I came next, and narrated how I had stayed at the Fen Inn on that night, and had met there Francis Briarfield, who was waiting there for his brother. Then I told of the discovery of the corpse, and the finding of the arrowhead in the fireplace. I said nothing about my tracking the trail to the pool, and if possible we wished that portion of the evidence to be passed over in silence. Fortunately the jury were a dull-headed lot, and submitted quietly to the guidance of the coroner. He only asked questions pertinent to the death without going too deeply into the subject. At this point I produced the arrowhead. Francis explained that he had arrived from Chili on the 6th of June and had gone at once to the Fen Inn at the request of his brother Felix. His brother had not arrived on that night, and he had gone to bed. He was unable to say how his brother had come by his tragic end. Then came the critical point which we wished passed over in silence. "Did you see your brother at the Fen Inn, Mr. Briarfield?" asked the coroner. "I did not see my brother alive," was the evasive answer. "Perhaps the body had been put in the pool by the murderer," said one of the jurymen, "in which case Mr. Briarfield would not see him." "I did not go to the pool on that night," replied Francis, adroitly evading the remark; "it was later on that I learned my brother's body was there, and at once gave instructions that the pool was to be dragged." At this point Mr. Briarfield was asked to stand down, and the inspector's evidence was taken. He deposed to the fact that Mr. Briarfield had instructed him to drag the pool for the body, and that it was found there. This piece of evidence quite put the jury off the scent, as if Francis had placed the body in the pool, he would not have told the inspector where to find it. The critical point was thus glided gently over, and the coroner called Rose Gernon. Once the jury knew how the crime had been committed, they would forget all about the hiding of the body in the pool, so that the folly of Francis would not be made public. I must say that Rose Gernon gave her evidence very clearly. She said she was an intimate friend of Felix Briarfield's, a statement which rather shocked the moral tradesmen of Marshminster. Felix asked her to go down to the inn, as he had prepared it for his brother, and wished to see him there about a family matter. "But the inn was a ruin," interrupted a juryman. Miss Gernon said that was very true. Still it was habitable, and Mr. Felix Briarfield had sent on fuel and provisions. As the former proprietor had left all the furniture, the rooms were fairly comfortable. She could not say why Felix did all this, unless it was that he wanted to see his brother privately.