"Oh, I always have enough of them in my room."
The coroner's hand went in characteristic action to his chin. Evidently he found his position difficult.
"No poison in this bottle," he declared. "None in the one your old butler drained, and, so far as we are able to judge, none in the phial of chloral found standing on the study mantelpiece! Yet your father died from taking prussic acid. Cannot one of you assist me in saying how this came about? It will save us unnecessary trouble and the house some scandal."
It was an appeal which the sons of Mr. Gillespie could little afford to ignore. Yet while each and all of them paled under the searching gaze which accompanied it, none of them spoke till the silence becoming unendurable, Leighton made an extraordinary effort and remarked:
"My father was a proud man. If he chose—I say, if he chose to end his troubles in this unfortunate way, he would plan to leave behind him no sign of an act calculated to bring such opprobrium upon his household. He would have acted under the hope that his death would be taken as the result of his late sickness. That is doubtless why you fail to find the phial from which the poison was poured."
"Hum! Yes! I see. Your father had troubles, then?"
The answer was unexpected.
"My father had three sons, none of whom gave him unalloyed comfort. Is not this true, George? Is not this true, Alfred?"
Startled by the sudden appeal which, coming as it did from a man of great personal pride, produced an effect thrilling to the spectators as well as to the men addressed, the brothers flushed deeply, but ventured upon no protest.
"You and father have always been on good enough terms," growled George, with an attempt at fairness which gained point from the dogged air with which it was given.