"Why, yes, Mr. Drever," I replied. "I found it at the head of the Gaulton Cliff on Saturday." "Just so," said he smiling, "I had heard that. Now that stone may be wanted in evidence. Would you mind letting me have it?" "Here it is, sir," I said, handing it to him. And taking it with him, he left me to my thoughts. The morning of the inquiry came round, and at about ten o'clock Jimmy Macfarlane opened the door of my place of confinement and beckoned me to follow him. He conducted me through a long passage into a large room adjoining the prison house. It was a comfortable apartment, with a bright peat fire burning on the hearth, before which Colin Lothian's dog lay sound asleep. Close to the fire and athwart the room was a long table, where, as I entered, I saw Bailie Duke seated at his ease in a large armchair. At his right sat Bailie Thomson--a man with a forbidding face, whom I had often of late seen in the company of Carver Kinlay. At Mr. Duke's left hand was the schoolmaster, prim and businesslike as I had often seen him look in the school when anything of importance was pending, such as a class examination. Near him sat Lieutenant Fox, looking very handsome in his naval uniform, and very much at his ease. The only other person in the room was Dr. Linklater, who smiled a greeting to me as I stood at the door. "Take a seat there, Ericson, my lad," said Mr. Duke, indicating a chair opposite to him in the middle of the floor. And then he turned to the dominie, speaking with him in an undertone. These five men, who were all in different degrees known to me, presented no very formal aspect, and I felt no dread of what was to follow. As I sat there awaiting the opening of the proceedings I looked straight before me at the long table. Here, lying in front of the two bailies, were my fowling piece and a coil of rope. Before Mr. Drever lay Jarl Haffling's talisman; also, to my surprise, I observed the wooden box that I had seen in the cave, and the little chest that I had taken from the chart room of the Pilgrim; on the lid of the latter was the log book of that ill-fated ship. What these relics of the Pilgrim could possibly have to do with the murder of Colin Lothian I was at a loss to know. But their importance in the issue of the case will presently be seen. "Halcro Ericson!" said Bailie Duke. I rose to my feet and faced him. He tapped his snuffbox and took a large pinch, and leisurely passed the box to the dominie. Presently, after much use of his bandanna handkerchief, he continued: