that is, I suppose she must have done so —as she did so will it."
"But you did not know of it, and the reading of the will was to you a surprise?"
"Yes," declared Miss Morton, and though the coroner then dismissed her without comment on her statements, there were several present who did not believe the lady spoke veraciously.
Tom Willard was called next, and Fessenden wondered what could be the testimony of a man who had not arrived on the scene until more than two hours after the deed was done.
And indeed there was little that Tom could say. Mr. Benson asked him to detail his own movements after he left the house the night before.
"There's little to tell," said Tom, "but I'll try to be exact. I went away from this house about ten o'clock, taking with me a suit-case full of clothes. I went directly to the Mapleton Inn, and though I don't know exactly, I should say I must have reached there in something less than ten minutes. Then I went to the office of the establishment, registered, and asked for a room. The proprietor gave me a good enough room, a bellboy picked up my bag, and I went to my room at once."
"And remained there?"
"Yes; later I rang for some ice water, which the same boy brought to me. Directly after that I turned in. I slept soundly until awakened by a knocking at my door at about two o'clock in the morning."
"The message from this house?"
"Yes. The landlord himself stood there when I opened the door, and told me I was wanted on the telephone. When I went to the telephone I heard Miss Morton's voice, and she asked me to come over here. I came as quickly as possible, and—"
Tom's voice broke at this point, and, feeling that his story was finished, Mr. Benson considerately asked him no further questions.
Chapter XI.
“I Decline to Say”
Schuyler Carleton was questioned next, When Mr. Benson asked him to tell his story, he hesitated and finally said that he would prefer to have the coroner ask direct questions, which he would answer.
"Did you go away from this house with the other guests at about ten o'clock last evening?"
"No, I was not here at dinner. I left at about half-past five in the afternoon."
"Where did you go?"
"I went directly home and remained there until late in the evening."
"Mr. Fessenden was with you?"
"He was with us at dinner. He is staying at my house, as he was invited to be best man at the wedding."
Though this statement came calmly from Carleton's lips, it was evident to all that he fully appreciated the tragic picture it suggested.
"He was with you through the evening?"
"Part of the time. He went early to his room, saying he had some business to attend to."
"Why were you two not here to dinner with Miss Van Norman?"
Fessenden looked up, surprised at this question. Surely Mr. Benson had gathered odd bits of information since morning.
Schuyler Carleton looked stern.
"I did not come because I did not wish to. Mr. Fessenden remained with me, saying he did not care to attend the dinner unless I did."
Carleton looked casually at Fessenden as he said this, and though there was no question in the glance, Rob nodded his head in corroboration of the witness.
"You spent the entire evening at home, then?"
"Yes, until a late hour."
"And then?"
"I returned here between eleven and twelve o'clock."
"To make a call?"
"No, I came upon an errand."
"What was the errand?"
"As it has no bearing upon the case, I think it is my privilege to decline to answer."
"You entered the house with a latch-key."
"I did."
"Is that latch-key your own property?"
"For the time, yes. Mrs. Markham gave it to me a few days ago, for my convenience, because I have occasion to come to the house so frequently."
"Was it your intention when you went away in the afternoon to return later?"
"It was."
"Upon this secret errand?"
"Yes."
"Did you expect to see Miss Van Norman when you entered the house with the latch-key?"
"I did not."
"And when you entered you discovered the tragedy in the library?"
Schuyler Carleton hesitated. His dry lips quivered and his whole frame shook with intense emotion. "Y-yes," he stammered.
But the mere fact of that hesitation instantly kindled a spark of suspicion in the minds of some of his hearers. Until that moment Carleton's excessive agitation had been attributed entirely to his grief at the awful fate which had come to his fiancée; but now, all at once, the man's demeanor gave an impression of something else.
Could it be guilt?
Fessenden looked at his friend curiously. In his mind, however, no slightest suspicion was aroused, but he wondered what it was that Carleton was keeping back. Surely the man must know that to make any mystery about his call at the Van Norman mansion the night before, was to invite immediate and justifiable suspicion.
The court had instructed the district attorney to be present at the inquest, and though that unobtrusive gentleman had taken notes, and otherwise shown a quiet interest in the proceedings, he now awakened to a more alert manner, and leaned forward to get a better look at the white, set face of the witness.
Carleton looked like a marble image. His refined, patrician features seemed even handsomer for their haggard agony. Surely he was in no way responsible for the awful deed that had been done, and yet just as surely he was possessed of some awful secret fear which kept every nerve strained and tense.
Endeavoring not to exhibit the surprise and dismay which he felt, Coroner Benson continued his questions.
"And then, when you discovered Miss Van Norman, what did you do?"
Carleton passed his hand across his white brow. "I hardly know," he said. "I was stunned—dazed. I went toward her, and, seeing the dagger on the floor, I picked it up mechanically, scarcely knowing what I did. I felt intuitively that the
