The jury went into another room, and there was a little buzz of conversation. The coroner did not join in it. He was absorbed in his notes. Anthony Crosby, who was seated next to the Chief Constable, said to the latter: “I should like to call at the police station for a short conversation. There’s something I want to see.” “You shall,” said the Chief Constable. “I’ll motor you back in my car. Norton and Colson are coming in the other. We shall probably have some interesting information to give you by that time,” he went on grimly. “There are going to be developments.” “Really?” Major Renshaw nodded. “You’ll see,” he said. “I hope the jury won’t be long—though it really doesn’t matter what verdict they bring in. I say—you won’t mind waiting a few minutes before we start back?” “Oh, dear, no.” But the jury still remained out of the room. Presently a note was handed in and given to the coroner, who opened it, read it and then said: “The jury wish to know whether the police are satisfied with the evidence of Mr. Moss.” He glanced at Moss as he spoke. The Jew’s face paled. The superintendent whispered a word or two to him, and the Chief Constable said to the coroner: “You may tell the jury, sir, that we are perfectly satisfied. We have nothing to bring against Mr. Moss.” Moss gave a sigh of relief, and the coroner scribbled a note to the jury. In about ten minutes’ time that body filed in, one or two of them looking very heated. The coroner addressed the foreman. “Are you all agreed on your verdict?” “We are, sir.” “And it is?” “Wilful murder against some person or persons unknown.” “Very well. I agree with your finding. The inquiry is closed.” After a few brief formalities the assembly broke up. Major Renshaw, the superintendent and Colson detached themselves from the rest and went outside the inn. Presently Proctor came out and was walking across to his house opposite, when the Chief Constable spoke to him. “We have a matter of business with you that is best discussed in private, Mr. Proctor. May we come over to your house?” He looked at the three men steadily, smiled slightly and said: “By all means, Major. Come along.” As they walked across he said to them, in quite a matter-of-fact way: “I had quite a little trouble with that jury. Two or three of them were bent on returning a verdict against the unfortunate Moss. Of course, he didn’t do it, but it wasn’t till we had the note from the coroner that they fell in with the rest.” “No—he didn’t do it,” said the Major dryly. The little man was opening his front door. He gave the Chief Constable a quick glance, pursed up his mouth and smiled. He led the way into the dining-room. The three policemen were silent. Then Major Renshaw addressed him, his face very grave. “Mr. Proctor, I fear I have a most unpleasant du——”