His face was absolutely inscrutable, a pallid mask, that might have concealed emotion of any sort. But there was a suggestion of fear in the strange eyes, as they gazed at Cicely, and though it was quickly suppressed it had been noted by those most interested.

The girl looked straight at him, with determination written in every line of her face. It was quite evident to the onlookers that a mental message was passing between these two.

“You are sure, Mr. Hunt, that your statement as to the time is correct?” said the coroner, turning again to him.

“Perfectly sure, sir. It is my business to be sure of the time.”