I avail myself of the newspaper-reports, together with Mr. Merrivale's notes, for an account of the inquest; and I have also used his observations made on the personal appearance, manner, etc, of the witnesses and others who took part in it. For myself, I remained in that dark dingy back-room until my turn came to give evidence.

I heard the dull tramp of the jury-men as they went up-stairs and entered the room overhead to view the body, and their hushed murmurs as they came down. I heard the hum of voices in the front drawing-room, where the witnesses were assembled, and the distinct orders issued at intervals by the police. I remember standing at the window looking into the dismal back-garden, noting mechanically the various small sights in the back-gardens opposite. I remember staring for a quarter of an hour at two cats fighting on the wall--a black and a tabby; and listening to their dismal squalls. If they had been two tigers tearing each other to pieces on that back garden-wall in the midst of this eminently civilized city, I don't think it would have made more impression on my brain than did those two specimens of the feline race. And last, I remember walking, as in a dream, into the dining-room, where sat the coroner at the head of the long table, and ranged on either side of him the twelve jury-men. I remember seeing a man whom I recognized as one of the deceased's solicitors, Mr. Walker, occupying a chair at a small side-table with his clerk, and on the opposite side of the room at another table sat Merrivale: while just behind him, guarded--ay, guarded--by a policeman, sat Hugh Atherton; and that as I came and took a chair placed for me at the other end of the long table, he raised his eyes and looked full upon me, and that I knew then the deadly influence which had been at work--for it was no longer the friendly, trustful look of old; I knew--yes, I knew that our warm friendship had died the death, that a traitor's hand had helped to slay it. I knew, and knowing it the pain was so intense, so like a knife entering my heart, that unconsciously I raised my hand as though to ward off the agony that had come upon me, and a cry escaped my lips--"Hugh, Hugh!" And then I heard the coroner addressing me in the calm business tones of a man accustomed to do his terrible work.

The first witness called was Mr. Evans, surgeon. He said:

"I am a member of the Royal College of Surgeons, and live at 138 Wimpole street. I was summoned to Mr. Thorneley's house about seven o'clock on the morning of the 24th; and was taken up into deceased's room. He was in bed, lying on his back, the eyes partially open, and the forehead and mouth contracted, as though great pain had preceded death. He had apparently been dead some hours. There was a stiffness, however, about the body, and an unusual rigidity of the limbs, which excited my suspicion. The feet were likewise arched. The housekeeper and the man-servant were in the room with the deceased at the time I arrived. I asked what he had taken last before going to bed. The housekeeper replied he had taken his bitter [{602}] ale as usual about nine o'clock. I asked to see the bottle out of which he had taken the ale. The housekeeper bade the man go down to his master's study and fetch up the tray. On it were a pint-bottle of Bass's bitter ale, a tumbler, and a plate of hard biscuit. There were a few drops at the bottom of the glass. I smelt and tasted them; there was no peculiar smell, but the taste was unusually bitter. It suggested to me that strychnine might have been introduced. In the bottle about half a tumblerful of ale was left. I took possession of it for the purpose of analysis, with the tumbler still containing a few drops. I said to the housekeeper: 'Information must be sent at once to the police.' This was done. I remained until the superintendent arrived, and then proceeded to my house with the ale-bottle and glass. I immediately subjected the contents of both to the usual process. In the few drops contained in the glass I discovered the appearance of strychnine. The contents of the bottle were perfectly free." (Sensation.) "I then went back to Mr. Thorneley's house, and reported the results to the police-officer, who communicated with Scotland Yard, the deceased's relative Mr. Wilmot, and his lawyers. I demanded that the family medical man should be summoned. On his arrival we made a post-mortem examination, and removed the stomach with its contents, sealed and despatched them to Professor T---- for analysis. We both refused a death-certificate until the results of that analysis had been ascertained. We agreed ourselves in suspecting death had originated through poison, and that the poison had been strychnine. There was no appearance of any disease in either heart, lungs, or brain, which should cause sudden death. All three organs were in a perfectly healthy state."

Dr. Robinson, physician, and the usual medical attendant of deceased, corroborated the above evidence in every particular.

Professor T---- next deposed that he received the stomach of deceased with its contents from Dr. Robinson and Mr. Evans. That he had analyzed the latter, and had detected and separated strychnine in very minute quantities; on further test, positive proof of the existence of the poison was afforded by the colors produced. Upon introducing some of the suspected matter into the body of a frog, death had been produced from tetanic convulsions; thus demonstrating the existence of strychnine. His opinion was that deceased had died from the effects of strychnine administered in bitter ale; that the quantity administered had been about one grain, not more--it might be less.

Mrs. Haag, the housekeeper, was then examined. She was a woman past fifty in appearance; her face was remarkable; so perfectly immobile and passionless in its expression. Her hair, eyebrows, and eyelashes were of a pale sandy color; and her drooping eyelids had that peculiar motion in them which novelists call "shivering." She gave her answers in clear low tones; but seldom raising her eyes to the interrogator; they were of a cold bluish-gray, with a dangerous scintillating light in them. Her manners and appearance were those of a woman above her station in life; her language quite grammatical, though tinctured by a slightly foreign idiom and accent; her deportment perfectly self-possessed. She deposed that the deceased had appeared in the same health as usual up to the evening previous to his death, when on taking in his bitter ale and biscuits she observed that he looked very much flushed and agitated, and his voice had sounded loud and angry as she came up the stairs. He and Mr. Atherton seemed to be having a dispute; and as she came into the room she distinctly heard Mr. Atherton say to her master, "You will bitterly repent to-morrow what you have said to-night." She could swear to the words, for they made an [{603}] impression upon her. Had not heard Mr. Wilmot speak whilst in the study. The ale had been brought up from the cellar by Barker, who uncorked it down-stairs, as usual, in presence of the other servants. Barker had accompanied her to the study-door, and opened it for her. Always took in the ale when her master was alone, or when only the young gentlemen (Wilmot and Atherton) were there; and waited to receive his orders for the next day. Deceased always took bitter ale at nine o'clock, with hard biscuits.

Mr. Merrivale: "Did you not pour some ale out into the tumbler before taking it up-stairs?"

"I did not."

"Would you swear you did not?"