ruck by the involuntary cry of surprise which rose from some
one in the crowd about the door, than by the look with which Mr.
Jeffrey eyed it and made the necessary reply. That cry had something
more than nervous excitement in it. Identifying the person who had
uttered it as a certain busy little woman well known in town, I
sent an officer to watch her; then recalled my attention to the point
the coroner was attempting to make. He had forced Mr. Jeffrey to
recognize the ribbon as the one which had fastened the pistol to
his wife's arm; now he asked whether, in his opinion, a woman could
tie such a bow to her own wrist, and when in common justice Mr.
Jeffrey was obliged to say no, waited a third time before he put
the general suspicion again into words:

"Can not you, by some means or some witness, prove to us that it
was on Tuesday night and not on Wednesday you spent the hours you
speak of on this scene of your marriage and your wife's death?"

The hopelessness which more than once had marked Mr. Jeffrey's
features since the beginning of this inquiry, reappeared with renewed
force as this suggestive question fell again upon his ears; and he
was about to repeat his plea of forgetfulness when the coroner's
attention was diverted by a request made in his ear by one of the
detectives. In another moment Mr. Jeffrey had been waved aside and
a new witness sworn in.

You can imagine every one's surprise, mine most of all, when this
witness proved to be Uncle David.

XIV.

"TALLMAN! LET US HAVE TALLMAN!"

I do not know why the coroner had so long delayed to call this
witness. In the ordinary course of events his testimony should
have preceded mine, but the ordinary course of events had not been
followed, and it was only at the request of Mr. Moore himself that
he was now allowed the privilege of appearing before this coroner
and jury.

I speak of it as a privilege because he himself evidently regarded
it as such. Indeed, his whole attitude and bearing as he addressed
himself to the coroner showed that he was there to be looked at and
that he secretly thought he was very well worth this attention.
Possibly some remembrance of the old days, in which he had gone in
and out before these people in a garb suggestive of penury, made
the moment when he could appear before them in a guise more
befitting his station one of incalculable importance to him.

At all events, he confronted us all with an aspect which