The Coroner: “Can you think of any explanation now?”
Witness: “Absolutely none.”
The Coroner: “There had been no quarrel?”
Witness: “No.”
The Coroner: “So far as you knew, on the Wednesday evening, you were still engaged to deceased with every prospect of being married to him shortly?”
Witness: “Ye-es. Yes, certainly, of course.”
The Coroner: “He was not—forgive me this very painful question—the sort of man who would have been likely to lay violent hands on himself?”
Witness: “Oh, I never thought—well, I don’t know—I suppose he might have done. That would explain it, wouldn’t it?”
The Coroner: “Now, Lady Mary—please don’t distress yourself, take your own time—will you tell us exactly what you heard and saw on Wednesday night and Thursday morning?”
Witness: “I went up to bed with Mrs. Marchbanks and Mrs. Pettigrew-Robinson at about half-past nine, leaving all the men downstairs. I said good night to Denis, who seemed quite as usual. I was not downstairs when the post came. I went to my room at once. My room is at the back of the house. I heard Mr. Pettigrew-Robinson come up at about ten. The Pettigrew-Robinsons sleep next door to me. Some of the other men came up with him. I did not hear my brother come upstairs. At about a quarter past ten I heard two men talking loudly in the passage, and then I heard someone run downstairs and bang the front door. Afterwards I heard rapid steps in the passage, and finally I heard my brother shut his door. Then I went to bed.”
The Coroner: “You did not inquire the cause of the disturbance?”
Witness (indifferently): “I thought it was probably something about the dogs.”
The Coroner: “What happened next?”
Witness: “I woke up at three o’clock.”
The Coroner: “What wakened you?”
Witness: “I heard a shot.”
The Coroner: “You were not awake before you heard it?”
Witness: “I may have been partly awake. I heard it very distinctly. I was sure it was a shot. I listened for a few minutes, and then went down to see if anything was wrong.”
The Coroner: “Why did you not call your brother or some other gentleman?”
Witness (scornfully): “Why should I? I thought it was probably only poachers, and I didn’t want to make an unnecessary fuss at that unearthly hour.”
The Coroner: “Did the shot sound close to the house?”
Witness: “Fairly, I think—it is hard to tell when one is wakened by a noise—it always sounds so extra loud.”
The Coroner: “It did not seem to be in the house or in the conservatory?”
Witness: “No it was outside.”
The Coroner: “So you went downstairs by yourself. That was very plucky of you, Lady Mary. Did you go immediately?”
Witness: “Not quite immediately. I thought it over for a few minutes; then I put on walking-shoes over bare feet, a heavy covert-coat, and a woolly cap. It may have been five minutes after hearing the shot that I left my bedroom. I went downstairs and through the billiard room to the conservatory.”
The Coroner: “Why did you go out that way?”
Witness: “Because it was quicker than unbolting either the front door or the back door.”
At this point a plan of Riddlesdale Lodge was handed to the jury. It is a roomy, two-storied house, built in a plain style, and leased by the present owner, Mr. Walter Montague, to the Duke of Denver for the season, Mr. Montague being in the States.
Witness (resuming): “When I got to the conservatory door I saw a man outside, bending over something on the ground. When he looked up I was astonished to see my brother.”
The Coroner: “Before you saw who it was, what did you expect?”
Witness: “I hardly know—it all happened so quickly. I thought it was burglars, I think.”
The Coroner: “His grace has told us that when you saw him you cried out, ‘O God! you’ve killed him!’ Can you tell us why you did that?”
Witness (very pale): “I thought my brother must have come upon the burglar and fired at him in self-defense—that is, if I thought at all.”
The Coroner: “Quite so. You knew that the Duke possessed a revolver?”
Witness: “Oh, yes—I think so.”
The Coroner: “What did you do next?”
Witness: “My brother sent me up to get help. I knocked up Mr. Arbuthnot and Mr. and Mrs. Pettigrew-Robinson. Then I suddenly felt very faint, and went back to my bedroom and took some sal volatile.”
The Coroner: “Alone?”
Witness: “Yes, everybody was running about and calling out. I couldn’t bear it—I—”
Here the witness, who up till this moment had given her evidence very collectedly, though in a low voice, collapsed suddenly, and had to be assisted from the room.
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—always found him all right—no, he didn’t like Cathcart, but he was all right, you know, nothing wrong about him
