e de Mountford's
voice was quite steady as he gave reply.

"You were," continued the coroner, "until quite recently and are again
now heir-presumptive to the Earl of Radclyffe?"

"It was supposed at one time," replied Luke, "that besides myself
there was no other heir to my uncle's title."

"Deceased, I understand, arrived in England about six months ago?"

"So I understand."

"He made claim to be the only son of Lord Radclyffe's brother?"

"That is so."

"And to all appearances was able to substantiate this claim in the
eyes of Lord Radclyffe?"

"Apparently."

"So much so that Lord Radclyffe immediately accorded him that position
in his household which you had previously occupied?"

"Lord Radclyffe accorded to the deceased the position which he thought
fitting that he should occupy."

"You know that the servants in Lord Radclyffe's household have
informed the police that in consequence of Mr. Philip de Mountford's
advent in the house, you and your brother and sister had to leave it?"

"My brother, sister, and I now live at Fairfax Mansions, Exhibition
Road," said Luke evasively.

"And the relations between yourself and the deceased have remained of
a very strained nature, I understand?"

"Of an indifferent nature," corrected Luke.

There was a pause. So far these two--the coroner and the witness--had
seemed almost like two antagonists going through the first passes of a
duel with foils. Steel had struck against steel, curt answers had
followed brief questions. Now the combatants paused to draw breath.
One of them was fighting the preliminary skirmish for his life against
odds that were bound to overwhelm him in the end: the other was just a
paid official, indifferent to the victim, interested only in the
issue. The man standing at the foot of the table was certainly
interesting: the coroner had made up his mind that he was the guilty
party--a gentleman and yet a cowardly assassin; he amused himself
during this brief pause with a quick analysis of the high-bred,
impassive face--quite Saxon in character, fair and somewhat heavy of
lid--in no way remarkable save for the present total lack of
expression. There was neither indifference nor bravado, neither fear,
remorse, nor defiance--only a mask made of wood, hiding every line of
the mouth, and not allowing even the eyes to show any signs of
vitality.

Beyond that the whole appearance was essentially English: the fair
hair neatly groomed, with just a