ellier stood up, slim and tall
in her black frock, and with the veil thrown back from her pale face. She
held something in her hand, something which she waved aloft for all to
see.

"I ... I have something to say, Mr. Coroner," she said in a clear, high
voice. "Something to show you, also. See!" She pushed her way through the
crowd that opened to admit her, gaping at her as she came rapidly to the
coroner's table and held out the object. It was a small-sized revolver,
identical in every detail to that which lay upon the coroner's table.
"That," she said clearly, her voice rising higher and higher, as she
looked into Merriton's face for a single instant and smiled wanly, "that,
Mr. Coroner, is a revolver identical with the one which you have there.
It is the same make, the same bore--_everything_!"

"So it is!" For a moment the coroner lost his calm. He lifted an excited
face to meet her eyes, "Where did you get it, Miss Brellier?"

"From the top drawer of the secretaire in the little boudoir at Withersby
Hall," she said calmly, "where it has always lain. You will find a shot
missing. Everything the same, Mr. Coroner; _everything_ the same!"

"It belongs to some member of your household, Miss Brellier?"

She took a step backward and drew a sharp breath. Then her eyes were
fixed upon Merriton's face.

"It belongs to--_me_," she said.

CHAPTER XXI

QUESTIONS--AND ANSWERS

A murmur of amazement went round the room, like the sound of rising wind.
The coroner held up his hand for silence.

"You say it is yours, Miss Brellier? This--this is really most
remarkable--most remarkable! The revolver is of French make, is it not?
You bought it abroad?"

"I did. Just before I first came to England. I had been travelling
through Tunis before that, and--well, one doesn't like to be without
these things. Sir Nigel's revolver came from India, I believe--through
the agents of a French firm, the makers."

"But--" The coroner's voice was low-pitched, incredulous, "are you trying
to tell us you fired a shot that night, Miss Brellier?"

She shook her head, smiling.

"No--that would be impossible. But my revolver has always lain in that
little secretaire, and I have never had cause to use it since I have been
on this side of the Channel. I was in bed early that night, with a
headache. My uncle will tell you that. He took me to my room and spent
the rest of the evening in his study, as you have already heard from him.
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