That smile was almost immediately done away, however, when they could look further, for across the breast of the dead man lay a paper, on which was written, in a large bold hand "The punishment of him who shot Edward Lord Harold." The first who read the paper was the magistrate's clerk, and the words were circulated in a low murmur from one to another around. But at the same time Master Nicolas, the clerk to the receiver of the county, pressed forward, as if moved by some sudden impulse, and getting as near the head of the corpse as he could, he gazed eagerly in its face, exclaiming, "It is! yes, I declare it is! It is the very same man whom I saw lying on the road that night when the robbers laid hold of Mistress Alice Herbert, and he was one of them, too, beyond all doubt." "Doubtless it must be the same," said Franklin Gray, gravely. "I think I never saw a more rascally countenance in my life, or one that seemed more likely to deserve the fate that he has met with." "His clothes are very good, however," said Sir Matthew Scrope; "they don't look like those of a robber. Why, I declare there is as much lace as would cost two or three marks any day." "It's the same man, however," reiterated Master Nicolas; "that I will swear to; and that he was a robber, there can be little doubt, from what happened to Mistress Alice Herbert. Is it not so, Sir Walter?" "Undoubtedly," replied Sir Walter. "There is no doubt--there can be no doubt that robbery was their purpose. Nor is it improbable that this is one of them. One man was wounded and disarmed by my excellent friend, Captain Langford. The other was beaten down and stunned by the poor innocent John Graves, and he it was, Master Nicolas, whom you saw upon the road. Let all these matters be taken down," he continued, looking round him for some one who was capable of the task. "Where is the coroner?" Sir Walter demanded, abruptly, when he could not discover that officer amidst those around. "He should have been here. Why was he not summoned? When a body supposed to be murdered is discovered buried in a lonely common like this, it is natural to ask, where is the coroner? and to deprecate excessively his not being on the spot. May I ask, Sir Matthew, whether, in all the informal and somewhat extraordinary steps which you have thought fit to take, you have remembered the simple one of calling to your aid the coroner of the county?" "Why, sir," replied Sir Matthew Scrope, in some confusion, "we were so hurried to decide, we were so pressed onward for time, that I do not know how it was, the coroner was forgotten."