I must have dozed, toward morning, for I dreamed that I was alone upon a wide field of ice, running madly forward toward a dim light that constantly receded as I approached it, and followed by a pack of hungry wolves. Their yelps and cries filled me with dread. I awoke trembling, and listened. Far off I heard the mournful howling of a dog, a series of low, unearthly howls, that would die slowly away only to be once more repeated. It seemed like the moaning of an animal in great pain. Presently, as I listened, there came a great yelp, and thereafter silence. After this I slept. About seven o'clock coffee was brought to us, and a little later we set out for the town.
We walked in, and did the short distance in less than twenty minutes. On arrival, we went at once to the headquarters of the police, where I made my first acquaintance with the interior of a cell. McQuade informed me that I would be taken before the Magistrate for a hearing at ten o'clock, and suggested that I had better employ counsel, but this I refused to do. I had made up my mind to tell the whole story as simply and exactly as I could and trust to the plain, unvarnished truth to see me out of my difficulties. I asked the detective upon our arrival if he had received any word regarding Miss Temple, and he told me that she would arrive during the forenoon. Major Temple and the servants were to come into the town a little later, in time for the hearing, at which they would be wanted as witnesses. I secured a morning paper and resigned myself to a tedious wait of somewhat over two hours. I was strangely calm and self-possessed. The ordeal through which I was about to pass seemed to give me but slight concern. But for Miss Temple I feared greatly.
CHAPTER X
MISS TEMPLE'S TESTIMONY
The police court at Exeter was situated in an old building, and the Magistrate's room was small and cold. When I was led forth and placed in the dock, I felt at first confused and gazed at the crowded benches before me with a dull sense of annoyance. Presently I made out the troubled, white face of Major Temple, sitting near the rear of the room, and behind him Gibson and two of the other servants. The remainder of the persons in the room were strangers to me, drawn thither, no doubt, by the merest curiosity. I looked up at the Magistrate and found him to be a little, red-faced man, with a stern, but not unkind, face—a man, evidently, who had seen so much of human guilt and suffering that the edge of his sympathies had been worn off and replaced with a patient cynicism. The usual questions as to my name, age, residence and occupation were asked, and then the real business of the hearing began. The finding of the coroner's inquest was first read, and then Major Temple was placed upon the witness stand. The old gentleman looked more shrunken and old than ever. His face was yellow, his eyes hollow and heavy from want of sleep, his hands trembling with excitement. I could well understand his agitation. His daughter, even now under arrest, was hurrying to Exeter to undergo that most terrible of all ordeals, a hearing on a charge of murder. Whether or not her story would end in a confession, no one knew; that she had something of the greatest import to tell, her letter indicated. All these thoughts must have crowded through her poor father's mind as he took his seat and made oath to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. The Magistrate began his examination with characteristic incisiveness.
"Major Temple," he said, "you are here as a witness in the case of Mr. Owen Morgan, charged with complicity in the murder of Robert Ashton."
The Major bowed, but remained silent.
"When did you first meet Mr. Morgan?"
"The night he first came to my house, five days ago."