and faintly, of any participation
whatever in the foul deed. This vague fear tortured her; it had taken
possession of her mind; and it was the more acutely painful, because it
was of a kind which precluded the possibility of her dispelling it, as
morbid fears so often are dispelled, by taking counsel upon its
suggestions with a friend.

The day wore on, and strange faces began to fill the great parlor. The
coroner, accompanied by a physician, had arrived. Several of the gentry
in the immediate vicinity had been summoned as jurors, and now began to
arrive in succession. Marston, in a handsome and sober suit, received
these visitors with a stately and melancholy courtesy, befitting the
occasion. Mervyn and his son had both been summoned, and, of course, were
in attendance. There being now a sufficient number to form a jury, they
were sworn, and immediately proceeded to the chamber where the body of
the murdered man was lying.

Marston accompanied them, and with a pale and stern countenance, and in a
clear and subdued tone, called their attention successively to every
particular detail which he conceived important to be noted. Having thus
employed some minutes, the jury again returned to the parlor, and the
examination of the witnesses commenced.

Marston, at his own request, was first sworn and examined. He deposed
merely to the circumstance of his parting, on the night previous, with
Sir Wynston, and to the state in which he had seen the room and the body
in the morning. He mentioned also the fact, that on hearing the alarm in
the morning, he had hastened from his own chamber to Sir Wynston's, and
found, on trying to enter, that the door opening upon the passage was
secured on the inside. This circumstance showed that the murderer must
have made his egress at least through the valet's chamber, and by the
back-stairs. Marston's evidence went no further.

The next witness sworn was Edward Smith, the servant of the late Sir
Wynston Berkley. His evidence was a narrative of the occurrences we have
already stated. He described the sounds which he had overheard from his
master's room, the subsequent appearance of Merton, and the conversation
which had passed between them. He then proceeded to mention, that it was
his master's custom to have himself called at seven o'clock, at which
hour he usually took some medicine, which it was the valet's duty to
bring to him; after which he either settled again to rest, or rose in a
sho