He raised neither his hat nor his hand, as the coroner glanced at him; but returned the latter’s gaze with so steady a look, that no words of remonstrance for the interruption came forth. That he was a person of weight and authority required no announcement. The coroner’s expression softened; and in the way cleared for him by the wondering crowd, he pushed forward.
“I am Tamworth, of Gray’s Inn,” he said, in lower voice, “and appear as a friend of the court.”
He was standing beside the table, as these words were spoken; and the obsequious Dodsman arose from his chair, and waved his hand for him to be seated beside the coroner, who could not refrain from bowing as graciously as he knew how.
“As the proceeding is in behalf of the Crown,” continued the lawyer, before taking the proffered chair, “it should be conducted in strict accordance with law.”
“Is it not being so conducted?” asked the coroner, in a voice which was soft and low with respect.
“Yes; except where the answers of the witness may tend to criminate her husband.”
“True,” returned the coroner, assuming an air of wisdom; then after a moment’s thought, he said: “But as we have not learned how many persons were present, and as the sword is evidently not the Count’s, I am certainly at liberty to exhaust that line of examination.”
“Undoubtedly,” returned Tamworth.
“How many persons were present when this deed occurred?” asked the coroner.
“Three,” said the witness.