r things. Why, think of that
Blackburn murder in which I was engaged years ago. It was almost
identical with this affair, and there was not the slightest doubt that
he was guilty. Why, he confessed it to the chaplain afterwards. You
must remember that Stepaside was in a mad passion at the time.
Besides, you see, he's never accounted for those hours between midnight
and six in the morning!"

"Yes, but no prisoner charged for murder is obliged to account for his
time."

"Exactly, but a jury has to give its verdict upon evidence. And
remember this, too," and Mr. Bakewell would not perhaps have spoken so
freely had his tongue not been unloosed by the generous wine he had
been drinking. "Remember this, too, and, of course, we are all friends
here, and what I say will not go beyond this room--but the evidence
to-morrow will surprise you!"

"In what way?"

"Well, one of the witnesses to-morrow will swear that he saw him not
half a mile from Howden Clough, in a state of excitement, about five
o'clock on the morning of the murder, that is to say, about half an
hour after it took place, according to the doctor's evidence. You see,
we have the servants' testimony that they heard him come up to the top
storey of the house; that he stood at their bedroom door and then went
down again; that they, wondering what had happened, followed, and saw
him go out into the night alone. Of course, on the face of it, it does
seem unlikely that a clever fellow such as Stepaside undoubtedly is,
with a great career possible for him, should have done the deed so
clumsily. But, don't you see, everything points to him, and unless he
brings some extraordinary witnesses on the other side, which he isn't
trying to do, mind you, the jury have no alternative but to find him
guilty."

"My own belief is that he's hiding something in his sleeve, and that if
he's hanged it'll be a miscarriage of justice."

A waiter then came into the room bearing a slip of paper, which he took
to Judge Bolitho. The judge received it calmly and unfolded it,
talking meanwhile to his neighbour at the table. After reading a few
lines, however, a puzzled expression came on to his face, which was
followed by a look almost amounting to terror. More than one who
watched him thought he saw his hands tremble somewhat; nevertheless, he
held himself in check, like one who was trying to appear to be calm, as
he read it the second time. The men who were at the bottom of