The jurors, who sat very much in the shadow, had up to this point
attracted but little attention. But now they began to make their
presence felt, perhaps because the break in the witness' words had
been accompanied by a sly look at Jinny. Possibly warned by this
that something lay back of this hitherto timid witness' sudden
volubility, one of them now spoke up.

"In what room did you say this pistol was kept?"

"In Mr. and Mrs. Jeffrey's bed-room, sir; the room opening out of
the sitting-room where Mrs. Jeffrey had kept herself shut up all
day."

"Does this bed-room of which you speak communicate with the hall as
well as with the sitting room ?"

"No, sir; it is the defect of the house. Mr. and Mrs. Jeffrey often
spoke of it as a great annoyance. You had to pass through the little
boudoir in order to reach it."

The juryman sank back, evidently satisfied with her replies, but we
who marked the visible excitement with which the witness had answered
this seemingly unimportant question, wondered what special interest
surrounded that room and the pistol to warrant the heightened color
with which the girl answered this new interlocutor. We were not
destined to know at this time, for the coroner, when he spoke again,
pursued a different subject.

"How long was this before Mr. Jeffrey came in."