet went with him. I returned home." No questions of any importance were asked of Mr. Gardiner, and the Coroner, after a short interchange of whispers with his officer, glanced at a group of professional-looking men behind the witness-box. "Call Dr. Mirandolet!" he directed. Purdie at that moment caught Ayscough's eye. And the detective winked at him significantly as a strange and curious figure came out from the crowd and stepped into the witness-box. CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE WHAT MANNER OF DEATH?