o, I cannot say I murdered Dacre Wynne. Though I would say that or
anything to save Nigel. But I didn't discover that this little revolver
of mine had ever been fired until yesterday, when I happened to go to my
secretaire for a letter which I had locked away in that particular
drawer. Then I took it up and chanced to examine it--I don't know why.
Perhaps because it was the same as Nigel's, I--" she choked suddenly, and
bit at her lips for control. "Is there not a loophole _here_, sir, by
which Sir Nigel might be saved? Surely it must be traced who used this
revolver, who fired the shot from it?"

Her voice had risen to a piteous note that brought the tears to many eyes
in that crowded room. The coroner coughed. Then he glanced enquiringly
over at Brellier, who had risen from his seat.

"You have something to say about this, Mr. Brellier?"

Brellier made a clicking sound with his tongue.

"I'm afraid my niece has been wasting your time, sir," he said quietly,
"because I happen to have used that little instrument myself five months
ago. We had a dog who was hurt--you remember Franco, 'Toinette? And if
you carry your mind back you will also recollect that he had eventually
to be shot, and that I was forced to perform that unpleasant operation
myself. He was dear to me, that dog; he was--how do you call it?--a true
'pal'. It hurt me to do this thing, but I did it. And with that revolver
also. It was light. 'Toinette must have forgotten that I mentioned the
matter to her.

"I am afraid this can have no bearing upon the case--though the dear God
knows that I would do all I could to bring this terrible thing to an end,
if it lay in my power. That's is all, I think."

He bowed, and sat down again, beckoning his niece back to her seat with
a little frown. She cast a piteous look up into the coroner's face.

"I'm sorry," she said brokenly; "I had forgotten about that. Of course,
it is true, as my uncle said. But I was so anxious--so anxious! And there
seemed just a chance. You understand?"

"I do, Miss Brellier. And I am sorry that the evidence in this case is
of no use to us. Constable, take the prisoner away to await higher
justice. I must say that I think no other verdict upon the evidence
brought forward could possibly be passed upon the prisoner than I have
passed to-day. I'm sorry, Sir Nigel, but--one must do one's duty, you
know.... We'll be getting back to the office, Mr. Murkford." He beckoned
to his clerk, who