ed Carstairs, without the ghost of a smile. "He
was--just as usual."

"When did you see him next, after he went out to keep the appointment in
Meadow Gate?"

"About half-past eight, or a little later."

"Where?"

"At the mortuary. He sent for me. I went to the mortuary, and found him
there with Dr. Barber. They were making an examination of the dead man
and wanted my help."

"Was Dr. Wellesley excited or upset then?"

"He was not. He seemed to me--I'm speaking professionally, mind
you--remarkably cool."

Cotman suddenly sat down, and turned to his client with a smile on his
lips. Evidently he made some cynical remark to Wellesley, for Wellesley
smiled too.

"Smart chap, Cotman!" whispered Tansley to Brent. "That bit of
cross-exam'll tell with the jury. And now, what next?"

Bunning, recalled from the previous sitting, came next--merely to repeat
that the Mayor went up to his parlour at twenty-five minutes past seven,
and that he and Mr. Brent found his Worship dead just after eight
o'clock. Following him came Dr. Barber, who testified that when he first
saw Wallingford's dead body, just about a quarter-past eight, he came to
the conclusion that death had taken place about forty-five minutes
previously, perhaps a little less. And from him Cotman drew evidence
that Wellesley, in the examination at the mortuary, was normal, calm,
collected, and, added Dr. Barber, of his own will, greatly annoyed and
horrified at the murder.

Brent was beginning to get sick of this new development: to him it
seemed idle and purposeless. He whispered as much to Tansley. But
Tansley shook his head.

"Can't say that," he replied. "Where was Wellesley during that nineteen
minutes' absence from the surgery? He'll have to explain that anyway.
But they'll have more evidence than what we've heard. Hello! here's
Walkershaw, the Borough Surveyor! What are they going to get out of him,
I wonder?"

Brent watched an official-looking person make his way to the
witness-box. He was armed with a quantity of rolls of drawing-paper, and
a clerk accompanied him whose duty, it presently appeared, was to act as
a living easel and hold up these things, diagrams and outlines, while
his principal explained them. Presently the eager audience found itself
listening to what was neither more nor less than a lecture on the
architecture of Hathelsborough Moot Hall and its immediately adjacent
buildings--and then Brent began to see the drift of the Boroug