"Oh yes," assented Mrs. Snow. "I tried it myself. I expect the assassin killed poor Mr. Alpenny, and after robbing the safe, went out with his plunder, and locked the door after him. He had the keys." "One moment," said Durban, rising in the body of the room. "My master carried the keys--all the keys, including that of the counting-house, on a single ring. The keys were in the safe, and----" "We'll hear you later," said the Coroner sharply.--"Go on, Mrs. Snow." "I have nothing further to say," said the vicar's wife, trying to convey a sympathetic look in her eyes, "save that I am sorry for Miss Hedge. And I may add," she continued, after a moment of hesitation, "that Colonel Hall was murdered at Convent Grange twenty-five years ago, in the same way." "I remember the case," said the Coroner, who was an old resident of the neighbourhood. "And what do you infer?" "That the assassin of Colonel Hall and the assassin of Mr. Alpenny are one and the same," said Mrs. Snow promptly. "Why should you connect the two?" asked the Coroner coldly, and very much puzzled. "Colonel Hall and Mr. Alpenny had much to do with one another," said Mrs. Snow, "and did some business together. That their two throats should be cut, is a coincidence." "Only that and nothing more, Mrs. Snow. I cannot see what the old crime has to do with the new one." "I am sure there is some connection," snapped the sour woman, and then stepped down from the witness-box with a triumphant glance in the direction of Beatrice. Why that glance, and one of such a nature, was sent, Beatrice could not guess. But then the conduct of Mrs. Snow was perplexing her more and more. Durban's evidence was to the effect that he had been absent when the crime took place. Mr. Alpenny had sent him to town with a letter, and he had returned the next morning to find the old man dead. Mrs. Snow had first informed him of the fact. He had burst open the door with a beam, as it was locked, and then had discovered that Mr. Alpenny's throat was slit from ear to ear. "And I saw," added the witness quickly, "that the keys of the deceased, including the key of the counting-house, were on the ring which dangled from the key used to open the safe." "Then you do not think that the assassin could have locked the door after him?" "Certainly not, seeing that the key was left behind." "Was there not another key?" "No. My master had the only key of the counting-house; it was one of a most peculiar make, and there was no duplicate. Mr. Alpenny was always careful to lock up his papers, and to keep the door of the counting-house locked." "Then there must be another way of getting into the counting-house." Inspector Jones rose to assure the Coroner that the place had been thoroughly examined. "There is no way of entering the railway carriage which is called the counting-house, save by the door." "But if the door was locked, and the key inside, the assassin must have got out by another way. What about the window?"