at to
a photographer in Baker Street for the portrait which Charles too
hastily identified as that of Colonel Clay in his personification of
Mr. Richard Brabazon. He further elicited the fact that the portrait
of the Count von Lebenstein was really taken from Dr. Julius Keppel,
a Tyrolese music-master, residing at Balham, whom he put into the
box, and who was well known, as it chanced, to the foreman of the
jury. Gradually he made it clear to us that no portraits existed of
Colonel Clay at all, except Dolly Lingfield's--so it dawned upon
me by degrees that even Dr. Beddersley could only have been misled
if we had succeeded in finding for him the alleged photographs of
Colonel Clay as the count and the curate, which had been shown us
by Medhurst. Altogether, the prisoner based his defence upon the
fact that no more than two witnesses directly identified him; while
one of those two had positively sworn that he recognised as the
prisoner's two portraits which turned out, by independent evidence,
to be taken from other people!

The judge summed up in a caustic way which was pleasant to neither
party. He asked the jury to dismiss from their minds entirely the
impression created by what he frankly described as "Sir Charles
Vandrift's obvious dishonesty." They must not allow the fact that he
was a millionaire--and a particularly shady one--to prejudice their
feelings in favour of the prisoner. Even the richest--and vilest--of
men must be protected. Besides, this was a public question. If a
rogue cheated a rogue, he must still be punished. If a murderer
stabbed or shot a murderer, he must still be hung for it. Society
must see that the worst of thieves were not preyed upon by others.
Therefore, the proved facts that Sir Charles Vandrift, with all his
millions, had meanly tried to cheat the prisoner, or some other poor
person, out of valuable diamonds--had basely tried to juggle Lord
Craig-Ellachie's mines into his own hands--had vilely tried to bribe
a son to betray his father--had directly tried, by underhand means,
to save his own money, at the risk of destroying the wealth of
others who trusted to his probity--these proved facts must not
blind them to the truth that the prisoner at the bar (if he were
really Colonel Clay) was an abandoned swindler. To that point alone
they must confine their attention; and _if_ they were convinced that
the prisoner was shown to be the self-same man who appeared on
various occasions as Davi