the
room once while they were there; that she saw them both then, but did
not catch a glimpse of their faces; Mr. Pope was standing in the window
almost entirely shielded by the curtains, and Mrs. Pope was busy hanging
up something in the wardrobe. The gentleman had on his duster and the
lady her gossamer; it was but a few minutes after their arrival.

Questioned in regard to the state of the room after they left it, she
said that there was a lot of brown paper lying about, marked B. Altman,
but nothing else that did not belong there.

"Not a tag, nor a hat-pin, nor a bit of memorandum, lying on bureau or
table?"

"Nothing, sir, so far as I mind. I wasn't on the look-out for anything,
sir. They were a queer couple, but we have lots of queer couples at our
house, and the most I notices, sir, is those what remember the
chambermaid and those what don't. This couple was of the kind what
don't."

"Did you sweep the room after their departure?"

"I always does. They went late, so I swept the room the next morning."

"And threw the sweepings away, of course?"

"Of course; would you have me keep them for treasures?"

"It might have been well if you had," muttered the Coroner. "The
combings from the lady's hair might have been very useful in
establishing her identity."

The porter who has charge of the lady's entrance was the last witness
from this house. He had been on duty on the evening in question and had
noticed this couple leaving. They both carried packages, and had
attracted his attention first, by the long, old-fashioned duster which
the gentleman wore, and secondly, by the pains they both took not to be
observed by any one. The woman was veiled, as had already been said, and
the man held his package in such a way as to shield his face entirely
from observation.

"So that you would not know him if you saw him again?" asked the
Coroner.

"Exactly, sir," was the uncomprising answer.

As he sat down, the Coroner observed: "You will note from this
testimony, gentlemen, that this couple, signing themselves Mr. and Mrs.
James Pope of Philadelphia, left this house dressed each in a long
garment eminently fitted for purposes of concealment,--he in a linen
duster, and she in a gossamer. Let us now follow this couple a little
farther and see what became of these disguising articles of apparel. Is
Seth Brown here?"

A man, who was so evidently a hackman that it seemed superfluous to ask
him what his occupation wa