ery
briefly stated how he had been connected with him in old days.

"The lady," he said, "is Mrs. Benyon. The other figure is that of
myself. I had not seen the deceased for many years."

"You were not on terms with him?" asked the coroner, who, in common with
half the listeners, had known the lady as Mrs. Medland.

"No," said Mr. Medland; "I lost sight of him."

"You did not hear from--from any one about him?"

"No."

He gave the dates when he had last seen Benyon in old days. Asked
whether he had communicated with him between that date and the dead
man's reappearance, he answered,

"Once, about four years ago. I wrote to tell him of that lady's death,"
and he pointed again to the picture, and went on to tell the details of
Benyon's subsequent application to him for a post under Government.

"You refused it?" he was asked.

"Yes, I refused it. I spoke to him once again, when we met on a social
occasion. We had a sort of dispute then. I never saw him again to speak
to."

"It was all done," said Mr. Duncombe, describing the scene, "in a
repressed way that was very effective--to a house that knew the
circumstances most effective. And the other fellow--Kilshaw--he gave
some sport too. The coroner (they told me he was one of Medland's men,
and I noticed he spared Medland all he could) was inclined to be a bit
down on Kilshaw. Kilshaw was cool and handy in his answers, but, Lord
love you! his game came out pretty plain. A monkey! You don't give a man
a monkey unless there's value received! So people saw, and Mr. Kilshaw
looked a bit uncomfortable when he caught Medland's eye. He looked at
him like that," and Mr. Duncombe assumed the finest wronged-hero glance
in his repertory.

"Oh, come, old chap, I bet he didn't," observed Captain Heseltine.
"We've seen him, you know."

Duncombe laughed good-humouredly.

"At any rate he made Kilshaw look a little green, and some of the people
behind called out 'Shame!' and got themselves sat upon. Then they had
Medland up again and twisted him a bit about his acquaintance with
Gaspard; but the coroner didn't seem to think there was anything in it,
and they found murder against Gaspard, and rang down the curtain. And
when we got outside there was a bit of a rumpus. They hooted Kilshaw and
cheered Medland, and yelled like mad when a dashed pretty girl drove up
in a pony-cart and carried him off. Altogether it wasn't half bad."

"Glad you enjoyed yourself," observed Captain