The Lady Sleuths MEGAPACK TM(333)

                “So that you necessarily passed very near the Van Burnam mansion?”

                “Yes.”

                “At what time was this, can you say?”

                “At four, or nearly four. It was half-past three when I left my office.”

                “Was it light at that hour? Could you distinguish objects readily?”

                “I had no difficulty in seeing.”



                             “And what did you see? Anything amiss at the Van Burnam mansion?”

                “No, sir, nothing amiss. I merely saw Howard Van Burnam coming down the stoop as I went by the corner.”

                “You made no mistake. It was the gentleman you name, and no other whom you saw on this stoop at this hour?”

                “I am very sure that it was he. I am sorry—”

                But the Coroner gave him no opportunity to finish.

                “You and Mr. Van Burnam are friends, you say, and it was light enough for you to recognize each other; then you probably spoke?”

                “No, we did not. I was thinking—well of other, things,” and here he allowed the ghost of a smile to flit suggestively across his firm-set lips. “And Mr. Van Burnam seemed preoccupied also, for, as far as I know, he did not even look my way.”

                “And you did not stop?”

                “No, he did not look like a man to be disturbed.”

                “And this was at four on the morning of the eighteenth?”

                “At four.”

                “You are certain of the hour and of the day?”

                “I am certain. I should not be standing here if I were not very sure of my memory. I am sorry,” he began again, but he was stopped as peremptorily as before by the Coroner.

                “Feeling has no place in an inquiry like this.” And the witness was dismissed.

                Mr. Stone, who had manifestly given his evidence under compulsion, looked relieved at its termination. As he passed back to the room from which he had come, many only noticed the extreme elegance of his form and the proud cast of his head, but I saw more than these. I saw the look of regret he cast at his friend Howard.

                A painful silence followed his withdrawal, then the Coroner spoke to the jury:

                “Gentlemen, I leave you to judge of the importance of this testimony. Mr. Stone is a well-known man of unquestionable integrity, but perhaps Mr. Van Burnam can explain how he came to visit his father’s house at four o’clock in the morning on that memorable night, when according to his latest testimony he left his wife there at twelve. We will give him the opportunity.”



                             “There is no use,” began the young man from the place where he sat. But gathering courage even while speaking, he came rapidly forward, and facing Coroner and jury once more, said with a false kind of energy that imposed upon no one:

                “I can explain this fact, but I doubt if you will accept my explanation. I was at my father’s house at that hour, but not in it. My restlessness drove me back to my wife, but not finding the keys in my pocket, I came down the stoop again and went away.”