“Now, Myndert, my good fellow,” said the coroner, “if yer knows anything about this affair, fire away.”

“Will the coroner be good enough to swear the witness?” asked Fayette Overtop.

“Oh!  I’d quite forgot it.”  And the coroner mumbled his irreverent jargon.

“Two minutes are enough to tell you all I know, Harry,” said the young man, in a sweet, effeminate voice.  “I happened to save Miss Minford’s life, a few months ago—­she will give you the particulars, no doubt, if you desire them—­and that is the way I made her acquaintance.” (Here another respectful bow to the young lady.) “Since then, I have met her, quite accidentally, a few times, and—­I do not pretend to conceal it—­have gradually come to feel an interest—­a brotherly interest, I may call it—­in her.” (The coroner smiled.) “Having learned from her that she was receiving her education at the expense of Mr. Wilkeson, and that that gentleman was a constant visitor at her father’s house I thought it proper, as a sincere and disinterested friend of the young lady, to make some inquiries into his character.  Judging, from the result of these inquiries, that his designs were not honorable toward Miss Minford—­Mr. Wilkeson will pardon the expression, but I am under oath, and must tell the truth as to my motives—­I took the liberty of writing a note to Mr. Minford, merely cautioning him against Mr. Wilkeson.  I did not sign my name to the note, because I was not personally acquainted with Mr. Minford—­in fact, never saw him in my life—­and did not wish to assume the responsibility, disagreeable to every sensitive person, of interfering in another man’s family affairs.  The object of the note was to make Mr. Minford cautious.  I presume no one will undertake to say that a father can be too cautious concerning the honor of a young and lovely daughter.” (Another respectful glance at Miss Minford.) “I am aware anonymous letters are a little irregular, in the opinions of most people.  But, when sent with a good motive, I really don’t see the harm in them.”

“Nor I neither,” said the coroner.  “It strikes me they’re correct enough when the motive’s a good ’un.”

“But, your Honor, when an anonymous letter is full of lies and slanders, I respectfully submit that it is a piece of cowardly malice, which the law ought to punish with the utmost severity.”  Fayette Overtop spoke with tranquillity and firmness, looking young Van Quintem directly in the eye, and making him quail.

The judicious phrase, “Your Honor,” alone saved Overtop from an explosion of official wrath.  “The Court can’t allow these interruptions, Mr. Overtop,” said the coroner.  “Her dignity must be maintained.  As for ’nonymous letters, whether it’s right or wrong to send them, people will differ.  The coroner and the jury is competent to judge for themselves.  Go ahead, Myndert.”