this affair of his
cousin's murder could be hushed up it would be hushed up--the Simon
Crood gang, he was persuaded, would move heaven and earth to smooth
things over and consign the entire episode to oblivion. Against that
process he meant to labour: in his opinion the stirring up of strong
public interest was the line to take, and he was fully determined that
if the Coroner and his twelve good men and true could not sift the
problem of this inquiry to the bottom he would.

That public feeling and curiosity--mainly curiosity--were still strong
enough, and were lasting well over the proverbial nine days, Brent saw
as soon as he quitted the hall door of the _Chancellor_ next morning.
The open space between High Cross and the Moot Hall was packed with
people, eager to enter the big court room as soon as the doors were
thrown open. Conscious that he himself would get a seat whoever else did
not, Brent remained standing on the steps of the hotel, lazily watching
the gossiping crowd And suddenly Mrs. Saumarez, once more attired in the
semi-mourning which she had affected at the earlier proceedings, and
attended by the same companion, came along the market-place in his
direction. Brent went down and joined her.

"Pretty stiff crowd!" he remarked laconically. "I'm afraid you'll find
it a bit of a crush this time. I suppose you'll not let that stop you,
though?"

He noticed then that Mrs. Saumarez was looking anxious, perhaps a little
distressed, and certainly not too well pleased. She gave him a glance
which began at himself and ended at a folded paper which she carried in
her well-gloved hand.

"I've got to go!" she murmured. "Got to--whether I like it or not!
They've served me with a summons, as a witness. Ridiculous! What do I
know about it? All that I do know is--private."

Brent stared at the bit of paper. He, too, was wondering what the
Coroner wanted with Mrs. Saumarez.

"I'm afraid they haven't much respect for privacy in these affairs," he
remarked. "Odd, though, that if they want you now they didn't want you
at the first sitting!"

"Do you think they'll ask questions that are--private?" she suggested
half-timidly.

"Can't say," replied Brent. "You'd better be prepared for anything. You
know best, after all, what they can ask you. I reckon the best thing, in
these affairs, is just to answer plainly, and be done with it."

"There are certain things one doesn't want raking up," she murmured.
"For instance--