house. They had thought it must be a fire, and not until they reached the library did they know what had really happened.
"And then," said Kitty indignantly, in conclusion of her own recital, "we were not allowed to stay with the others, but were sent to our rooms. So how can we give any evidence?"
It was plain to be seen, Miss French felt herself defrauded of an opportunity that should have been hers, but Miss Gardner was of quite a different mind. She answered in whispered monosyllables the questions put by the coroner, and as she knew no more than Kitty of the whole matter, she was not questioned much.
Robert Fessenden smiled a little at the different attitudes of the two girls. He knew Kitty was eager to hear all the exciting details, while Molly shrank from the whole subject. However, as they were such minor witnesses, the coroner paid little serious attention to them or to their statements.
Miss Morton's testimony came next. Fessenden regarded her with interest, as, composed and calm, she waited the coroner's interrogations.
She was deliberate and careful in making her replies, and it seemed to the young detective as if she knew nothing whatever about the whole affair, but was trying to imply that she knew a great deal.
"You went to your room when the others did, at about ten o'clock?" asked Mr. Benson.
"Yes, but I did not retire at once."
"Did you hear any sounds that caused you alarm?"
"No, not alarm. Curiosity, perhaps, but that is surely pardonable to a naturally timid woman in a strange house."
"Then you did hear sounds. Can you describe them?"
"I do not think they were other than those made by the servants attending to their duties. But the putting on of coal or the fastening of windows are noticeable sounds when one is not accustomed to them."
"You could discern, then, that it was the shovelling of coal or the fastening of windows that you heard?"
"No, I could not. My hearing is extremely acute, but as my room is on the third floor, all the sounds I heard were faint and muffled."
"Did you hear Mr. Carleton's cry for help?"
"I did, but at that distance it did not sound loud. However, I was sufficiently alarmed to open my door and step out into the hall. I had not taken off my evening gown, and, seeing bright lights downstairs, of course I immediately went down. The household was nearly all assembled when I reached the library. I saw at once what had happened, and I saw, too, that Mrs. Markham and the younger women were quite frantic with fright and excitement. I thought it my duty therefore to take up the reins of government, and I took the liberty of telephoning for the doctor. I think there is nothing more of importance that I can tell you."
At this Fessenden barely repressed a smile, for he could not see that Miss Morton had told anything of importance at all.
"I would like," said Mr. Benson, "for you to inform us as to your relations with the Van Norman household. Have you been long acquainted with Miss Van Norman?"
"About two years," replied Miss Morton, with a snapping together of her teeth, which was one of her many peculiarities of manner.
"And how did the acquaintance come about?"
"Her uncle and I were friends many years ago," said Miss Morton. "I knew Richard Van Norman before Madeleine was born. We quarrelled, and I never saw him again. After his death Madeleine wrote to me, and several letters passed between us. At her invitation I made a short visit here about a year ago. Again, at her invitation, I came here yesterday to be present at her wedding." Miss Morton's manner, though quiet, betokened repressed excitement rather than suppressed emotion. In no way did her hard, bright eyes show grief or sorrow, but they flashed in a way that indicated high nervous pressure.
"Did you know that you were to inherit this house and a large sum of money at Miss Van Norman's death?" The question was thrown at her so suddenly that Miss Morton almost gasped.
She hesitated for an appreciable instant, then with a sudden snap of her strong, angular jaw, she said, "No!"
"You had no intimation of it whatever?"
"No." Again that excessive decision of manner, which to Fessenden's mind, at least, stultified rather than corroborated the verity of her statement.
But Coroner Benson expressed no doubt of his witness, but merely said casually:
"Yet, on the occasion of the tragedy last night, you at once assumed the attitude of the head of the house. You gave orders to the servants, you took up the reins of management, and seemed to anticipate the fact that the house was eventually to be your own."
Miss Morton looked aghast. If one chose to think so, she looked as if detected in a false statement. Glancing round the room, she saw the eyes of Kitty French and of Marie, the maid, intently fixed on her. This seemed to unnerve her, and in a broken, trembling voice, almost a whine, she said:
"If I did so, it was only with a helpful motive. Mrs. Markham was so collapsed with the shock she had just sustained, that she was really incapable of giving orders. If I did so, it was only from a desire to be of service."
This seemed indeed plausible, and the most casual observer would know that Miss Morton's "helpfulness" could only be accomplished in a peremptory and dictatorial manner.
"Will you tell us why Miss Van Norman chose to leave you so large a bequest, when she had known you so slightly?" asked Mr. Benson.
Fessenden thought Miss Morton would resent this question, but instead she answered, willingly enough:
"Because she knew that except for my unfortunate quarrel with Richard Van Norman, many years ago, the place would have been mine any way."
"You mean you were to have married Mr. Van Norman."
"I mean just that."
Miss Morton looked a little defiant, but also an air of pride tinged her statement, and she seemed to be asserting her lifelong right to the property.
"Miss Van Norman, then, knew of your friendship with her uncle, and the reason of its cessation?"
"She learned of it about two years ago."
"How?"
"By finding some letters of mine among Mr. Van Norman's papers, shortly after his death."
"And in consequence of that discovery she willed you this house at her death?"
"Yes; that is, I suppose she must have done so —as she did so will it."
"But you did not know of it, and the reading of the will was to you a surprise?"
"Yes," declared Miss Morton, and though the coroner then dismissed her without comment on her statements, there were several present who did not believe the lady spoke veraciously.
Tom Willard was called next, and Fessenden wondered what could be the testimony of a man who had not arrived on the scene until more than two hours after the deed was done.
And indeed there was little that Tom could say. Mr. Benson asked him to detail his own movements after he left the house the night before.
"There's little to tell," said Tom, "but I'll try to be exact. I went away from this house about ten o'clock, taking with me a suit-case full of clothes. I went directly to the Mapleton Inn, and though I don't know exactly, I should say I must have reached there in something less than ten minutes. Then I went to the office of the establishment, registered, and asked for a room. The proprietor gave me a good enough room, a bellboy picked up my bag, and I went to my room at once."
"And remained there?"
"Yes; later I rang for some ice water, which the same boy brought to me. Directly after that I turned in. I slept soundly until awakened by a knocking at my door at about two o'clock in the morning."
"The message from this house?"
"Yes. The landlord himself stood there when I opened the door, and told me I was wanted