style="font-size:15px;"> Duke of D.: "I should think I was-oh, yes, quite!"
The Coroner: "More than a quarter of a mile away?"
Duke of D.: "Possibly. I walked about briskly because it was cold."
The Coroner: "In which direction?"
Duke of D. (with visible hesitation): "Round at the back of the house. Towards the bowling-green."
The Coroner: "The bowling-green?"
Duke of D. (more confidently): "Yes."
The Coroner: "But if you were more than a quarter of a mile away, you must have left the grounds?"
Duke of D.: "I-oh, yes-I think I did. Yes, I walked about on the moor a bit, you know."
The Coroner: "Can you show us the letter you had from Mr. Freeborn?"
Duke of D.: "Oh, certainly-if I can find it. I thought I put it in my pocket, but I couldn't find it for that Scotland Yard fellow."
The Coroner: "Can you have accidentally destroyed it?"
Duke of D.: "No-I'm sure I remember putting it- Oh"-here the witness paused in very patent confusion, and grew red-"I remember now. I destroyed it."
The Coroner: "That is unfortunate. How was that?"
Duke of D.: "I had forgotten; it has come back to me now. I'm afraid it has gone for good."
The Coroner: "Perhaps you kept the envelope?"
Witness shook his head.
The Coroner: "Then you can show the jury no proof of having received it?"
Duke of D.: "Not unless Fleming remembers it."
The Coroner: "Ah, yes! No doubt we can check it that way. Thank you, your grace. Call Lady Mary Wimsey."
The noble lady, who was, until the tragic morning of October 14th, the fiancée of the deceased, aroused a murmur of sympathy on her appearance. Fair and slender, her naturally rose-pink cheeks ashy pale, she seemed overwhelmed with grief. She was dressed entirely in black, and gave her evidence in a very low tone which was at times almost inaudible.
After expressing his sympathy, the Coroner asked, "How long had you been engaged to the deceased?"
Witness: "About eight months."
The Coroner: "Where did you first meet him?"
Witness: "At my sister-in-law's house in London.''
The Coroner: "When was that?"
Witness: "I think it was June last year."
1 From the newspaper report-not Mr. Parker.
The Coroner: "You were quite happy in your engagement?"
Witness: "Quite."
The Coroner: "You naturally saw a good deal of Captain Cathcart. Did he tell you much about his previous life?"
Witness: "Not very much. We were not given to mutual confidences. We usually discussed subjects of common interest."
The Coroner: "You had many such subjects?"
Witness: "Oh, yes."
The Coroner: "You never gathered at any time that Captain Cathcart had anything on his mind?"
Witness: "Not particularly. He had seemed a little anxious the last few days."
The Coroner: "Did he speak of his life in Paris?"
Witness: "He spoke of theatres and amusements there. He knew Paris very well. I was staying in Paris with some friends last February, when he was there, and he took us about. That was shortly after our engagement."
The Coroner: "Did he ever speak of playing cards in Paris?"
Witness: "I don't remember."
The Coroner: "With regard to your marriage-had any money settlements been gone into?"
Witness: "I don't think so. The date of the marriage was not in any way fixed."
The Coroner: "He always appeared to have plenty of money?"
Witness: "I suppose so; I didn't think about it."
The Coroner: "You never heard him complain of being hard up?"
Witness: "Everybody complains of that, don't they?"
The Coroner: "Was he a man of cheerful disposition?"
Witness: "He was very moody, never the same two days together."
The Coroner: "You have heard what your brother said. Did you hear someone run downstairs and bang the front door.
[Some garbled text removed here]
The next witness called was James Fleming, the manservant.
He remembered having brought the letters from Riddlesdale at 9.45 on Wednesday evening. He had taken three or four letters to the Duke in the gunroom.
He could not remember at all whether one of them had had an Egyptian stamp. He did not collect stamps; his hobby was autographs.
The Hon. Frederick Arbuthnot then gave evidence.
He had gone up to bed with the rest at a little before ten. He had heard Denver come up by himself some time later-couldn't say how much later-he was brushing his teeth at the time. (Laughter.) Had certainly heard loud voices and a row going on next door and in the passage. Had heard somebody go for the stairs hell-for-leather. Had stuck his head out and seen Denver in the passage. Had said, "Hello, Denver, what's the row?" The Duke's reply had been inaudible.
Denver had bolted into his bedroom and shouted out of the window, "Don't be an ass, man!"
He had seemed very angry indeed, but the Hon. Freddy attached no importance to that. One was always getting across Denver, but it never came to anything. More dust than kick in his opinion. Hadn't known Cathcart long-I always found him all right-no, he didn't like Cathcart, but he was all right, you know, nothing wrong about him that he knew of. Good lord, no, he'd never heard it suggested he cheated at cards! Well, no, of course, he didn't go about looking out for people cheating at cards-it wasn't a thing one expected. He'd been had that way in a club at Monte once-he'd had no hand in bringing it to light-hadn't noticed anything till the fun began. Had not noticed anything particular in Cathcart's manner to Lady Mary, or hers to him. Didn't suppose he ever would notice anything; did not consider himself an observing sort of man. Was not interfering by nature; had thought Wednesday evening's dustup none of his business. Had gone to bed and to sleep.
The Coroner: "Did you hear anything further that night?"
Hon. Frederick: "Not till poor little Mary knocked me up. Then I toddled down and found Denver in the conservatory, bathing Cathcart's head. We thought we ought to clean the gravel and mud off his face, you know."
The Coroner: "You heard no shot?"
Hon. Frederick: "Not a sound. But I sleep pretty heavily."
