suddenly, and the next murder--the one in Angel Court--wasperpetrated on the day of his return."
As Mr Paget resumed his seat, my counsel, Mr Roland, rose. Turning tothe witness with a suave countenance, he mildly asked:
"How do you fix the day of the prisoner's return?"
"By the books of the club to which the accused belonged--the JuniorGarrick."
"You say you found the seals in the library. Could access be easilygained to that room?"
"No; prisoner's wife had the key."
"And she refused you the keys of the chest of drawers?"
"Yes, giving as her reason that it contained papers of a strictlyprivate nature."
"Did she express surprise when you found the seals?"
"When I showed them to her she fainted."
"You said, just now, that the little padlock was `concealed.' Are yousure it had not accidentally fallen behind the paper?"
"No; I should think not."
"Did you suspect the prisoner previous to his arrest?"
"I did. After the inquest on Mrs Inglewood, observation was kept uponhim for some time, but he eluded us by going abroad."
"And now you endeavour to fix the crime upon him without any directevidence. I have nothing more to ask you."
My hopes sank as Mr Roland resumed his seat, with a poor affectation ofindifference.
The next witness was a neatly-attired, gentlemanly-looking man, thejeweller's manager, who proved the purchase of the bracelet by MrsInglewood, and identified the tiny padlock as a portion of it.
When he had retired, Mr Roland having asked him no questions, he wassucceeded by Bob Nugent, who stepped into the witness-box averting mygaze. Was even Bob in the conspiracy!
"You were, I think, Mr Nugent," said the prosecuting counsel, "afriend--a particular friend I may say--of the prisoner's?"
"I was--formerly."
"Now, tell me, do you remember the night of the 15th August?"
"I do. The prisoner and I left the Junior Garrick Club soon aftermidnight, to proceed home."
"Was there anything in his manner which attracted your attention?"
"He seemed rather excited, having lost heavily at cards. I left him atDanes' Inn."
"Do you know on what day he returned from abroad?"
"It was in the beginning of March. He was then strangely reticent as tohis actions in the meantime."
"You will remember, as a journalist, possibly, on what night the murderin Angel Court occurred?"
"On the same night as the prisoner's return."
"Do you know anything of the photograph found upon the accused?"
"Yes; he produced it accidentally, while dining at the Junior GarrickClub, and appeared much confused and annoyed, endeavouring at once toconceal it."
"Did you see it again?"
"The prisoner, in consequence of some remarks I made to him, showed itto me next day at his hotel. On that occasion he explained that it hadbeen given to him by some man who is now dead."
"Did that not strike you as improbable?"
"Well--yes, it did."
"Did he enter into any further explanation?"
"Very little was said about the seal."
The court was extremely hot. Surely I was becoming fainter and morefaint! There was a singing and surging in my ears. Was I falling orstanding upright? What were they speaking of? I had lost sight of theface of my friend. I could only see the lines of expectant upturnedcountenances.
I was really fainting; nevertheless I struggled against it. Something,too, within me told me that I ought to struggle against it, yeteverything was swimming and whirling around me, and vague forms seemedrapidly passing and repassing before my vision.
Then I staggered backward into the chair placed for me, and graduallythe sense of sickening misery departed.
CHAPTER TWENTY NINE.
MONSIEUR'S OPINION.
The spirit was strong within me not to yield to any growingunconsciousness; not to be subdued by any physical or moral influences.
I again became perfectly calm. I was seated in the chair. A seafaringman was in the witness-box. Nugent was not there. Demetrius, sittingbelow, was looking at me with an anxious and uneasy expression.
"I recognise the accused," I heard the witness say in reply to aquestion from the prosecuting counsel. "A recent event has brought mehere to give evidence."
"Have you any doubt prisoner is the man you saw emerge from the doorwayof Mrs Inglewood's house on the night in question?"
"None."
"Did he appear agitated?"
"Yes; he passed me and rushed down the street as fast as he could run."
"Did you not make any attempt to stop him?"
"No; at that time I was unaware of the murder."
"When did you again see him?"
"Not until a few days ago, when I recognised his portrait in anewspaper."
A long cross-examination resulted in the witness firmly adhering to hisstory, and explaining that as he had been on a long voyage he knewnothing of the occurrence until many months afterwards.
Demetrius, with evident unwillingness, entered the box. His story wasbrief, yet damaging.
When he had concluded, Mr Roland, adjusting his eye-glasses, rose andasked:
"You are acquainted with prisoner's wife, I believe?"
"Yes; she is my cousin."
"Where did you go when you left England?"
"I decline to answer."
"You have been the prisoner's guest at Elveham, have you not?"
"Yes."
"And what were these suspicious circumstances of which you spoke justnow?"
"There were several. Late one night, about three weeks ago, I hadoccasion to enter the library. The door was ajar, and as I pushed itopen I saw the accused in the act of impressing a seal, similar to theones produced. I drew back unnoticed."
It was untrue! He had seen me sealing the envelope containing a lease,and believed I was using the fatal emblem!
I waited breathlessly for the next question.
"Is it a fact that on the night previous to his departure from Elveham,some unpleasant incident occurred?"
"I know nothing of it. I have heard that the prisoner had some littledifference with his wife."
"Come, sir," demanded my counsel sharply, "did you not overhear aconversation in the early morning?"
The witness appeared confused.
"Yes, I did," he admitted. "I heard my cousin ask him to wait astipulated period for an explanation."
"Have you any idea what this explanation is?"
"None."
"Then, after all, you are unable to throw any light whatever upon thesemysterious crimes?" he asked, in a strange harsh voice.
"I've told you all I know," replied Demetrius, a trifle paler thanbefore.
Mr Roland flung down his brief upon the table, slowly resumed his seat,and pushed his wig from off his forehead with a perplexed gesture.
I could hardly realise my situation. What could it all possibly mean?What was the object of this seaman giving evidence when he could throwno light upon the matter, except that he actually saw me following themurderer from Bedford Place?
He had taken a seat in the well of the Court with his face turnedtowards me.
"Sergius Hertzen."
As the words rang through the place I started. I had not seen Vera'suncle since our marriage, as he went to Zurich immediately afterwards.
There was a shuffling near the door, and the old man entered. As hemounted the steps to the witness-box I noticed he had aged considerably.
"What are you, Mr Hartzen?" Mr Paget asked, referring to his brief atthe same moment.
"Police agent."
"And your nationality?"
"Russian."
The old man a police agent! Dumbfounded, I looked blankly around me.
"You are father of the previous witness?"
"I am."
"Now, what evidence can you give regarding the charg
e against theprisoner?"
There was a dead and painful silence.
"We first met at the Hotel Isotta, Genoa, about a month after the murderin Bedford Place. We frequently played _ecarte_ together, and on oneoccasion he paid me a debt with the three five-pound notes I nowproduce."
"And what is there peculiar about them?"
"I have since ascertained that their numbers correspond with those nowknown to have been stolen from the house in Bedford Place."
The thought flashed across my mind that once, when I had lost to him, Ihad discharged the debt with three notes. From whom I received them Icould not tell.
"What else do you know about the affair?" was the