"Found him!" exclaimed Blount, surprised out of his invariably soft, quiet tones.
"Yes,—there he lies."
Blount's business had accustomed him to surprises, but he could hardly realize that before him lay a man for whom Martin had offered a thousand pounds.
"Are you sure?" he asked.
"Positive. Nothing was found upon him or in the room, I presume."
"No, sir—that is, nothing of any account."
"I thought not," commented Martin.
Something in the tone had struck Blount, but before he could speak the inquest had begun. They had moved outside during the conversation, but now entered the room where the inquest was being held. It was all over in a few minutes, and a verdict of "suicide" rendered.
When the verdict was announced Blount, whose eyes had been roving over the crowd in a professional way, caught sight of a face which he recognized instantly, and he noticed with considerable surprise the look of contempt with which the owner of the face received the verdict.
"Well, well, Mr. Jaggers! And what do we know about this?" and thus communing with himself, Blount slipped out before the crowd and waited at the entrance. To Martin, who followed him, he said: