During the two days that followed both of us had watched Winsloe carefully, and had seen his ill-concealed anxiety lest the dead man should be identified by Jack. Once or twice, as was but natural, at table or in the billiard-room, Scarcliff had referred to the strange affair and declared,-- "I'm sure I've seen the poor chap before, but where, I can't for the life of me recollect." The face was constantly puzzling him, and thus Winsloe remained anxious and agitated. In order to watch and learn what I could, I remained Jack's guest until after the inquest. The inquiry was duly held at the Spread Eagle at Midhurst, with the usual twelve respectable tradesmen as Jurymen, and created great excitement in the little town. Ellice went out shooting with Wydcombe on that day, while Jack, Eric and myself drove over to hear the evidence. There was very little to hear. The affair was still a complete mystery. According to the two doctors who had made the examination the stranger had been shot through the heart about eight hours prior to his discovery--murdered by an unknown hand, for although the police had made a strict search the weapon had not been discovered. The fact that not a scrap of anything remained to lead to the dead man's identity puzzled the police, more especially the absence of the tab from the back of the coat. The two detectives from London sat beside us and listened to the evidence with dissatisfaction. Booth made his statement, and then the inquiry was formally adjourned. There was nothing else. Both police and public were puzzled and the coroner remarked to the jury that he hoped when they next met some information would be forthcoming which might lead to the stranger's identity. We drove back in the dog-cart, and on the way Jack turned to me, saying,-- "I'd give worlds to know the real truth of that affair. I'm quite positive I've seen the face somewhere, but where, I can't fix." "That's a pity," Eric remarked. "One day, however, it'll come to you, and when it does we may hope to discover the guilty person." That night in the billiard-room Winsloe asked us what had taken place at the inquest, endeavouring to put his question unconcernedly. Eric and I could, however, see how anxious he was. "Nobody knows yet who he is," Jack answered, as he chalked his cue preparatory to making a shot. "The police have discovered nothing-- except that a woman was seen coming from the wood just about four o'clock." "A woman!" I cried, staring at him. "Who said so? It was not given in evidence." "No," he replied. "Booth told me just as we came out that somebody had said so, but that he did not give it in evidence, as he considered it wiser to say nothing." I held my breath. "Who was the woman?" asked Winsloe, apparently as surprised as myself. "He didn't tell me. In fact, I don't think she was recognised. If she had been, he would, of course, have interrogated her by this time."