s her eyes fell,
a smile, inexplicable and mysterious, flashed for an instant across
her face and was gone.

"John Wilson," announced the coroner, after a slight pause.

A middle-aged man, rather dull in appearance, except for a pair of
keenly observant eyes, stepped forward with slow precision.

"You are Mr. Ralph Mainwaring's valet, I believe?" said the coroner.

"That I am, sir," was the reply.

"Have you been for some time in his employ?"

The man peered sharply at Dr. Westlake from under his heavy brows,
and replied, with great deliberation, "Nigh onto thirty years, sir."

Then, noting the surprise in his interlocutor's face, he added, with
dignity, "The Wilsons, sir, have served the Mainwarings for three
generations. My father, sir, was valet to the father of the dead
Hugh Mainwaring, the Honorable Ralph Maxwell Mainwaring, sir."

A smile played over the features of young Mainwaring at these words,
but Scott started involuntarily, and, after studying Wilson's face
intently for a moment, hastily pencilled a few words on a slip of
paper which he handed to Mr. Sutherland, and both watched the
witness with special interest.

His testimony differed little from that given by Hardy and by the
butler. He stated, however, that, after accompanying Mr. Ralph
Mainwaring to the scene of the murder, the latter sent him to summon
Mr. Scott; but on his way to the young gentleman's room he saw Mr.
Whitney in advance of him, who called the secretary and immediately
returned with him to the library.

"Was Mr. Scott already up when Mr. Whitney called him?" the coroner
inquired, quickly.

"He was up and dressed, sir," was the reply.

Wilson also corroborated the butler's statement that Walter LaGrange
was not seen about the premises until luncheon, and stated, in
addition, that the horse belonging to young LaGrange was missing
from the stables until nearly noon. Having mingled very little with
the servants at Fair Oaks, he had but slight knowledge concerning the
occurrences of the day preceding the murder. His testimony was
therefore very brief.

"Katie O'Brien, chambermaid," was next called; and in response a
young Irish woman quietly took her place before the coroner. She
answered the questions addressed her as briefly as possible, but
with deliberation, as though each word had been carefully weighed.

"Did you have charge of the private rooms of Mr. Mainwaring?"

"Yes, sir."

"You took care of his rooms as