Instantly a great stir took place in the whole body of spectators. Necks were stretched, heads were craned, and a general sigh swept from end to end of the room as the coroner wrenched the cover from the box, lifted out the pencil, raised it to his nose, and then passed it down to the jury. Only one person in sight failed to follow these significant movements with looks of curious interest; and that was the unhappy man who thus saw the finger of suspicion, which had been simply wavering in his direction, settle into immobility and point inexorably towards him. A white face and a sinking heart were shown by Alfred Gillespie at that moment; and in the features of Hope, disclosed for one instant under the stress of her mortal anxiety, I saw his anxiety reflected as in a mirror.
The jury whispered together with nods and significant looks as this small pencil passed from hand to hand—I had almost said from nose to nose. Then silence was restored, and the coroner, with a sudden change of manner startling to observe in one whose bearing and tone reflected his feelings almost too openly, called an expert in poisons to the stand.
His testimony established three facts: that the smell of prussic acid is unmistakable; that this poison, though volatile in its character, preserves its own individual odour for a long time if not subjected to too much air; and, lastly, that if the pencil smelt of the bottle, the pocket in which they both had lain would also give out the same odour of bitter almonds.
When the expert was seated, Detective Sweetwater was called back. And then for the first time I noticed a large package encumbering the coroner's desk. As this package was being unrolled, I stole a look at the witness, who, from his assured air, evidently had the thread of Alfred's future destiny in his hand, and was astonished to see how attractive a very plain man can sometimes become.
Perhaps I have not spoken of this young detective's plainness. It was so marked and of such an unrelieved type that, after once seeing the man, you could never again think of him without recalling his lank frame and inharmonious features.
Yet as he stood there, calm amidst the tremor of this throng, his eye sparkled with such intelligence that I trembled for the man whose cause he was expected to damage with his testimony. Seeing that my feelings were shared by those about me, I glanced back at the coroner's table to see what the unrolling of that package had revealed, and saw, hanging from the coroner's hands, three vests, which he proceeded to display, one by one, before the witness.
"What are these?" he asked, with a stern look down the room, calculated to suppress any too open demonstration of interest.
"Vests; the property of the three gentlemen members of the present Gillespie household; in other words, those severally worn by Messrs. George, Leighton, and Alfred Gillespie on the evening of their father's death."
"How do you know these particular vests to be the ones then worn?"
"From their material and cut, of which I took especial note at the time."