Constable Roberts was the first witness to be called. He told, briefly, of his encounter with the young "military gent," who had fetched him in a car at 10 o'clock on March 11th, and dragged him forth upon what proved eventually to be nothing more than a wild-goose chase. The lady whom the young gent had said was lying dead was alive, "and very much alive, sir!" added the constable with some conviction, "and 'e was as took in as wot I was meself." Cleek nodded at this, and the little one-sided smile slid slowly up his face at this unconscious admission. The coroner also nodded. "Indeed," he said, in proper judicial manner, "and did you meet no one then upon the return journey, Mr. Roberts?" "Er--er----" Roberts began, staring confusedly round the room, and turning red, "that is, no one as is any bearings upon the case, so to speak--not suspicious at all wasn't, sir, and--and----" But the Coroner's voice broke in upon his flounderings with sharp incisiveness. "That isn't altogether your affair, Mr. Roberts," he said, concisely, "the meting out of justice lies in other hands, and whether he was a suspicious character or not remains, of course, to be seen. The point is, who was it?" A sort of grayness dropped down like a veil over the policeman's ruddy countenance, he drew in his breath with a little gasp, and passed a hand over his perspiring forehead. "The gentleman wot I saw was Sir Edgar Brenton," he said, suddenly, in a strangled voice, "but what 'e 'as to do with it, beats me. For 'e was coming back from the station----" "How do you know that?" "Because 'e said so," responded the constable, decisively. The simplicity of the statement, and the utter belief in the man's voice, brought a sudden look of sympathy flashing across Cleek's countenance. It was the finest tribute to the character of the young man that he could receive. The Coroner's voice broke in upon Cleek's thoughts. "You may stand down," he said. And the Constable stood down with a look of relief upon his countenance. The second witness was Dr. Verrall, pale-faced and calm, but with an odd look in his eyes that caused Cleek to watch him closely. Right through his evidence he gave the impression of saying only just as much as was absolutely necessary, and of keeping something back. But upon one point he was clear. "Your first belief, then," the Coroner said, quietly, "was that the deceased was shot by the revolver at his side?" "Yes." "And afterward?" "Afterward, unmistakable traces were pointed out by Inspector Headland who was on the scene when I arrived, and I came to the conclusion that he had undoubtedly been poisoned by prussic acid compressed into a tabloid by the use of magnesia." A quiver of interest swept over the assembled audience. Poisoned! Then perhaps Sir Edgar---- "Was it possible for the man to have taken it himself; committed suicide, in fact?" put in the Coroner, breaking in upon the thought that was in every heart.