The coroner gave a nod of approval to Mr. Ferris, and both signified their acquiescence in the measures proposed.
Mr. Gryce at once assumed his usual genial air.
"You may trust me," said he, "to exercise all the discretion you would yourselves show under the circumstances. I have no wish to see the name of such a man blasted by an ineffaceable stain." And he bowed as if about to leave the room.
But Mr. Ferris, who had observed this movement with an air of some uneasiness, suddenly stepped forward and stopped him.
"I wish to ask," said he, "whether superstition has had any thing to do with this readiness on your part to impute the worst meaning to the chance phrases which have fallen from the lips of our severely injured friend. Because his end seems in some regards to mirror that of the widow, have you allowed a remembrance of the words she made use of in the face of death to influence your good judgment as to the identity of Mr. Orcutt with her assassin?"
The face of Mr. Gryce assumed its grimmest aspect.
"Do you think this catastrophe was necessary to draw my attention to Mr. Orcutt? To a man acquainted with the extraordinary coincidence that marked the discovery of Mrs. Clemmens' murder, the mystery must be that Mr. Orcutt has gone unsuspected for so long." And assuming an argumentative air, he asked:
"Were either of you two gentlemen present at the conversation I have mentioned as taking place on the court-house steps the morning Mrs. Clemmens was murdered?"
"I was," said the District Attorney.
"You remember, then, the hunchback who was so free with his views?"