was going rapidly."
"That would scarcely seem to indicate the motor vehicle of a caterer."
"Nor do I say that it did. I have no reason to give the car any thought whatever; and I have merely a memory of the car passing me as I finished my cigarette and returned to the dancing-room. I can tell you no more of it."
"You didn't notice its occupants?"
"No; nor could I see them distinctly. I fancy, however, there were three or four men in it; but again, that is merely an impression I gained from the fleeting vision. I turned away from it, even as it passed me."
After a few more inquiries the Earl was dismissed, and other witnesses followed. None was important, in the sense of throwing any further light on the incidents of the evening before.
The Whitings and other guests who had been in the drawing-room, simply repeated what was already known.
The servants had heard no shots, but as they were at that time in the outer kitchen, busily engaged in preparations for supper, that was not surprising.
The coachman and gardener had rooms in the barn buildings, and said they heard nothing unusual until notified of the catastrophe.
There were now no more witnesses to be heard from, save the most important one of all, Mildred Leslie.
Dr. Sheldon consented that she should be interviewed, but requested a delay of an hour or so.
The coroner, therefore, announced a brief recess, and as we had all given our testimony, we were not required to remain in the drawing-room with the jury and the officials. But as we were all more than anxious to be on hand to hear Mildred's statement, we did not drift far away.
Gilbert Crane and I strolled on the front lawn, smoking and discussing the inquest. I was most curious to know the reason of his extraordinary hesitation at some points of his testimony, but not caring to inquire directly, I resolved to find out in a roundabout way.
"What did you think of Miss Gardiner's testimony?" I asked.
"I think the poor girl was so agitated she did not know what she was saying," he replied somewhat shortly, and as if he did not wish to dwell on the subject.
But I was not to be turned from it
"It is not like Miss Gardiner," I went on, "to lose her poise in an emergency. She is usually so calm and self-possessed."
"I do not consider Miss Gardiner's a calm temperament," said Crane; "I think she is decidedly emotional."
"Emotional, yes; but she has a wonderful control over her emotions. And aside from that, she positively contradicted herself this morning. I wonder if she did walk around to the west side of the balcony and look in at the library window." This was mere idle speculation on my part, but it had a strange effect on Gilbert Crane.
"What do you mean?" he cried angrily. "Are you insinuating anything against Miss Gardiner's veracity, or do you perhaps consider her implicated in the affair?"
"I have no thought of Miss Gardiner, save such as are most honorable and loyal," I said; "but, by the way, Crane, what sort of a gown did she wear last night?"
"I don't know, I'm sure. I'm no authority on ladies' dress. I never notice their furbelows." Somehow, the emphasis with which he said this made me think he was overdoing it, and that perhaps he was not so ignorant as he wished me to suppose. But I had no desire to antagonize him, so I dropped the discussion of Irene altogether.
He was amiable enough then, and we returned to the house, chatting affably.
Determined to settle a certain point, I went in search of Miss Maxwell, and found that good lady in the study with her brother.
"Miss Miranda," I said, without subterfuge, "what sort of a gown did Miss Gardiner wear last evening?"
"Irene? Why, she had on a lovely rose-colored silk-gauze—a sort of pineapple material."
"Was it trimmed with black spangles?"
"No, Peter, it was all pink."
She didn't inquire why I wished to know; indeed, I think she scarcely realized what she was talking about, for she spoke almost automatically.
I understood this, for all day she had seemed dazed and bewildered, and unable to concentrate her mind.
"What is it, Peter?" asked Mr. Maxwell, "have you learned anything new?"
They were very pathetic, these two old people, who had lost their only link to the world of youth and happiness, but the brother seemed to me especially to be pitied. Owing to his deafness, he heard nothing except what was directly addressed to him, and was naturally anxious for any side-lights on the affair.
"No, sir," I replied, "nothing new. But I think we shall soon hear Miss Leslie's statement, and then we will know where to begin our work."
"Leave no stone unturned, my boy; call on me for any money you may need, and spare no trouble or expense in your efforts. You're something of a detective yourself, aren't you, Peter? Can't you ferret this thing out?"
"I mean to try, sir," I replied. "But we have lost so much time, and there is so little evidence, I have small hope of success."
"Have you any theory or suspicion?" asked Mr. Maxwell.
I couldn't tell him of my finding the spangles, and I hadn't a thought of Irene that could deserve the name suspicion, but he seemed to notice my hesitation.
"You needn't answer that," he said in a kind way, "only remember this, my boy. Be careful how you proceed on suspicion, unless your proof is pretty positive. Trace your clues carefully, and don't let them mislead you."
It seemed as if he must have read my thought—or had he too found some spangles?
Well, at any rate, I would follow his advice, and be very careful before I let even my own thoughts doubt Irene.
And now we heard the people coming down from up-stairs, and all hastened back to the drawing-room.
Since Mildred's assertion that Philip was killed by an intruder, the district attorney had been called in, and had of course attended the whole inquest. He was a Mr. Edwards, and seemed to be, an alert and intelligent man.
Like the rest of us, he eagerly awaited the expected statement, and when the Coroner rose, the general excitement, though subdued, was intense.
Chapter X.
Mildred's Strange Story
"I will call the next witness," the coroner announced, "Miss Mildred Leslie."
There was an expectant hush all over the room, as Mildred came through the door, supported on one side by the white-capped nurse and on the other by Doctor Sheldon. Edith Whiting followed, looking very anxious, and, it seemed to me, annoyed. I knew she thought her sister was not well enough to go through this ordeal, but I knew, too, that it must be gone through, for of course this testimony was the most important of all.
Mr. Billings looked at his witness almost with consternation, when he saw how weak and fragile she appeared, and he spoke in very gentle tones.
"Miss Leslie," he said, "I will detain you no longer than is absolutely necessary. Will you tell, in your own words, the story of what occurred last evening in the library?"
Mildred stirred uneasily in the big chair, where the nurse had placed her, and grasped nervously at the hand of Miss Lathrop as she sat beside her. The nurse, the doctor and Edith Whiting were all looking anxiously at Milly as if afraid of her collapse.
But seeming to nerve herself, with an effort, the girl began:
"Philip Maxwell and I were in the library, and had been there some time, when a man appeared."
"Wait a moment, Miss Leslie,"