"I will address myself to the jury," he began.
"You will do nothing of the sort," broke in the coroner. "Now, please attend to me. You assert in your letter that you know who is the—the"
"The Avenger," put in Mr. Cannot promptly.
"The perpetrator of these crimes. You further declare that you met him on the very night he committed the murder we are now investigating?"
"I do so declare," said Mr. Cannot confidently. "Though in the best of health myself,"—he beamed round the court, a now amused, attentive court—"it is my fate to be surrounded by sick people, to have only ailing friends. I have to trouble you with my private affairs, Mr. Coroner, in order to explain why I happened to be out at so undue an hour as one o’clock in the morning"
Again a titter ran through the court. Even the jury broke into broad smiles.
"Yes," went on the witness solemnly, "I was with a sick friend—in fact, I may say a dying friend, for since then he has passed away. I will not reveal my exact dwelling-place; you, sir, have it on my notepaper. It is not necessary to reveal it, but you will understand me when I say that in order to come home I had to pass through a portion of the Regent’s Park; and it was there—to be exact, about the middle of Prince’s Terrace—when a very peculiar-looking individual stopped and accosted me."
Mrs. Bunting’s hand shot up to her breast. A feeling of deadly fear took possession of her.
"I mustn’t faint," she said to herself hurriedly. "I
