“And that was the last time?” Charles nodded vigorously. “Well, I think that is all; much obliged, Charles,” and the butler, much gratified by the coroner’s manner, descended hastily from the platform and slipped from the room.
The next witnesses, heard in rapid succession, were the Ogdens’ other servants; each corroborated Charles’ statement that they were either in the pantry or in the kitchen, and had not realized the house was on fire until Charles had called to them; they also stated that the smell of scorched cream on the kitchen range had probably concealed any smell of burning which might have drifted into the basement. As the last servant left the witness chair, the coroner called to the Morgue Master.
“Ask Miss Ethel Ogden to step here,” he directed, and Lois McLane looked eagerly toward the door as it opened and Ethel walked in. The coroner met her at the foot of the platform and assisted her to the witness chair.
In spite of her white face and wildly beating heart, Ethel was outwardly composed, and her clear voice could be heard at the far end of the room as she took the oath and answered the preliminary questions put to her by the coroner.
“Can you tell me, Miss Ogden,” began Penfield, after a brief silence, “who among the guests at the dinner last night first called ‘Fire’?”
Ethel shook her head. “The voice seemed to come from the direction of the drawing room.”
“Could you recognize it?”
“N-no; it was too hoarse, too discordant to be recognizable.”
“Who sat nearest the drawing room entrance?”
Ethel considered a moment. “I believe Mrs. Leonard McLane and Mr. Julian Barclay sat directly in front of the drawing room doors, but a huge centerpiece of flowers prevented my seeing that part of the table.”