"And you do not know what became of them?"
"No."
"Or into whose hands they fell?"
"No, but probably into the hands of the wretch——"
To the astonishment of everybody he was on the verge of vehemence; but becoming sensible of it, he controlled himself with a suddenness that was almost shocking.
"Find the murderer of this poor girl," said he, with a quiet air that was more thrilling than any display of passion, "and ask him where he got the keys with which he opened the door of my father's house at midnight."
Was this a challenge, or just the natural outburst of an innocent man. Neither the jury nor the Coroner seemed to know, the former looking startled and the latter nonplussed. But Mr. Gryce, who had moved now into view, smoothed the head of his cane with quite a loving touch, and did not seem at this moment to feel its inequalities objectionable.
"We will certainly try to follow your advice," the Coroner assured him. "Meanwhile we must ask how many rings your wife is in the habit of wearing?"
"Five. Two on the left hand and three on the right."
"Do you know these rings?"