repeating poetry. I give you my word, I had no thought of The
Avenger, no thought at all. To tell you the truth, I thought this
gentleman was a poor escaped lunatic, a man who'd got away from his
keeper. The Regent's Park, sir, as I need hardly tell you, is a
most quiet and soothing neighbourhood--"

And then a member of the general public gave a loud guffaw.

"I appeal to you; sir," the old gentleman suddenly cried out "to
protect me from this unseemly levity! I have not come here with
any other object than that of doing my duty as a citizen!"

"I must ask you to keep to what is strictly relevant," said the
coroner stiffly. "Time is going on, and I have another important
witness to call--a medical witness. Kindly tell me, as shortly as
possible, what made you suppose that this stranger could possibly
be--" with an effort he brought out for the first time since the
proceedings began, the words, "The Avenger?"

"I am coming to that!" said Mr. Cannot hastily. "I am coming to
that! Bear with me a little longer, Mr. Coroner. It was a foggy
night, but not as foggy as it became later. And just when we were
passing one another, I and this man, who was talking aloud to
himself--he, instead of going on, stopped and turned towards
me. That made me feel queer and uncomfortable, the more so that
there was a very wild, mad look on his face. I said to him, as
soothingly as possible, 'A very foggy night, sir.' And he said,
'Yes--yes, it is a foggy night, a night fit for the commission of
dark and salutary deeds.' A very strange phrase, sir, that--'dark
and salutary deeds.'" He looked at the coroner expectantly--

"Well? Well, Mr. Cannot? Was that all? Did you see this person
go off in the direction of--of King's Cross, for instance?"

"No." Mr. Cannot reluctantly shook his head. "No, I must honestly
say I did not. He walked along a certain way by my side, and then
he crossed the road and was lost in the fog."

"That will do," said the coroner. He spoke more kindly. "I thank
you, Mr. Cannot, for coming here and giving us what you evidently
consider important information."

Mr. Cannot bowed, a funny, little, old-fashioned bow, and again some
of those present tittered rather foolishly.

As he was stepping down from the witness-box, he turned and looked
up at the coroner, opening his lips as he did so. There was a
murmur of talking going on, but Mrs. Bunting, at any rate, heard
quite distinctly what it was that he said:

"O