The inspector bowed but did not speak.  The lady standing before him showed no emotion, no fluttering fear, no anxiety, no desire to end the interview.  The information he had received was very vague; one of the porters, rushing out to be in readiness for the train, had seen a scuffle, at the other end of the platform, between Leonards and a gentleman accompanied by a lady, but heard no noise; and before the train had got to its full speed after starting, he had been almost knocked down by the headlong run of the enraged half intoxicated Leonards, swearing and cursing awfully.  He had not thought any more about it, till his evidence was routed out by the inspector, who, on making some farther inquiry at the railroad station, had heard from the station-master that a young lady and gentleman had been there about that hour—­the lady remarkably handsome—­and said, by some grocer’s assistant present at the time, to be a Miss Hale, living at Crampton, whose family dealt at his shop.  There was no certainty that the one lady and gentleman were identical with the other pair, but there was great probability.  Leonards himself had gone, half-mad with rage and pain, to the nearest gin-palace for comfort; and his tipsy words had not been attended to by the busy waiters there; they, however, remembered his starting up and cursing himself for not having sooner thought of the electric telegraph, for some purpose unknown; and they believed that he left with the idea of going there.  On his way, overcome by pain or drink, he had lain down in the road, where the police had found him and taken him to the Infirmary:  there he had never recovered sufficient consciousness to give any distinct account of his fall, although once or twice he had had glimmerings of sense sufficient to make the authorities send for the nearest magistrate, in hopes that he might be able to take down the dying man’s deposition of the cause of his death.  But when the magistrate had come, he was rambling about being at sea, and mixing up names of captains and lieutenants in an indistinct manner with those of his fellow porters at the railway; and his last words were a curse on the ‘Cornish trick’ which had, he said, made him a hundred pounds poorer than he ought to have been.  The inspector ran all this over in his mind—­the vagueness of the evidence to prove that Margaret had been at the station—­the unflinching, calm denial which she gave to such a supposition.  She stood awaiting his next word with a composure that appeared supreme.

’Then, madam, I have your denial that you were the lady accompanying the gentleman who struck the blow, or gave the push, which caused the death of this poor man?’

A quick, sharp pain went through Margaret’s brain.  ’Oh God! that I knew Frederick were safe!’ A deep observer of human countenances might have seen the momentary agony shoot out of her great gloomy eyes, like the torture of some creature brought to bay.  But the inspector though a very keen, was not a very deep observer.  He was a little struck, notwithstanding, by the form of the answer, which sounded like a mechanical repetition of her first reply—­not changed and modified in shape so as to meet his last question.