full note of these proceedings," he observed suavely. "You at any rate are not biassed or prejudiced."
The coroner heard that in spite of his deafness, and he grew purple.
"Sir!" he exclaimed. "That is a most improper observation! It's a reflection on my position, sir, and I've a great mind———"
"Mr. Coroner," observed Petherton, leaning towards him, "I shall hand in a full report concerning your conduct of these proceedings to the Home Office tomorrow. If you attempt to interfere with my duty here, all the worse for you. Now, Spurge, you can stand down. And as I see Mr. Greyle there—call Marston Greyle!"
The Squire had appeared while Spurge was giving his evidence, and had heard what the poacher alleged. He entered the box very pale, angry, and disturbed, and the glances which he cast on Sir Cresswell Oliver and his party were distinctly those of displeasure.
"Swear him!" commanded Petherton. "Now, Mr. Greyle———"
But Greyle's own solicitor was on his legs, insisting on his right to put a first question. In spite of Petherton, he put it.
"You heard the evidence of the last witness?—Spurge. Is there a word of truth in it?"
Marston Greyle—who certainly looked very unwell—moistened his lips.
"Not one word!" he answered. "It's a lie!"
The solicitor glanced triumphantly at the Coroner
