or knife strokes from the hand of Dr.
Clifford Heath."

The accused, who, during the entire scene, has stood as immovable as the
sphynx, and has not once been startled, disturbed, or surprised from his
calm by anything that has been brought forward by the numerous
witnesses, lifts his head proudly; lifts his hat, too, with a courtly
gesture, to the gentlemen of the jury, that may mean total exoneration
from blame, so far as they are concerned, or a haughty defiance, and
then, after one sweeping glance around the assembly, a glance which
turns for an instant upon the faces of the Lamottes, he beckons to the
constable; beckons with a gesture that is obeyed as if it were a
command.

"Corliss," he says, just as he would say--"give the patient a hot drink
and two powders." "Corliss, I suppose you won't want to lose sight of
me, since I have suddenly become public property. Come with me, if you
please; I am going home; then--I am at _your_ service."

And without more words, without let or hindrance, without so much as a
murmur of disapproval, he lifts himself out of the cellar, and walks, at
a moderate pace, and with firm aspect, toward his cottage, closely
followed by Corliss, who looks, for the first time, in his official
career, as if he would gladly be a simple private citizen, at that
moment.

The coroner's inquest is over; there remains now nothing save to remove
the body to a more suitable resting place, and to disperse.

Jasper Lamotte moves about, giving short orders in a low tone. He is
pallid and visibly nervous. If it were his own son who lay there in
their midst, stiff and cold, and saturated with his own blood, he could
scarcely appear more agitated, more shocked and sorrowful. He is really
shocked; really sorry; he actually regrets the loss of this man, who
must have been a constant crucifixion to his pride.

This is what they whisper among themselves, as they gather in knots and
furtively watch him, as he moves about the bier.

It has been a shock to Frank Lamotte, too, although he never had seemed
to crave the society of his brother-in-law, and always turned away from
any mention of his name, with a sneer.

Two men, who withdraw quickly from the crowd, are Lawyer O'Meara and Ray
Vandyck. As they come up out of the cellar and go out from the hateful
place, Ray breaks into bitter invective; but O'Meara lays a firm hand
upon his arm.

"Hold your impulsive tongue, you young scamp! Do you want to be
im