[BLAKE'S EVIDENCE.]
When Blake stood up and tendered his testimony, a murmur of ugly import ran through the room. In all there were not more than fifty people present, but the fifty were typical of the general public, and already feeling ran high against Blake.
He looked around contemptuously, defiantly. At one moment it seemed as though he was about to laugh outright. The public can endure anything better than derision. The murmur grew to a groan. Silence was called in a tyrannical tone. The coroner pushed his spectacles up on his forehead, and regarded Blake steadfastly for a few seconds.
A square-built man, of medium height, stood before the judge. His hair was short, crisp, grizzled. He wore his hat jauntily in front of his waistcoat, and had an eye-glass fixed in his left eye. In the hand which held his hat he carried a stout oak stick. His hat was a soft felt one; his clothes light, coarse tweed, of pepper-and-salt colour. His brow was firm, low, and handsome; his complexion florid, the colour of his eyes bright blue. He wore no hair on his face but heavy, grizzled moustachios. His boots were patent leather. He was ungloved.
The coroner, an old and venerable-looking man, viewed Blake with anything but favour.
"Do I understand you to say, sir, that you are the person who saw deceased last before his death?"
This was said in a grave, monitory-tone.
"So I believe," said Blake, lightly; "and as I am most anxious to tell all I know, I should like to be examined before the adjournment."
"I had determined to take no more evidence to-day than would warrant me in adjourning until a post-mortem examination could be made."
"Well, if you examine me, it may save the police trouble."