A stream of other witnesses came and gave their stories. Brellier told of
how he had been rung up by Merriton to ask if there were any news of
Wynne's arrival at the house. Told, in fact, all that he admitted to know
of the night's affair, and ended up his evidence with the remark that
"nothing on earth or in heaven would make him believe that Sir Nigel
Merriton was guilty of murder."
Things were narrowing down. There was a restlessness about the court;
time was getting on and everything pointed one way. After some discussion
with the jury, the foreman of it, a stout, pretentious fellow, rose to
his feet and whispered a few hurried words to the coroner. That gentleman
wiped his forehead with a silk handkerchief and looked about him. It had
been a trying business altogether. He'd be glad of his supper. He got to
his feet and turned to the crowded room.
"Gentlemen," he said, "in all this evidence that has been placed before
us I find not one loophole of escape for the prisoner, not one opening
by which there might be a chance of passing any other verdict than that
which I am compelled to pass now; save only in the evidence of Borkins,
who tells that the dead man groaned and moaned for a minute or two after
being shot.
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