nto the shade, and any telegraphing between him and
the witness was thus rendered impossible. This preparation, as if for
some extraordinary and solemn purpose, together with the profound
silence which reigned in the court, told fearfully, as I expected, upon
the nerves of Mrs. Elizabeth Wareing. She already seemed as if about to
swoon with agitation and ill-defined alarm.

"Pray, madam," said I, "is your name Wareing or Tucker?"

She did not answer, and I repeated the question. "Tucker," she at last
replied in a tremulous whisper.

"I thought so. And pray, Mrs. Tucker, were you ever 'in trouble' in
London for robbing your lodgings?"

I thought she attempted to answer, but no sound passed her lips. One of
the ushers of the court handed her a glass of water at my suggestion, and
she seemed to recover somewhat. I pressed my question; and at last she
replied in the same low, agitated voice, "Yes, I have been."

"I know you have. Mr. Silas Thorndyke, I believe, was your bail on that
occasion, and the matter was, I understand, compromised--arranged--at all
events the prosecution was not pressed. Is not that so?"

"Yes--no--yes."

"Very well: either answer will do. You lived also, I believe, with Mr.
Thorndyke, as his housekeeper of course, when he was in business as a
concocter and vender of infallible drugs and pills?"

"Yes."

"He was held to be skilful in the preparation of drugs, was he
not--well-versed in their properties?"

"Yes--I believe so--I do not know. Why am I asked such questions?"

"You will know presently. And now, woman, answer the question I am about
to put to you, as you will be compelled to answer it to God at the last
great day--What was the nature of the drug which you or he mixed with the
medicine prescribed for the late Mrs. Thorndyke?"

A spasmodic shriek, checked by a desperate effort, partially escaped her,
and she stood fixedly gazing with starting eyes in my face.

The profoundest silence reigned in the court as I iterated the question.

"You must answer, woman," said the judge sternly, "unless you know your
answer will criminate yourself."

The witness looked wildly round the court, as if in search of counsel or
sympathy; but encountering none but frowning and eager faces--Thorndyke
she could not discern in the darkness--she became giddy and
panic-stricken, and seemed to lose all presence of mind.

"He--he--he," she at last gasped--"he mixed it. I do not know--But
how," she ad