uld be his reply?

A very quiet one.

"That night at the dinner-table. When I left the room, I turned to look
at her. She was not looking at me; so I slammed the door and went
upstairs. In an hour or so, I had left the house to get a drink. I got
the drink, but I never saw Adelaide again till I saw her in her coffin."

This blunt denial of the crime for which he stood there arraigned, fell
on my heart with a weight which showed me how inextinguishable is the
hope we cherish deep down under all surface convictions. I had been
unconscious of this hope, but it was there. It seemed to die a double
death at these words. For I believed him! Courage is needed for a lie.
There were no signs visible in him, as yet, of his having drawn upon this
last resource of the despairing. I should know it when he did; he could
not hide the subtle change from me.

To others, this declaration came with greater or less force, according as
it was viewed in the light of a dramatic trick of Mr. Moffat's, or as the
natural outburst of a man fighting for his life in his own way and with
his own weapons. I could not catch the eye of Ella cowering low in her
seat, so could not judge what tender chords had been struck in her
sensitive breast by these two assertions so dramatically offset against
each other--the one, his antagonism to the dead; the other, his freedom
from the crime in which that antagonism was supposed to have culminated.

Mr. Moffat, satisfied so far, put his next question with equal
directness:

"Mr. Cumberland, you have mentioned seeing your sister in her coffin.
When was this?"

"At the close of her funeral, just before she was carried out."

"Was that the first and only time you had seen her so placed?"

"It was."

"Had you seen the casket itself prior to this moment of which you speak?"

"I had not."

"Had you been near it? Had you handled it in any way?"

"No, sir."

"Mr. Cumberland, you have heard mention made of a ring worn by your
sister in life, but missing from her finger after death?"

"I have."

"You remember this ring?"

"I do."

"Is this it?"

"It is, so far as I can judge at this distance."

"Hand the ring to the witness," ordered the judge.

The ring was so handed.

He glanced at it, and said bitterly: "I recognise it. It was her
engagement ring."

"Was this ring on her finger that night at the dinner-table?"

"I cannot say, positively, but I believe so. I should have noticed
its absen