of which Joe Chandler, for instance, was
ignorant? And, as if in answer to the unspoken question, her heart
gave a sudden leap, for a big, burly man had taken his place in the
witness-box--a policeman who had not been sitting with the other
witnesses.

But soon her uneasy terror became stilled. This witness was simply
the constable who had found the first body. In quick, business-like
tones he described exactly what had happened to him on that cold,
foggy morning ten days ago. He was shown a plan, and he marked it
slowly, carefully, with a thick finger. That was the exact place
--no, he was making a mistake--that was the place where the other
body had lain. He explained apologetically that he had got rather
mixed up between the two bodies--that of Johanna Cobbett and Sophy
Hurtle.

And then the coroner intervened authoritatively: "For the purpose
of this inquiry," he said, "we must, I think, for a moment consider
the two murders together."

After that, the witness went on far more comfortably; and as he
proceeded, in a quick monotone, the full and deadly horror of
The Avenger's acts came over Mrs. Bunting in a great seething flood
of sick fear and--and, yes, remorse.

Up to now she had given very little thought--if, indeed, any thought
--to the drink-sodden victims of The Avenger. It was he who had
filled her thoughts,--he and those who were trying to track him down.
But now? Now she felt sick and sorry she had come here to-day. She
wondered if she would ever be able to get the vision the policeman's
words had conjured up out of her mind--out of her memory.

And then there came an eager stir of excitement and of attention
throughout the whole court, for the policeman had stepped down out of
the witness-box, and one of the women witnesses was being conducted to
his place.

Mrs. Bunting looked with interest and sympathy at the woman,
remembering how she herself had trembled with fear, trembled as that
poor, bedraggled, common-looking person was trembling now. The woman
had looked so cheerful, so--so well pleased with herself till a
minute ago, but now she had become very pale, and she looked round
her as a hunted animal might have done.

But the coroner was very kind, very soothing and gentle in his
manner, just as that other coroner had been when dealing with Ellen
Green at the inquest on that poor drowned girl.

After the witness had repeated in a toneless voice the solemn words
of the oath, she began to be