"Never mind your opinions of your employers," commanded the coroner sternly. "Simply answer my questions. What did you do with the letters?"

"I took 'em to Miss Janet."

"Is that your custom?"

"Yes, sah. She looks 'em ober, an' if dey's bills she doesn't gib 'em to Mr. Pembroke till after breakfast, sah."

"Where was Miss Pembroke when you gave her the mail?"

"In her own room, sah, jes' finishin' dressin'."

"What did you do next?"

"Den Miss Janet she tole me to knock on Mr. Pembroke's door, so he'd know breakfas' was ready. An' I did, but he didn't answer. Gen'ally he hollers at me when I knock. So I knock again an' again, an' when he don't holler out cross-like, I 'mos' know sumpin's wrong. So I went and tol' Miss Janet dat her uncle didn't answer back. An' she say: 'Oh, pshaw, he's asleep. Knock again.'"

"Did you do so?"

"Yes, sah. An' still he don't holler out ugly, like he always do. Den I got awful scart, an' I begged Miss Janet to go in his room. An' den she did. An' she scream out: 'Oh, Charlotte, uncle has had a stroke or sumpin! What shall we do?' An' I say: 'Oh, Miss Janet, send for de doctor.' An' she telephoned right away, an' bimeby he come."

"That will do," said Mr. Ross. "From that time on, we have had the history of events. But to go back to last night. Were you in the house last evening?"

"Yes, sah; dat is, I was, after nine o'clock. I went out befo' dat, but I come in sharp at nine, as Miss Janet had tole me to."

"There were no guests here when you returned?"

"No sah; no comp'ny. Miss Janet and her uncle—dey sat in de drawin' room, conversationin'."

The way Charlotte's eyes rolled about, and the quizzical look on her face, gave a distinct hint as to the nature of the conversation.

"Was the conversation of a pleasant sort?" the Coroner could not refrain from saying.

"Laws, no, sah! Marse Pembroke, he nebber conversed pleasantly, sah. He jes' nachelly scold Miss Janet always. Sometimes wusser dan odders,—but always scoldin'."

"What was he scolding her about?"

"I dunno. I jes' walked by de do', but I 'spect,——" Here Charlotte rolled her eyes toward Miss Pembroke, and the expression on that young lady's face, was so unmistakably a desire for Charlotte to cease her revelations, that I was not surprised at the colored woman's obedience to it.

"Go on," said Mr. Ross, "what do you suspect?"

"Nuffin, sah! nuffin 'tall."

"But you were about to say something?"

Again Charlotte rolled her eyes toward Miss Pembroke, and again the girl gave her a look which as plainly as words, forbade her to continue.

"Oh, laws," said Charlotte, easily, "den I 'spect old Marse Pembroke wuz jes' blowin' her up kase de bills wuz so big. He always said de bills wuz 'normous, even if dey wuz as small as anything. Dey wasn't no pleasin' dat man, no how."

Mr. Ross abandoned this line of query and began a fresh subject.

"Sit here," he said to Charlotte, indicating a seat where she could not see Miss Pembroke, who was directly behind her. "Now," he went on, "remember you are under oath to tell the truth, and see that you do it! Did you hear Mr. Pembroke or Miss Pembroke make any reference to a large sum of money?"

Charlotte said nothing. She twisted and turned in an endeavor to look round at Miss Pembroke, but the Coroner sternly ordered her to sit still and to answer the question. He added some remarks of a warning nature about punishment for untruthfulness, which so worked upon her half-ignorant mind that Charlotte became greatly agitated.

"Mus' I tell de trufe to you-all?" she gasped, in a stage whisper.

"Yes, and quickly," commanded Mr. Ross.

"Well, den, Miss Janet, she did ask Mr. Pembroke for a lot o' money."

"And he refused her?"

"Well, sah, he 'llowed as he'd gib it to her, ef she'd marry dat Leroy man."

At this point George Lawrence interposed.

"I cannot think it necessary," he said, "to allow the exposure of these personal matters, and especially through the medium of an ignorant servant."

I quite agreed with the speaker, and I admired the manly, dignified manner which accompanied his words. It seemed to me distinctly mean and petty to wrest these intimate revelations from the colored woman.

"In a case like this, Mr. Lawrence," the Coroner replied, "the law is justified in getting evidence from any reliable source. And I am convinced that this woman is telling us the truth."

"But truths that are irrelevant to the matter in hand," declared Lawrence. "Your investigation, I take it, is for the purpose of discovering the murderer of Mr. Robert Pembroke; and it surely cannot aid you to pry into the personal affairs of Miss Pembroke."

"It is quite possible," said the Coroner, coldly, "that Miss Pembroke's personal affairs may have some bearing on our quest. However I agree with you, to this extent. I think it will be preferable not to learn of these matters through the testimony of a menial. I think I should prefer to learn the truth from Miss Pembroke herself. Miss Pembroke, will you now give your evidence?"

Doctor Masterson's expression had grown even more worried than before. He seemed to me to look positively alarmed, and I wondered what it was that troubled him so.

Miss Pembroke, on the contrary, was absolutely composed, and had again assumed that air of hauteur which I had sometimes noticed on her face when I had met her before I was privileged to speak to her, but which had been utterly absent since her uncle's death.

The coroner looked at her, not unkindly, but with an air of coldness which quite matched her own.

"Your name?" he said briefly.

"Janet Pembroke."

"Your relation to the deceased?"

"That of great-niece. Robert Pembroke was my grandfather's brother."

"You lived with him?"

"I have lived with him since I was sixteen."

"Was he kind to you?"

"No."

This was said without a trace of anger or resentment, but merely in the tones of one stating a simple fact.

"Why was he not kind to you?"

"I know of no reason, save that he was not of a kindly disposition. He had a dreadful and ungovernable temper, which was doubtless due in part, at least, to the fact that he suffered greatly from gout."

"Was he—was he cruel to you?"

"Yes."

"Did he ever offer you personal violence?"

"He has struck me several times."

My blood boiled at these revelations. To think of that exquisite creature at the mercy of an angry brute!

"Why did you not leave him?"

"I had no other home, and, too, he needed me to look after him."

"He could afford to hire caretakers."

"Yes, but he was my only living relative, except my cousin, Mr. Lawrence, and I felt that I owed him care and attention in return for what he had always done for me. Besides, it was difficult for him to keep servants of any sort. They always left after a few of his violent exhibitions of temper."

"Was he liberal with you in money matters?"

"He was not."

"Do you refer to money for household expenses or for your personal use?"

"To both."

"Do you know the contents of your uncle's will?"

"I do."

"You know, then, that by his death you will inherit a large sum of money?"

"Yes."

This conversation was listened to intently by all present, and it seemed to me that at this point the coroner's face took on an even harder and colder look than it had had before. I wondered why he seemed so devoid of sympathy or even of common humanity as his metallic voice rang out the questions.

"You heard the testimony of Charlotte, your servant?"

"Yes."

"You corroborate it?"

"I do, so far as it concerns my actions."

"Then you saw your uncle first this morning, when Charlotte called you to his room?"

"Yes."

"And you thought him ill?"

"I feared he was dead, he looked so white and still. But I thought it might be a paralytic stroke, or something that would cause an appearance similar to that of death."

"Did you touch the body?"

"No." Miss Pembroke gave a slight shudder, which seemed to be not without its effect on the coroner.

"Why not?"

At this she looked extremely white and her lip quivered slightly, but with a sudden accession of extreme dignity she drew herself up proudly and answered:

"I saw no occasion to do so, and I deemed the proper thing was to send at once for our family physician."

Still the coroner eyed her in a peculiar way, I thought, as, without cessation, he continued to question her.

"When did you last see your uncle alive?"

"When he left the drawing-room last evening, to retire to his bedroom."

"Was he apparently as well as usual?"

"Quite so. His gout was troublesome, but he had no other ailment that I know of."

"At what hour was this?"

"About ten o'clock."

"Was your uncle in a bad temper when he left you?"

"He was."

"Especially so?"

"Yes."

"What was the reason?"

"He had been looking over the household accounts, and he accused me of extravagance."

"Did he often do this?"

"Invariably, upon looking over the bills."

"You always expected it, then?"

"Always," and Miss Pembroke's face showed an expression of resignation, that made it pathetic to look upon. What that poor little girl must have suffered from that parsimonious old man!

"Did your Uncle show anger with you for any other cause?"

Miss Pembroke hesitated. And then, though with a rising color in her pale face, she replied, "He did."

"I'm sorry, Miss Pembroke, to be unpleasantly inquisitive, but it is imperative that I should know the facts of the case. What was the reason of your uncle's anger, aside from the question of your household bills?"

"He was angry with me because I refused to become engaged to Mr. Leroy."

"Mr. Graham Leroy, your uncle's lawyer?"

"Yes, that is the man."

"Your uncle wished you to marry him?"

"He did."

"Mr. Leroy has asked you to become his wife?"

"He has."

The cold, even tones of the two speakers, and the quiet expressionless faces seemed to rob this strange conversation of all hint of personality. For myself, I felt a glad thrill that Janet Pembroke could speak thus dispassionately of the man with whom I had feared she was in love. And, yet, in love with him she might be, for as a lawyer, I knew much of the vagaries and contradictions of woman's perversity; and I realized that the mere fact of Miss Pembroke's excessive calm might mean only a hiding of excessive emotion.

Inexorably the Coroner went on.

"Did your uncle promise you a large sum of money if you would marry Mr. Leroy?"

Miss Pembroke flashed a reproachful glance at Charlotte, who had of course brought about this question, but she answered, in a steady voice: "It was not of the nature of a bargain, as your words seem to imply."

"But you had asked him for a large sum of money?"

"I had done so."

"You asked him last evening?"

"Yes."

"Knowing that he had a large sum of money in the house?"

"I——I was not sure that he had." It was the first time that the girl had stammered or hesitated in her speech, and though it told against her in the minds of the jurors, yet to me it only showed a giving way of her enforced calm.

"What did you want the money for?" said the Coroner, suddenly.

Miss Pembroke looked at him, and now, her eyes flashed like those of an accusing goddess. "You have no right to ask that!" she exclaimed, "and I refuse to tell."

"It certainly has no bearing on the case," said George Lawrence, and his haughty, disdainful tones seemed like a sneer at the way the Coroner was conducting matters.

Mr. Ross turned red, but he did not repeat his question. Instead, he took up a new line of query.

"Had your Uncle any enemies that you know of?"

"I do not know exactly what you mean by enemies," replied Miss Pembroke; "owing to his unfortunate disposition, my uncle had no friends, but I do not know of anyone whom I would consider an aggressive enemy.

"Your uncle went to his room, you say, at about ten o'clock?"

"Yes, that was his usual hour for retiring."

"And after you yourself retired, did you hear anything in the night—any noise, that might have seemed unusual?"

"N—n—no," came a hesitating answer, after a considerable pause. Surely, no one could doubt that this girl was not telling all she knew! The evidence that she gave was fairly forced from her; it came hesitatingly, and her statements were unconvincing. She needed help, she needed counsel; she was too young and inexperienced to cope with the situation in which she found herself. But though I judged her thus leniently, the Coroner did not, and speaking almost sharply, he said:

"Consider carefully, Miss Pembroke. Are you sure you heard no noise in the night?"

Her calm seemed to have returned. "In an apartment house," she said, "there are always unexplainable noises. It is impossible to tell whether they come from the halls, the other apartments or the elevator. But I heard no noise that I considered suspicious or of evil import. Nothing to indicate what,—what must have taken place." She shuddered and buried her face in her hands as if to shut out an awful, imaginary sight.

"Then when you last saw or heard your uncle he was leaving you in a fit of rage?"

"Yes."

When Janet said this her eyes filled with tears, and I could readily understand how it hurt the tender-hearted young girl to remember that her uncle's last words to her had been uttered in anger. This, however, did not seem to affect the coroner. He went steadily on, with his voice singularly lacking in inflections.

"What did you do after your uncle retired?"

"I sat in the drawing-room and read for an hour or so."

"And then?"

"Then I put out the lights and went to bed."

Janet seemed to think that this ended her examination, and started to return to her seat; but the coroner stopped her.

"Miss Pembroke," he said, "I must ask you a few more questions. Where was your servant?"

"She had gone to bed some time earlier—about nine o'clock, I should say."

"So that after your uncle left you you were alone?"

"Yes."

"And when you went to bed you put out the lights for the night?"

"Yes."

"You——" The coroner hesitated for the fraction of a second, and then cleared his throat and went on: "You put the night-chain on the front door?"

"Yes." Janet spoke as if the matter were of no importance.

"Then—pardon me, Miss Pembroke—but if you put the chain on last night, at eleven, and Charlotte took it off this morning, at eight, how was it possible for a marauder to enter, as the inspector tells me he finds all the windows fastened, except those which Charlotte says she opened herself this morning?"

"I don't know," said Janet, the dazed look returning to her pale face, and then, sinking to the floor, she again swooned away.