ng of his examination, and plunged into a
topic which most people had expected him to avoid. I certainly had, and
felt all the uncertainty and secret alarm which an unexpected move
occasions where the issue is momentous with life or death. I was filled
with terror, not for the man on trial, but for my secret. Was it shared
by the defence? Was Mr. Moffat armed with the knowledge I thought
confined to myself and Arthur? Had the latter betrayed the cause I had
been led to believe he was ready to risk his life to defend? Had I
mistaken his gratitude to myself; or had I underrated Mr. Moffat's
insight or powers of persuasion? We had just been made witness to one
triumph on the part of this able lawyer in a quarter deemed unassailable
by the prosecution. Were we about to be made witnesses of another? I felt
the sweat start on my forehead, and was only able to force myself into
some show of self-possession by the evident lack of perfect assurance
with which this same lawyer now addressed his client.

The topic which had awakened in me these doubts and consequent agitation
will appear from the opening question.

"Mr. Cumberland, to return to the night of your sister's death. Can you
tell us what overcoat you put on when leaving your house?"

Arthur was as astonished and certainly as disconcerted, if not as
seriously alarmed, as I was, by this extraordinary move. Surprise, anger,
then some deeper feeling rang in his voice as he replied:

"I cannot. I took down the first I saw and _the first hat."_

The emphasis placed on the last three words may have been meant as a
warning to his audacious counsel, but if so, it was not heeded.

"Took down? Took down from where?"

"From the rack in the hall where I hang my things; the side hall leading
to the door where we usually go out."

"Have you many coats--overcoats, I mean?"

"More than one."

"And you do not know which one you put on that cold night?"

"I do not."

"But you know what one you wore back?"

"No."

Short, sharp, and threatening was this _no_. A war was on between this
man and his counsel, and the wonder it occasioned was visible in every
eye. Perhaps Mr. Moffat realised this; this was what he had dreaded,
perhaps. At all events, he proceeded with his strange task, in apparent
oblivion of everything but his own purpose.

"You do not know what one you wore back?"

"I do not."

"You have seen the hat and coat which have been shown here and sworn to
as bei