“Alone?”
“Alone.” Lane faced them all, head up and shoulders back, and gave no sign that he was aware of the antagonism which he felt in the tense atmosphere. The coroner was the next to speak.
“Suppose you take a chair, Captain Lane, and give us a more detailed account of your actions last night,” he suggested, and Lane dragged forward a chair and seated himself. “When did you leave this house?”
“About half-past ten o’clock.” He caught Eleanor’s start of surprise, and added hastily, “I am, as perhaps you already know, engaged to Miss Carew. During our interview last night she fainted, and I summoned Miss Thornton, who urged me to go, but I felt that I could not leave the house until I knew that Miss Carew was better. So, instead of going out of the front door, I picked up my coat and hat and slipped into the dining room, which was empty.”
“What was your object in going there?”
“I hoped that Miss Thornton would come downstairs again, and I could then get an opportunity to speak to her.”
“Would it not have been better and more straight-forward to have stepped into the library and informed Colonel Thornton of your presence in his house?” asked the coroner, dryly.
Lane flushed at his tone. “Possibly it would,”—haughtily,—“but I was acting on impulse; I was extremely alarmed by Miss Carew’s condition and could think of nothing else.”
“What caused Miss Carew’s indisposition?” inquired the coroner.