was found to be lying unclaimed in the cloak-room at Charing Cross Station.  I was able to identify the suit-case as that which I had seen the testator carry away from Queen Square.  I was also able to identify some of the contents.  I interviewed the cloak-room attendant, who informed me that the suit-case had been deposited on the twenty-third at about 4.15 P.M.  He had no recollection of the person who deposited it.  It remained unclaimed in the possession of the railway company for three months, and was then surrendered to me.”

“Were there any marks or labels on it showing the route by which it had travelled?”

“There were no labels on it and no marks other than the initials ‘J.B.’”

“Do you happen to know the testator’s age?”

“Yes.  He was fifty-nine on the eleventh of October, nineteen hundred and two.”

“Can you tell us what his height was?”

“Yes.  He was exactly five feet eight inches.”

“What sort of health had he?”

“So far as I know his health was good.  I am not aware that he suffered from any disease.  I am only judging by his appearance, which was that of a healthy man.”

“Should you describe him as well preserved or otherwise?”

“I should describe him as a well-preserved man for his age.”

“How should you describe his figure?”

“I should describe him as rather broad and stout in build, and fairly muscular, though not exceptionally so.”

Mr. Loram made a rapid note of these answers, and then said: 

“You have told us, Mr. Jellicoe, that you have known the testator intimately for twenty-seven years.  Now, did you ever notice whether he was accustomed to wear any rings upon his fingers?”

“He wore upon the third finger of his left hand a copy of an antique ring which bore the device of the Eye of Osiris.  That was the only ring he ever wore as far as I know.”

“Did he wear it constantly?”

“Yes, necessarily; because it was too small for him, and having once squeezed it on he was never able to get it off again.”

This was the sum of Mr. Jellicoe’s evidence, and at its conclusion the witness glanced inquiringly at Mr. Bellingham’s counsel.  But Mr. Heath remained seated, attentively considering the notes that he had just made, and finding that there was to be no cross-examination, Mr. Jellicoe stepped down from the box.  I leaned back on my bench, and, turning my head, observed Miss Bellingham deep in thought.

“What do you think of it?” I asked.

“It seems very complete and conclusive,” she replied.  And then, with a sigh, she murmured:  “Poor old Uncle John!  How horrid it sounds to talk of him in this cold-blooded, business-like way, as ‘the testator,’ as if he were nothing but a sort of algebraical sign.”

“There isn’t much room for sentiment, I suppose, in the proceedings of the Probate Court,” I replied.  To which she assented, and then asked:  “Who is this lady?”