She had endured the shame of her husband's distrust. The man she loved
so dearly had cast her from him with disdain and aversion. What new
agony could await her equal to that through which she had passed.
Reginald Eversleigh's hatred and rage betrayed him into passing the
limits of prudence. He told the story of the destroyed will, and boldly
accused Lady Eversleigh of having destroyed it.
"You forget yourself, Sir Reginald," said the coroner; "you are here as
a witness, and not as an accuser."
"But am I to keep silence, when I know that yonder woman is guilty of a
crime by which I am robbed of my heritage?" cried the young man,
passionately. "Who but she was interested in the destruction of that
will? Who had so strong a motive for wishing my uncle's death? Why was
she hiding in the castle after her pretended departure, except for some
guilty purpose? She left her own apartments before dusk, after writing
a farewell letter to her husband. Where was she, and what was she
doing, after leaving those apartments?"
"Let me answer those questions, Sir Reginald Eversleigh," said a voice
from the doorway.
The young baronet turned and recognized the speaker. It was his uncle's
old friend, Captain Copplestone, who had made his way into the room
unheard while Reginald had been giving his evidence. He was still
seated in his invalid-chair--still unable to move without its aid.
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