horror of the dead was feigned, and that she was not telling the truth. I, who knew her countenance so well, saw even through her veil how agitated she was, and with what desperate resolve she was concealing the awful anxiety consuming her. "One witness has told us that the deceased was very much afraid of burglars," observed the coroner. "Had he ever spoken to you on the subject?" "Often. At his country house some years ago a burglary was committed, and one of the burglars fired at him but missed. I think that unnerved him, for he always kept a loaded revolver in the drawer of a table beside his bed. In addition to this he had electrical contrivances attached to the windows, so as to ring an alarm." "But it appears they did not ring," said the coroner, quickly. "They were out of order, the servants tell me. The bells had been silent for a fortnight or so." "It seems probable, then, that the murderer knew of that," remarked Dr. Diplock, again writing with his scratchy quill. Turning to the solicitor, he asked, "Have you any questions to put to the witness?" "None," was the response. And then the woman whom I had loved so fervently and well, turned and re-seated herself. She glanced across at me. Did she read my thoughts? Her glance was a glance of triumph. Medical evidence was next taken, Sir Bernard Eyton being the first witness. He gave his opinion in his habitual sharp, snappy voice, terse and to the point. In technical language he explained the disease from which his patient had been suffering, and then proceeded to describe the result of the post-mortem, how the wound inside was eight times larger than the exterior incision. "That seems very remarkable!" exclaimed the coroner, himself a surgeon of no mean repute, laying down his pen and regarding the physician with interest suddenly aroused. "Have you ever seen a similar wound in your experience, Sir Bernard?" "Never!" was the reply. "My friends, Doctor Boyd and Doctor Farmer, were with me, and we are agreed that it is utterly impossible that the cardiac injuries I have described could have been caused by the external wound." "Then how were they caused?" asked the coroner. "I cannot tell." There was no cross-examination. I followed, merely corroborating what my chief had said. Then, after the police surgeon had given his evidence, Dr. Diplock turned to the twelve Kew tradesmen who had been "summoned and sworn" as jurymen, and addressing them said: "I think, gentlemen, you have heard sufficient to show you that this is a more than usually serious case. There are certain elements both extraordinary and mysterious, and that being so I would suggest an adjournment, in order that the police should be enabled to make further enquiries into the matter. The deceased was a gentleman whose philanthropy was