Mr. Rook having completed his evidence, the police authoritieswere the next witnesses examined.

They had not found the slightest trace of any attempt to breakinto the house in the night. The murdered man's gold watch andchain were discovered under his pillow. On examining his clothesthe money was found in his purse, and the gold studs and sleevebuttons were left in his shirt. But his pocketbook (seen bywitnesses who had not yet been examined) was missing. The searchfor visiting cards and letters had proved to be fruitless. Onlythe initials, "J. B.," were marked on his linen. He had broughtno luggage with him to the inn. Nothing could be found which ledto the discovery of his name or of the purpose which had takenhim into that part of the country.

The police examined the outhouse next, in search ofcircumstantial evidence against the missing man.

He must have carried away his knapsack, when he took to flight,but he had been (probably) in too great a hurry to look for hisrazor--or perhaps too terrified to touch it, if it had attractedhis notice. The leather roll, and the other articles used for histoilet, had been taken away. Mr. Rook identified theblood-stained razor. He had noticed overnight the name of theBelgian city, "Liege," engraved on it.

The yard was the next place inspected. Foot-steps were found onthe muddy earth up to the wall. But the road on the other sidehad been recently mended with stones, and the trace of thefugitive was lost. Casts had been taken of the footsteps; and noother means of discovery had been left untried. The authoritiesin London had also been communicated with by telegraph.

The doctor being called, described a personal peculiarity, whichhe had noticed at the post-mortem examination, and which mightlead to the identification of the murdered man.

As to the cause of death, the witness said it could be stated intwo words. The internal jugular vein had been cut through, withsuch violence, judging by the appearances, that the wound couldnot have been inflicted, in the act of suicide, by the hand ofthe deceased person. No other injuries, and no sign of disease,was found on the body. The one cause of death had beenHemorrhage; and the one peculiarity which called for notice hadbeen discovered in the mouth. Two of the front teeth, in theupper jaw, were false. They had been so admirably made toresemble the natural teeth on either side of them, in form andcolor, that the witness had only hit on the discovery byaccidentally touching the inner side of the gum with one of hisfingers.

The landlady was examined, when the doctor had retired. Mrs. Rookwas able, in answering questions put to her, to give importantinformation, in reference to the missing pocketbook.

Before retiring to rest, the two gentlemen had paid thebill--intending to leave the inn the first thing in the morning.The traveler with the knapsack paid his share in money. The otherunfortunate gentleman looked into his purse, and found only ashilling and a sixpence in it. He asked Mrs. Rook if she couldchange a bank-note. She told him it could be done, provided thenote was for no considerable sum of money. Upon that he openedhis pocketbook (which the witness described minutely) and turnedout the contents on the table. After searching among many Bank ofEngland notes, some in one pocket of the book and some inanother, he found a note of the value of five pounds. Hethereupon settled his bill, and received the change from Mrs.Rook--her husband being in another part of the room, attending tothe guests. She noticed a letter in an envelope, and a few cardswhich looked (to her judgment) like visiting cards, among thebank-notes which he had turned out on the table. When shereturned to him with the change, he had just put them back, andwas closing the pocketbook. She saw him place it in one of thebreast pockets of his coat.

The fellow-traveler who had accompanied him to the inn waspresent all the time, sitting on the opposite side of the table.He made a remark when he saw the notes produced. He said, "Putall that money back--don't tempt a poor man like me!" It was saidlaughing, as if by way of a joke.

Mrs. Rook had observed nothing more that night; had slept assoundly as usual; and had been awakened when her husband knockedat the outhouse door, according to instructions received from thegentlemen, overnight.

Three of the guests in the public room corroborated Mrs. Rook'sevidence. They were respectable persons, well and widely known inthat part of Hampshire. Besides these, there were two strangersstaying in the house. They referred the coroner to theiremployers--eminent manufacturers at Sheffield andWolverhampton--whose testimony spoke for itself.

The last witness called was a grocer in the village, who kept thepost-office.

On the evening of the 30th, a dark gentleman, wearing his beard,knocked at the door, and asked for a letter addressed to "J. B.,Post-office, Zeeland." The letter had arrived by that morning'spost; but, being Sunday evening, the grocer requested thatapplication might be made for it the next morning. The strangersaid the letter contained news, which it was of importance to himto receive without delay. Upon this, the grocer made an exceptionto customary rules and gave him the letter. He read it by thelight of the lamp in the passage. It must have been short, forthe reading was done in a moment. He seemed to think over it fora while; and then he turned round to go out. There was nothing tonotice in his look or in his manner. The witness offered a remarkon the weather; and the gentleman said, "Yes, it looks like a badnight"--and so went away.

The postmaster's evidence was of importance in one respect: itsuggested the motive which had brought the deceased to Zeeland.The letter addressed to "J. B." was, in all probability, theletter seen by Mrs. Rook among the contents of the pocketbook,spread out on the table.

The inquiry being, so far, at an end, the inquest wasadjourned--on the chance of obtaining additional evidence, whenthe reported proceedings were read by the public.

. . . . . . . .

Consulting a later number of the newspaper Emily discovered thatthe deceased person had been identified by a witness from London.

Henry Forth, gentleman's valet, being examined, made thefollowing statement:

He had read the medical evidence contained in the report of theinquest; and, believing that he could identify the deceased, hadbeen sent by his present master to assist the object of theinquiry. Ten days since, being then out of place, he had answeredan advertisement. The next day, he was instructed to call atTracey's Hotel, London, at six o'clock in the evening, and to askfor Mr. James Brown. Arriving at the hotel he saw the gentlemanfor a few minutes only. Mr. Brown had a friend with him. Afterglancing over the valet's references, he said, "I haven't timeenough to speak to you this evening. Call here to-morrow morningat nine o'clock." The gentleman who was present laughed, andsaid, "You won't be up!" Mr. Brown answered, "That won't matter;the man can come to my bedroom, and let me see how he understandshis duties, on trial." At nine the next morning, Mr. Brown wasreported to be still in bed; and the witness was informed of thenumber of the room. He knocked at the door. A drowsy voice insidesaid something, which he interpreted as meaning "Come in." Hewent in. The toilet-table was on his left hand, and the bed (withthe lower curtain drawn) was on his right. He saw on the table atumbler with a little water in it, and with two false teeth inthe water. Mr. Brown started up in bed--looked at himfuriously--abused him for daring to enter the room--and shoutedto him to "get out." The witness, not accustomed to be treated inthat way, felt naturally indignant, and at once withdrew--but notbefore he had plainly seen the vacant place which the false teethhad been made to fill. Perhaps Mr. Brown had forgotten that hehad left his teeth on the table. Or perhaps he (the valet) hadmisunderstood what had been said to him when he knocked at thedoor. Either way, it seemed to be plain enough that the gentlemanresented the discovery of his false teeth by a stranger.

Having concluded his statement the witness proceeded to identifythe remains of the deceased.

He at once recognized the gentleman named James Brown, whom hehad twice seen--once in the evening, and again the nextmorning--at Tracey's Hotel. In answer to further inquiries, hedeclared that he knew nothing of the family, or of the place ofresidence, of the deceased. He complained to the proprietor ofthe hotel of the rude treatment that he had received, and askedif Mr. Tracey knew anything of Mr. James Brown. Mr. Tracey knewnothing of him. On consulting the hotel book it was found that hehad given notice to leave, that afternoon.

Before returning to London, the witness produced references whichgave him an excellent character. He also left the address of themaster who had engaged him three days since.

The last precaution adopted was to have the face of the corpsephotographed, before the coffin was closed. On the same day thejury agreed on their verdict: "Willful murder against some personunknown."

. . . . . . . .

Two days later, Emily found a last allusion to thecrime--extracted from the columns of the _South HampshireGazette_.

A relative of the deceased, seeing the report of the adjournedinquest, had appeared (accompanied by a medical gentleman); hadseen the photograph; and had declared the identification by HenryForth to be correct.

Among other particulars, now communicated for the first time, itwas stated that the late Mr. James Brown had been unreasonablysensitive on the subject of his false teeth, and that the onemember of his family who knew of his wearing them was therelative who now claimed his remains.

The claim having been established to the satisfaction of theauthorities, the corpse was removed by railroad the same day. Nofurther light had been thrown on the murder. The Handbilloffering the reward, and describing the suspected man, had failedto prove of any assistance to the investigations of the police.

From that date, no further notice of the crime committed at theHand-in-Hand inn appeared in the public journals.

. . . . . . . .

Emily closed the volume which she had been consulting, andthankfully acknowledged the services of the librarian.

The new reader had excited this gentleman's interest. Noticinghow carefully she examined the numbers of the old newspaper, helooked at her, from time to time, wondering whether it was goodnews or bad of which she was in search. She read steadily andcontinuously; but she never rewarded his curiosity by any outwardsign of the impression that had been produced on her. When sheleft the room there was nothing to remark in her manner; shelooked quietly thoughtful--and that was all.

The librarian smiled--amused by his own folly. Because astranger's appearance had attracted him, he had taken it forgranted that circumstances of romantic interest must be connectedwith her visit to the library. Far from misleading him, as hesupposed, his fancy might have been employed to better purpose,if it had taken a higher flight still--and had associated Emilywith the fateful gloom of tragedy, in place of the brighterinterest of romance.

There, among the ordinary readers of the day, was a dutiful andaffectionate daughter following the dreadful story of the deathof her father by murder, and believing it to be the story of astranger--because she loved and trusted the person whoseshort-sighted mercy had deceived her. That very discovery, thedread of which had shaken the good doctor's firm nerves, hadforced Alban to exclude from his confidence the woman whom heloved, and had driven the faithful old servant from the bedsideof her dying mistress--that very discovery Emily had now made,with a face which never changed color, and a heart which beat atease. Was the deception that had won this cruel victory overtruth destined still to triumph in the days which were to come?Yes--if the life of earth is a foretaste of the life of hell.No--if a lie _is_ a lie, be the merciful motive for the falsehoodwhat it may. No--if all deceit contains in it the seed ofretribution, to be ripened inexorably in the lapse of time.