“No, sir.”
“Did you assist Dr. Noyes and Mr. Wyndham in conducting Mr. Brainard to his bedroom after his attack of illness in the dining-room?”
“No, sir; he could walk with the assistance of the other gentlemen.”
There was silence as Coroner Black referred to his notebook, and his manner grew stern when he turned back to the witness.
“The butler, Selby, has testified you mentioned to the servants that you went to the assistance of Mr. Brainard when he was taken ill. Did you make such a statement?”
“I did, sir; and it is true—I assisted Mr. Brainard when he had his first attack, sir.”
“Ah, when was that?” and the coroner looked at him with quickened interest.
“Just after him and Miss Millicent had had words in the garden beyond,” indicating the windows and the portico. “I was in here arranging the liqueurs and cigars, sir, when I heard a scream through the partly open window, and I ran out and found Miss Millicent cowering against one of the big pillars and saying: ‘No, no!’ between her sobs.” He stopped abruptly. “I beg your pardon for talking so much.”
“Go on,” commanded Black. “Tell us everything.” The jurors and the deputy coroner were hanging on the footman’s words.
“Miss Millicent bolted by me into the house, and I was just turning to follow her when Mr. Brainard appeared out of the darkness—Miss Millicent had been standing where the light from the library fell on her,” he explained. “Mr. Brainard staggered toward me, and before I could reach him, he fell.” Murray cleared his throat and eyed each one of his expectant hearers; he enjoyed the sensation his testimony was producing.