“Now, my dear boy,” he said, with the same frankness as before—“don’t you be foolish. Frankly—I believe you to be innocent; but these beggars don’t—and you’ll get yourself into a devil of a hole, and give yourself away most gloriously, if you try to conduct the case yourself. This chap from Scotland Yard is an ass—but he’s vindictive; the Coroner is in a hurry, and is dead against you. On the other hand—have the goodness to consider my position. This is my first chance—absolutely my first. I’ve read up the case, day by day, and I know it by heart; I may do you a lot of good—and I shall make my own fortune. To-morrow morning in all the newspapers—Andrew Banks—rising young barrister—badgered the Coroner—turned the witnesses inside out—played Old Harry with the police; don’t you see? Now—all you have to do is to sit quiet, and look virtuous; I’ll lay out Mr. Coroner, for the benefit of the yokels, in a brace of shakes.” He was gone again, back to his place at the table, before Philip Chater had even time to thank him, or to remonstrate further; and the real business of the inquest began. In the first place, appeared the two countrymen who had found the body; and who contradicted each other in minor points of detail, and were hopelessly confused by that rising young barrister Mr. Andrew Banks—so much so, that, at the end of five minutes, they were half disposed to believe that the one had committed the murder, and the other made an attempt to hide the body. And so sat down, greatly confused. Next came Betty Siggs—making a deeper impression than she would willingly have done against the man who stood watching her. For, after a question or two, old Betty turned suddenly to that quiet figure, and stretched out her hands, and appealed to him, in a voice shaken by sobs. “For God’s sake—let me speak; let me tell what I know,” she said; and, though she spoke in a whisper, the silence about her was so deep and solemn that the lightest breath of that whisper was heard. “For the sake of the old days—let me say what you and I alone know—let me—my dear—my dear!” Unfortunately, it had the very opposite effect to that which Betty intended; for there seemed to be at once established between these two some terrible affinity in the crime, which made it more horrible. Nor did the young barrister improve matters; for, wholly at a loss to understand to what she referred he began to urge her to tell all she knew—even to threaten her with dire penalties, in the event of non-compliance. But that only made matters worse; she cast one swift look in the direction of Philip, and read in his face that she must be silent; turned on the young and ardent man of law—and defied him.