pains, not only to clean it, but to reload it, and lock it up again in the drawer from which he had taken it."
She did not reply to this; but I saw Mr. Gryce make a note of it with that peculiar emphatic nod of his.
"Nor," he went on, even more gravely, "would it be possible for any one who was not accustomed to pass in and out of Mr. Leavenworth’s room at all hours, to enter his door so late at night, procure this pistol from its place of concealment, traverse his apartment, and advance as closely upon him as the facts show to have been necessary, without causing him at least to turn his head to one side; which, in consideration of the doctor’s testimony, we cannot believe he did."
It was a frightful suggestion, and we looked to see Eleanore Leavenworth recoil. But that expression of outraged feeling was left for her cousin to exhibit. Starting indignantly from her seat, Mary cast one hurried glance around her, and opened her lips to speak; but Eleanore, slightly turning, motioned her to have patience, and replied in a cold and calculating voice: "You are not sure, sir, that this was done. If my uncle, for some purpose of his own, had fired the pistol off yesterday, let us say—which is surely possible, if not probable—the like results would be observed, and the same conclusions drawn."
"Miss Leavenworth," the coroner went on, "the ball has been extracted from your uncle’s head!"
"Ah!"
"It corresponds with those in the cartridges found in his stand drawer, and is of the number used with this pistol."
Her head fell forward on her hands; her eyes sought the floor; her whole attitude expressed disheartenment. Seeing it, the coroner grew still more grave.
