THERE was a stir of excitement in the press seats as Simon Templar walked up on to the platform and took the oath. Even if the party from Whiteways had failed to recognize his name, there was no such obtuseness among the reporters. The Saint had provided them with too many good stories in the past for them to forget him, and their air of professional boredom gave way to a sudden and unexpected alertness. A subdued hum of speculation swept over them and spread to one or two other parts of the room where the name had also revived recollections. The black-bearded little juryman sat forward and stared.
While Simon was taking the oath, he noticed that the coroner was poring intently over a scrap of paper which had somehow come into his hands. When he raised his eyes from it, they came to rest on the Saint with a new wariness. He folded the note and tucked it away in his breast pocket without shifting his gaze; and his manner became very brisk again.
'I understand, Mr Templar, that you arrived on the scene of the fire some time after it had started.'
'I have no idea,' said the Saint carefully. 'I only saw it a very short time before I got there. And I was there in time to hear Lady Valerie say that Kennet was missing.'
The coroner rubbed his chin. He seemed to be weighing his words with particular circumspection.
'Then you went into the house to try to get him out.'
'Yes.'
'In what condition was the house when you entered it? I mean, how far had the fire progressed?'
'The whole place was blazing,' Simon answered. 'It was worst in the part which I now gather was called the west wing. There was fire in the hall, and the stairs had begun to burn. Part of the passage I had to go down to reach Kennet's room was also alight.'
'I take it that with all that fire there would be a great deal of smoke and fumes.'
'There was quite a bit.'
'I understand that you were quite—er—groggy when you came out.'
'Only for a moment. It passed off very quickly.'
'But I take it that if you had stayed in the house any longer than you did, you would inevitably have been overcome by the smoke and fumes and lost consciousness.'
'I suppose so, eventually.'
'To look at you, Mr Templar, one would certainly get the impression that your physical condition was exceptionally good.'
'I've always got around all right.'
There was a pause. The coroner turned to the jury.
'Mr Templar modestly tells us that he gets around all right,' he stated. 'You can see for yourselves that he has the build and bearing of an unusually strong and athletic man. You will therefore agree that his powers of resistance to such things as smoke and fumes are probably higher than the average, and certainly immeasurably greater than those of a slightly built sedentary type such as the late Mr Kennet, whose constitution, I am told, was always somewhat
