t Dr. Wellesley--in
fact, I am very much surprised that, ignoring these proceedings
altogether, they have not gone to the length of arresting him! Perhaps
that's a card which Superintendent Hawthwaite still keeps up his sleeve.
I may tell him, on behalf of my client, that he's quite welcome to
arrest Dr. Wellesley and bring him before the magistrates whenever he
likes! But as Dr. Wellesley's name has been very freely mentioned this
morning I think it will be only fair, sir, that he should be allowed to
go into that box at once, where he will give evidence on oath----"

"If Dr. Wellesley elects to go into the box," interrupted the Coroner,
"I shall, of course, warn him in the usual way, Mr. Cotman. He is not
bound to give any evidence that might incriminate himself, but no doubt
you have already made him aware of that."

"Dr. Wellesley is very well aware of it, sir," replied Cotman. "I ask
that he should be allowed to give evidence at once."

"Let Dr. Wellesley be called, then," said the Coroner. "That course,
perhaps, will be best."

Brent inspected Wellesley closely as he stepped into the witness-box. He
was a well set-up, handsome man, noted in the town for his correct and
fashionable attire, and he made a distinguished figure as the
centre-point of these somewhat sordid surroundings. That he was
indignant was very obvious; he answered the preliminary questions
impatiently; there was impatience, too, in his manner as after taking
the oath he turned to the Coroner; it seemed to Brent that Wellesley's
notion was that the point-blank denial of a man of honour was enough to
dispose of any charge.

This time the Coroner went to work himself, quietly and confidentially.

"Dr. Wellesley," he began, leaning over his desk, "I need not warn you
in the way I mentioned just now: I'm sure you quite understand the
position. Now, as you have been in Court all the morning, you have heard
the evidence that has already offered itself. As regards the evidence
given by your assistant, Dr. Carstairs, as to your movements and absence
from the surgery between 7.30 and 7.49--is that correct?"

Wellesley drew himself to his full height, and spoke with emphasis:

"Absolutely!"

"And the evidence of the young woman, your housemaid? Is she correct in
what she told us?"

"Quite!"

The Coroner looked down at his papers, his spectacled eyes wandering
about them as if in search of something. Suddenly he looked up.

"There's this matte