ber
being surprised and a little frightened when I saw the keys. But I
didn't go back."

"Yet you had telephoned for the police?"

"Yes."

"And then locked them out?"

"I didn't care--I didn't care."

An infinite number of questions followed. The poor child was near
fainting, but bore up wonderfully notwithstanding, contradicting herself
but seldom; and then only from lack of understanding the question, or
from sheer fatigue. Mr. Fox was considerate, and Mr. Moffat interrupted
but seldom. All could see that this noble-hearted girl, this heroine of
all hearts was trying to tell the truth, and sympathy was with her, even
that of the prosecution. But certain facts had to be brought out, among
them the blowing off of her hat on that hurried drive home through the
ever thickening snow-storm--a fact easily accounted for, when one
considered the thick coils of hair over which it had been drawn.

The circumstances connected with her arrival at the house were all
carefully sifted, but nothing new came up, nor was her credibility as a
witness shaken. The prosecution had lost much by this witness, but it had
also gained. No doubt now remained that the ring was still on the
victim's hand when she succumbed to the effects of the poison; and the
possibility of another presence in the house during the fateful interview
just recorded, had been strengthened, rather than lessened, by Carmel' s
hesitating admissions. And so the question hung poised, and I was
expecting to see her dismissed from the stand, when the district
attorney settled himself again into his accustomed attitude of inquiry,
and launched this new question:

"When you went into the stable to unharness your horse, what did you do
with the little bag you carried?"

"I took it out of the cutter."

"What, then?"

"Set it down somewhere."

"Was there anything in the bag?"

"Not now. I had left the tongs at the club-house, and the paper I had
burned. I took nothing else."

"How about the candlestick?"

"That I carried in one of the pockets of my coat. That I left, too."

"Was that all you carried in your pockets?"

"Yes--the candlestick and the candle. The candlestick on one side and the
candle on the other."

"And these you did not have on your return?"

"No, I left both."

"So that your pockets were empty--entirely empty--when you drove into
your own gate?"

"Yes, sir, so far as I know. I never looked into them."

"And felt nothing there?"

"N