ey in
Meadow Gate, told him where he was."

"You didn't go to the Moot Hall yourself?"

"No; there were patients in the surgery."

The Coroner paused in his questioning, glanced at his papers, and then
nodded to the witness as an intimation that he had nothing further to
ask him. And Carstairs was about to step down from the box, when Cotman,
the solicitor to whom Wellesley had been whispering, rose quickly from
his seat and turned towards the Coroner.

"Before this witness leaves the box, sir," he said, "I should like to
ask him two or three questions. I am instructed by Dr. Wellesley to
appear for him. Dr. Wellesley, since you resumed this inquest, sir,
learns with surprise and--yes, I will say disgust--for strong word
though it is, it is strictly applicable!--that all unknown to him the
police hold him suspect, and are endeavouring to fasten the crime of
murder on him. In fact, sir, I cannot sufficiently express my
condemnation of the methods which have evidently been resorted to, in
underhand fashion----"

The Coroner waved a deprecating hand.

"Yes, yes!" he said. "But we are here, Mr. Cotman, to hold a full
inquiry into the circumstances of the death of the late Mayor, and the
police, or anybody else, as you know very well, are fully entitled to
pursue any course they choose in the effort to get at the truth. Just as
you are entitled to ask any questions of any witness, to be sure. You
wish to question the present witness?"

"I shall exercise my right to question this and any other witness,
sir," replied Cotman. He turned to Carstairs, who had lingered in the
witness-box during this exchange between coroner and solicitor. "Dr.
Carstairs," he continued, "you say that after being away from his
surgery for nineteen minutes on the evening of Mr. Wallingford's death,
Dr. Wellesley came back to you there?"

"Yes," answered Carstairs. "That's so."

"Was anyone with you in the surgery when he returned?"

"No, no one."

"You were alone with him, until he went out again to the appointment in
Meadow Gate?"

"Yes, quite alone."

"So you had abundant opportunity of observing him. Did he seem at all
excited, flurried, did you notice anything unusual in his manner?"

"I didn't. He was just himself."

"Quite calm and normal?"

"Oh, quite!"

"Didn't give you the impression that he'd just been going through any
particularly moving or trying episode--such as murdering a
fellow-creature?"

"He didn't," repli