"

But Greyle's own solicitor was on his legs, insisting on his right to put
a first question. In spite of Petherton, he put it.

"You heard the evidence of the last witness?--Spurge. Is there a word of
truth in it?"

Marston Greyle--who certainly looked very unwell--moistened his lips.

"Not one word!" he answered. "It's a lie!"

The solicitor glanced triumphantly at the Coroner and the jury, and the
crowd raised unchecked murmurs of approval. Again the foreman endeavoured
to stop the proceedings.

"We regard all this here as very rude conduct to Mr. Greyle," he said
angrily. "We're not concerned--"

"Mr. Foreman!" said Petherton. "You are a foolish man--you are
interfering with justice. Be warned!--I warn you, if the Coroner doesn't.
Mr. Greyle, I must ask you certain questions. Did you see the deceased
Bassett Oliver on Sunday last?"

"No!"

"I needn't remind you that you are on your oath. Have you ever met the
deceased man in your life?"

"Never!"

"You never met him in America?"

"I may have met him--but not to my recollection. If I did, it was in such
a casual fashion that I have completely forgotten all about it."

"Very well--you are on your oath, mind. Where did you live in America,
before you succeeded to this estate?"

The Squire's solicitor intervened.

"Don't answer that question!" he said sharply. "Don't answer any more. I
object altogether to your line," he went on, angrily, turning to
Petherton. "I claim the Coroner's protection for the witness."

"I quite agree," said the Coroner. "All this is absolutely irrelevant.
You can stand down," he continued, turning to the Squire. "I will have no
more of this--and I will take the full responsibility!"

"And the consequences, Mr. Coroner," replied Petherton calmly. "And the
first consequence is that I now formally demand an adjournment of this
inquest, _sine die_."

"On what grounds, sir?" demanded the Coroner.

"To permit me to bring evidence from America," replied Petherton, with a
side glance at Marston Greyle. "Evidence already being prepared."

The Coroner hesitated, looked at Greyle's solicitor, and then turned
sharply to the jury.

"I refuse that application!" he said. "You have heard all I have to say,
gentlemen," he went on, "and you can return your verdict."

Petherton quietly gathered up his papers and motioned to his friends to
follow him out of the schoolroom. The foreman of the jury was returning a
verdict of accidental