Part 22 (2/2)

”Mrs. Morse says you found something of importance. What was it?”

”It was this, Mr. Busby,” and the woman held out a sheet of note paper.

”I came across it on the stairs leading to Miss Langmore's room. Shall I read it?” And as the coroner nodded, the woman read as follows:

”Since you refuse to open your room door to me, let me give you fair warning. You must either obey your mother that now is, and me, or leave this house. I have had enough of your willfulness and I shall not put up with it any longer.”

As the woman finished reading she handed the paper to the coroner.

”Ahem! Mrs. Gaspard, do you know who wrote this note?” asked the latter.

”The handwriting is exactly like Mr. Langmore's. I have compared the two, and so have Mrs. Morse and Mr. Pickerell, the schoolmaster.”

Again all eyes were bent upon Margaret. She had again arisen and was swaying from side to side.

”My father--never--never sent me--never wrote such a note--” she gasped, and then sank back and would have fallen had not Raymond supported her.

”A gla.s.s of water, quick!” cried the young man, and it was handed to him, and also a bottle of smelling salts. In a moment more Margaret revived.

”Take me away,” she moaned.

”I am sorry, but that cannot be allowed,” replied the coroner. ”You will have to remain until this session is over.”

”It's an outrage!” exclaimed Raymond, his eyes flas.h.i.+ng. ”You are all against her, and you are going to prove her guilty if you possibly can.

The whole proceedings is a farce.”

”Silence, young man, or I'll have you removed by an officer. You have interrupted the proceedings several times. I do not know what interest you have--”

”I am not ashamed to tell you of my interest, sir. I am engaged to this young lady. I know she is innocent. It is preposterous to imagine that she would kill her own father. They loved each other too much.”

”Yes, but this note--” piped in Mrs. Gaspard. She was a strong believer in Margaret's guilt.

”I know nothing about that. It may be a forgery. I know Miss Langmore is innocent.”

”To merely say a thing does not prove it,” came from the coroner. ”We want facts, nothing else--and we are bound to have 'em.” He began to warm up also. ”I'm here to do my duty, regardless of you or anybody else. I ain't going to s.h.i.+eld anybody, rich or poor, high or low, known or unknown! Now, you sit down, and let the inquest proceed.”

And Raymond sat down, but with a great and growing bitterness filling his heart. He looked at Margaret and saw that she was trembling from head to foot.

There was an awkward pause.

”Mrs. Gaspard, did Mr. Pickerell say he thought Mr. Langmore had written this note?” questioned the coroner.

”He said the two handwritings were exactly alike. Here is a letter written and signed by Mr. Langmore. You can compare the two, if you wish.”

The letter was pa.s.sed over and not only the coroner, but also his jury, looked at both doc.u.ments carefully.

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