said anything, even to the police,
that my house would be besieged by reporters and newspaper men. . . .
I have a delicate wife, Mr. Coroner. Such a state of things--the
state of things I imagine--might cause her death--indeed, I hope
she will never read a report of these proceedings. Fortunately, she
has an excellent trained nurse--"

"You will now take the oath," said the coroner sharply. He already
regretted having allowed this absurd person to have his say.

Mr. Cannot took the oath with a gravity and decorum which had been
lacking in most of those who had preceded him.

"I will address myself to the jury," he began.

"You will do nothing of the sort," broke in the coroner. "Now,
please attend to me. You assert in your letter that you know who
is the--the--"

"The Avenger," put in Mr. Cannot promptly.

"The perpetrator of these crimes. You further declare that you met
him on the very night he committed the murder we are now
investigating?"

"I do so declare," said Mr. Cannot confidently. "Though in the best
of health myself,"--he beamed round the court, a now amused,
attentive court--"it is my fate to be surrounded by sick people, to
have only ailing friends. I have to trouble you with my private
affairs, Mr. Coroner, in order to explain why I happened to be out
at so undue an hour as one o'clock in the morning--"

Again a titter ran through the court. Even the jury broke into
broad smiles.

"Yes," went on the witness solemnly, "I was with a sick friend--in
fact, I may say a dying friend, for since then he has passed away.
I will not reveal my exact dwelling-place; you, sir, have it on my
notepaper. It is not necessary to reveal it, but you will understand
me when I say that in order to come home I had to pass through a
portion of the Regent's Park; and it was there--to be exact, about
the middle of Prince's Terrace--when a very peculiar-looking
individual stopped and accosted me."

Mrs. Bunting's hand shot up to her breast. A feeling of deadly fear
took possession of her.

"I mustn't faint," she said to herself hurriedly. "I mustn't faint!
Whatever's the matter with me?" She took out her bottle of
smelling-salts, and gave it a good, long sniff.

"He was a grim, gaunt man, was this stranger, Mr. Coroner, with a
very odd-looking face. I should say an educated man--in common
parlance, a gentleman. What drew my special attention to him was
that he was talking aloud to himself--in fact, he seemed to be