owledge; I don't know of any such." But here,
stealing a side glance at Eleanore, she evidently saw something that
reassured her, for she hastened to add:

"I believe I may go further than that, and meet your question with a
positive no. My uncle was in the habit of confiding in me, and I should
have known if anything of importance to him had occurred."

Questioned in regard to Hannah, she gave that person the best of
characters; knew of nothing which could have led either to her strange
disappearance, or to her connection with crime. Could not say whether
she kept any company, or had any visitors; only knew that no one with
any such pretensions came to the house. Finally, when asked when she
had last seen the pistol which Mr. Leavenworth always kept in his stand
drawer, she returned, not since the day he bought it; Eleanore, and not
herself, having the charge of her uncle's apartments.

It was the only thing she had said which, even to a mind freighted like
mine, would seem to point to any private doubt or secret suspicion; and
this, uttered in the careless manner in which it was, would have passed
without comment if Eleanore herself had not directed at that moment a
very much aroused and inquiring look upon the speaker.

But it was time for the inquisitive juror to make himself heard again.
Edging to the brink of the chair, he drew in his breath, with a vague
awe of Mary's beauty, almost ludicrous to see, and asked if she had
properly considered what she had just said.

"I hope, sir, I consider all I am called upon to say at such a time as
this," was her earnest reply.

The little juror drew back, and I looked to see her examination
terminate, when suddenly his ponderous colleague of the watch-chain,
catching the young lady's eye, inquired:

"Miss Leavenworth, did your uncle ever make a will?"

Instantly every man in the room was in arms, and even she could not
prevent the slow blush of injured pride from springing to her cheek. But
her answer was given firmly, and without any show of resentment.

"Yes, sir," she returned simply.

"More than one?"

"I never heard of but one."

"Are you acquainted with the contents of that will?"

"I am. He made no secret of his intentions to any one."

The juryman lifted his eye-glass and looked at her. Her grace was little
to him, or her beauty or her elegance. "Perhaps, then, you can tell me
who is the one most likely to be benefited by his death?"

The brutality o