Both the servants and also Mr Bloggs slept at the top of the house, and it is a known fact that sleep in most cases is always heaviest in the early morning hours; there was, therefore, nothing strange in the fact that no one heard either the fall or a scream, if Mrs Yule uttered one, which is doubtful.

“So far, you see,” continued the man in the corner, after a slight pause, “there did not appear to be anything very out of the way or mysterious about Mrs Yule’s tragic death. But the public had expected interesting developments, and I must say their expectations were more than fully realized.

“Jane, the cook, was the first witness to give the public an inkling of the sensations to come.

“She deposed that on Thursday, the 27th, she was alone in the kitchen in the evening after dinner, as it was the housemaid’s evening out, when, at about nine o’clock, there was a ring at the bell.

“‘I went to answer the door,’ said Jane, ‘and there was a lady, all dressed in black, as far as I could see – as the ’all gas always did burn very badly – still, I think she was dressed dark, and she ’ad on a big ’at and a veil with spots. She says to me: “Mrs Yule lives ’ere?” I says, “She do, ’m,” though I don’t think she was quite the lady, so I don’t know why I said ’m, but –’

“‘Yes, yes!’ here interrupted the coroner somewhat impatiently, ‘it doesn’t matter what you said. Tell us what happened.’

“‘Yes, sir,’ continued Jane, quite undisturbed, ’as I was saying, I asked the lady her name, and she says: “Tell Mrs Yule I would wish to speak with ’er,” then as she saw me ’esitating, for I didn’t like leaving ’er all alone in the ’all, she said, “Tell Mrs Yule that Mrs William Yule wishes to speak with ’er.”’

“Jane paused to take breath, for she talked fast and volubly, and all eyes were turned to a corner of the room, where William Yule, dressed in the careless fashion affected by artists, sat watching and listening eagerly to everything that was going on. At the mention of his wife’s name he shrugged his shoulders, and I thought for the moment that he would jump up and say something; but he evidently thought better of it, and remained as before, silent and quietly watching.

“‘You showed the lady upstairs?’ asked the coroner, after an instant’s most dramatic pause.

“‘Yes, sir,’ replied Jane; ‘but I went to ask the mistress first. Mrs Yule was sitting in the drawing-room, reading. She says to me, “Show the lady up at once; and, Jane,” she says, “ask Mr Bloggs to kindly come to the drawing-room.” I showed the lady up, and I told Mr Bloggs, ’oo was smoking in the library, and ’e went to the drawing-room.

“‘When Annie come in,’ continued Jane with increased volubility, ‘I told ’er ’oo ’ad come, and she and me was very astonished, because we ’ad often seen Mr William Yule come to see ’is mother, but we ’ad never seen ’is wife. “Did you see what she was like, cook?” says Annie to me. “No,” I says, “the ’all gas was burnin’ that badly, and she ’ad a veil on.” Then Annie ups and says, “I must go up, cook,” she says, “for my things is all wet. I never did see such rain in all my life. I tell you my boots and petticoats is all soaked through.” Then up she runs, and I thought then that per’aps she meant to see if she couldn’t ’ear anything that was goin’ on upstairs. Presently she come down –’

“But at this point Jane’s flow of eloquence received an unexpected check. The coroner preferred to hear from Annie herself whatever the latter may have overheard, and Jane, very wrathful and indignant, had to stand aside, while Annie, who was then recalled, completed the story.

“‘I don’t know what made me stop on the landing,’ she explained timidly, ‘and I’m sure I didn’t mean to listen. I was going upstairs to change my things, and put on my cap and apron, in case the mistress wanted anything.

“‘Then, I don’t think I ever ’eard Mrs Yule’s voice so loud and angry.’

“‘You stopped to listen?’ asked the coroner.

“‘I couldn’t ’elp it, sir. Mrs Yule was shouting at the top of ’er voice. “Out of my ’ouse,” she says; “I never wish to see you or your precious husband inside my doors again.”’

“‘You are quite sure that you heard those very words?’ asked the coroner earnestly.

“‘I’ll take my Bible oath on every one of them, sir,’ said Annie emphatically. ‘Then I could ’ear someone crying and moaning: “Oh! what ’ave I done? Oh! what ’ave I done?” I didn’t like to stand on the landing then, for fear someone should come out, so I ran upstairs, and put on my cap and apron, for I was all in a tremble, what with what I’d ’eard, and the storm outside, which was coming down terrible.

“‘When I went down again, I ’ardly durst stand on the landing, but the door of the drawing-room was ajar, and I ’eard Mr Bloggs say: “Surely you will not turn a human being, much less a woman, out on a night like this?” And the mistress said, still speaking very angry: “Very well, you may sleep here; but remember, I don’t wish to see your face again. I go to church at six and come home again at seven; mind you are out of the house before then. There are plenty of trains after seven o’clock.”’

“After that,” continued the man in the corner, “Mrs Yule rang for the housemaid and gave orders that the spare room should be got ready, and that the visitor should have some tea and toast brought to her in the morning as soon as Annie was up.

“But Annie was rather late on that eventful morning of the 28th. She did not go downstairs till seven o’clock. When she did, she found her mistress lying dead at the foot of the stairs. It was not until after the doctor had been and gone that both the servants suddenly recollected the guest in the spare room. Annie knocked at her door, and, receiving no answer, she walked in; the bed had not been slept in, and the spare room was empty.

“‘There, now!’ was the housemaid’s decisive comment, ‘me and cook did ’ear someone cross the ’all, and the front door bang about an hour after everyone else was in bed.’

“Presumably, therefore, Mrs William Yule had braved the elements and left the house at about midnight, leaving no trace behind her, save, perhaps, the broken lock of the desk that had held the deed of gift in favour of young Bloggs.”

3

“Some say there’s a Providence that watches over us,” said the man in the corner, when he had looked at me keenly, and assured himself that I was really interested in his narrative, “others use the less poetic and more direct formula, that ‘the devil takes care of his own’. The impression of the general public during this interesting coroner’s inquest was that the devil was taking special care of his own – (‘his own’ being in this instance represented by Mrs William Yule, who, by the way, was not present).

“What the Evil One had done for her was this: He caused the hall gas to burn so badly on that eventful Thursday night, 27th March, that Jane, the cook, had not been able to see Mrs William Yule at all distinctly. He, moreover, decreed that when Annie went into the drawing-room later on to take her mistress’ orders with regard to the spare room, Mrs William was apparently dissolved in tears, for she only presented the back of her head to the inquisitive glances of the young housemaid.

“After that the two servants went to bed, and heard someone cross the hall and leave the house about an hour or so later; but neither of them could swear positively that they would recognize the mysterious visitor if they set eyes on her again.

“Throughout all these proceedings, however, you may be sure that Mr William Yule did not remain a passive spectator. In fact, I, who watched him, could see quite clearly that he had the greatest possible difficulty in controlling himself. Mind you, I knew by then exactly where the hitch lay, and I could, and will presently, tell you exactly all that occurred on Thursday evening, 27th March, at No.