And Nell was allowed to retire from her prominent position. Miss Bostal was waiting for her, and, with a gentle hand, she dragged the girl into a seat beside her, where little could be seen of her now flushed and frightened face.
“There is now only one more witness,” went on the coroner, addressing the jury. “It is the second medical man who helped at the post-mortem.”
“Is not Mr. King to be called?” asked one of the jurymen.
“He is unable to attend. I have a doctor’s certificate to that effect. But after the evidence which has been given, I think his presence was hardly material.”
“Now, I think it very material,” objected a juryman. “He was known to have quarreled with the deceased—”
“It can be proved that he was in bed at the time of his death,” answered the coroner. “He was so much injured that he was watched from the moment he fell down, fainting, after flinging the deceased off.”
“Well, but I submit that we ought to have proof of this in evidence. When a man is found dead, with a bullet in his head—”
He stopped short, his attention arrested, like that of every other person in the court, by a cry, a movement, on the part of Nell Claris. Springing upon her feet she gave a moan, a gasp, and then looking round her with one quick, frightened stare, sank down into her seat.
There was a buzz of whispering, which was checked by the loud cry of “Silence!” as the second doctor was called and sworn. His evidence was only an echo of that of his colleague, and was hardly listened to by the crowd in the court, who were occupied with a stronger situation.
The coroner’s address to the jury was a very short one, and indicated more doubt in the mind of the coroner than existed in the minds of his hearers.