A woman’s low, despairing cry broke the silence, and as I turned to the assembly I saw, straight before me, Ella, rigid, almost statuesque. Her terror-stricken gaze met mine; her eyes seemed riveted upon me.
“Kindly proceed with your evidence,” exclaimed the Coroner, impatiently.
“We dined at ‘The Nook,’” I went on, turning again to face him. “Then we went for a row, and on our return Mr Ogle left us to walk back to Shepperton.”
“Alone?”
“Yes.”
“Why did you not accompany him?”
“Because I had, during the evening, received a telegram summoning me away.”
“Who was the message from?”
“The Earl of Warnham,” I replied. Then obeying his request to continue, I explained how, on leaving “The Nook” about an hour later to catch my last train, I had stumbled upon the body of my friend.
Then, when I had concluded, the Coroner commenced his cross-examination. Many of his questions were purely formal in character, but presently, when he began to take me through the events which occurred at the Foreign Office, I experienced a very uncomfortable feeling, fearing lest I should divulge the suspicions that had during the last half-hour been aroused within me. It was, I recognised, absolutely necessary that I should keep my discovery a strict secret, for upon my ability to do so everything depended.