LITMIR.BIZ

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He said he didn't want no alarm, because it was forever getting out o' kilter, and bolts were surer, after all."

      "And every night you make sure that these bolts and fastenings are all secured in place?"

      "I do, sir, and I have done it for many years."

      "You looked after them last night, as usual?"

      "Sure, sir; every one of them I attended to myself."

      "You can testify, then, that the house could not have been entered by a burglar last night?" asked Mr. Benson.

      "Not by a burglar, nor by nobody else, sir, unless they broke down a door or cut out a pane of glass."

      "Yet Mr. Carleton came in."

      Harris looked annoyed. "Of course, sir, anybody could come in the front door with a latch-key. I didn't mean that they couldn't. But all the other doors and windows were fastened all right, and I found them all right this morning."

      "You made a careful examination of them?"

      "Yes, sir. Of course we was all up through the night, and as soon as I learned that Miss Madeleine was—was gone, sir, I felt I ought to look about a bit. And everything was as right as could be, sir. No burglar was into this house last night, sir."

      "How about the cellar?"

      "We never bother much about the cellar, sir, as there's nothing down there to steal, unless they take the furnace or the gas-meter. But the door at the top of the cellar stairs, as opens into the hall, sir, is locked every night with a double lock and a bolt besides."

      "Then no burglar could come up through the cellar way?"

      "That he couldn't, sir. Nor yet down through the skylight, for the skylight is bolted every night same as the windows."

      "And the windows on the second floor—are they fastened at night?"

      "They are in the halls, sir. But of course in the bedrooms I don't know how they may be. That is, the occupied bedrooms. When the guest rooms are vacant I always fasten those windows."

      "Then you can testify, Harris, that there was no way for any one to enter this house last night except at the front door with a latch-key or through the window of some occupied bedroom?"

      "I can swear to that, sir."

      "You are sure you've overlooked no way? No back window, or seldom-used door?"

      Harris was a little hurt at this insistent questioning, but the coroner recognized that this was a most important bit of evidence, and so pressed his questions.

      "I'm sure of it, sir. Mr. Van Norman taught me to be most thorough about this matter, and I've never done different since Miss Madeleine has been mistress here."

      "That is all, thank you, Harris. You may go." Harris went away, his honest countenance showing a look of relief that his ordeal was over, and yet betokening a perplexed anxiety also.

      Cicely Dupuy was next called upon to give her evidence, or rather to continue the testimony which she had begun in the library. The girl had a pleasanter expression than she had shown at the previous questioning, but a red spot burned in either cheek, and she was clearly trying to be calm, though really under stress of a great excitement.

      "You were with Miss Van Norman in the library last evening?" began Mr. Benson, speaking more gently than he had been doing, for he feared an emotional outburst might again render this witness unavailable.

      "Yes," said Miss Dupuy, in a low tone; "when Mrs. Markham came upstairs she stopped at my door and said Miss Van Norman wanted me, and I went down immediately."

      "You have been Miss Van Norman's secretary for some time?"

      "For nearly five years."

      "What were your duties?"

      "I attended to her social correspondence; helped her with her accounts, both household and personal; read to her, and often did errands and made calls for her."

      "She was kind to you?"

      "She was more than kind. She treated me always as her social equal, and as her friend." Cicely's blue eyes filled with tears, and her voice quivered as she spoke this tribute to her employer.

      Again Mr. Benson feared she would break down, and changed his course of questioning.

      "At what time did you go to the library last evening?"

      "It could not have been more than a few minutes past ten."

      "What did you do there?"

      "Miss Van Norman dictated some lists of matters to be attended to, and she discussed with me a few final arrangements for her wedding."

      "Did she seem about as usual in her manner?"

      "Yes,—except that she was very tired, and seemed a little preoccupied."

      "And then she dismissed you?"

      "Yes. She told me to go to bed, and said that she should sit up for an hour or so, and would write some notes herself."

      "Apparently she did not do so, as no notes have been found in the library."

      "That must be so, sir."

      But as she said this, a change came over Miss Dupuy's face. She seemed to think that the absence of those notes was of startling importance, and though she tried not to show her agitation, it was clearly evident from the way she bit her lower lip, and clenched her fingers.

      "At what time did Miss Van Norman dismiss you?" asked Mr. Benson, seeming to ignore her embarrassment.

      "At half-past ten."

      "Did you retire at once?"

      "No; I had some notes to write for Miss Van Norman, and also some of my own, and I sat at my desk for some time. I don't know just how long."

      "And then what happened?"

      At this question Cicely Dupuy became more nervous and embarrassed than ever. She hesitated and then made two or three attempts to speak, each one of which resulted in no intelligible sound.

      Chapter X.

       Some Testimony

       Table of Contents

      "There is nothing to fear," said Mr. Benson kindly. "Simply tell us what you heard while sitting there writing, that caused you to leave your room."

      Glancing around as if in search of some one, Cicely finally managed to make an audible reply. "I heard a loud cry," she said, "that sounded as if somebody were frightened or in danger. I naturally ran out into the hall, and, looking over the baluster, I saw Mr. Carleton in the hall below. I felt sure then that it was he who had cried out, so I came downstairs."

      "At what time was this?"

      "At half-past eleven exactly."

      "How do you know so accurately?"

      "Because as I came downstairs the old clock on the middle landing chimed the half-hour. It has a deep soft note, and it struck just as I passed the clock, and it startled me a little, so of course I remember it perfectly."

      "And then?"

      "And then—" Cicely again hesitated, but with a visible effort resumed her speech— "why, and then I came on down, and found Mr. Carleton nearly distracted. I could not guess what was the matter. He was turning on the lights and ringing the servants' bells and acting like a man beside himself. Then in a moment Marie appeared, and gave one of her French shrieks that completely upset what little nerve I had left."

      "And what did you do next?"

      "I—I went into the library."

      "Why?"

      Cicely looked up suddenly, as if startled, but after only an instant's hesitation replied:

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