Thomas glanced a trifle uneasily at his' fellow-servants, but
answered up promptly and as if without reserve;

"I don't think it would be possible for anybody to leave this house
after six in the morning without either myself or the cook's knowing of
it. Folks don't jump from second-story windows in broad daylight, and
as to leaving by the doors, the front door closes with such a slam all
the house can hear it from top to bottom, and as for the back-door, no
one that goes out of that can get clear of the yard without going by
the kitchen window, and no one can go by our kitchen window without the
cook's a-seeing of them, that I can just swear to." And he cast a
half-quizzing, half-malicious look at the round, red-faced individual
in question, strongly suggestive of late and unforgotten bickerings
over the kitchen coffee-urn and castor.

This reply, which was of a nature calculated to deepen the
forebodings which had already settled upon the minds of those present,
produced a visible effect. The house found locked, and no one seen to
leave it! Evidently, then, we had not far to look for the assassin.

Shifting on his chair with increased fervor, if I may so speak, the
juryman glanced sharply around. But perceiving the renewed interest in
the faces about him, declined to weaken the effect of the last
admission, by any further questions. Settling, therefore, comfortably
back, he left the field open for any other juror who might choose to
press the inquiry. But no one seeming to be ready to do this, Thomas in
his turn evinced impatience, and at last, looking respectfully around,
inquired:

"Would any other gentleman like to ask me anything?"