VERY BAD NEWS.
A month passed. Tom Roberts and Andrew watched together in Jermyn
Street, the former with a cap pulled well down over his face and very
tattered clothes, the latter dressed as a groom, but making no attempt
to disguise his face. During that time everyone who called at the house
in Jermyn Street was followed, and their names and addresses
ascertained, one always remaining in Jermyn Street while the other was
away. The man they were watching had gone out every evening, but it was
either to one or the other of the clubs to which he belonged, or to the
theater or opera.
"You will trace him to the right place presently, Roberts," Hilda said
cheerfully, when she saw that he was beginning to be disheartened at the
non-success of his search. "You may be sure that he will not go to see
these men oftener than he can help. Does he generally wear evening
clothes?"
"Always, miss."
"I don't think there is any occasion to follow him in future when he
goes out in that dress; I think it certain that when he goes to meet
these men he will be in disguise. When you see him come out dressed
altogether differently to usual, follow him closely. Even if we only
find where he goes it will be a very important step."
* * * * *
On the seventh week after the disappearance of Walter, Mr. Pettigrew
came in one morning at eleven o'clock. His air was very grave.
"Have you heard news, Mr. Pettigrew?" Hilda asked.
"I have very bad news. Mr. Comfrey, a lawyer of not the highest
standing, who is, I have learnt, acting for this fellow, called upon
me. He said, 'I am sorry to say that I have some painful news to give
you, Mr. Pettigrew. Yesterday the body of a child, a boy some six or
seven years old, was found in the canal at Paddington. It was taken to
the lockhouse. The features were entirely unrecognizable, and the police
surgeon who examined it said that it had been in the water over a month.
Most of its clothing was gone, partly torn off by barges passing over
the body; but there still remained a portion of its underclothing, and
this bore the letters W. R. The police recognized them as those of the
child who has been so largely advertised for, and, as my client, Mr.
Simcoe, had offered a thousand pounds reward, and as all information was
to be sent to me, a policeman came down, just as I was closing the
office, to inform me of the fact.
"'I at once communicated with my client, who was greatly distressed. He
went to Paddington the first thing this morning, and he tells me that he
has no doubt whatever that the remains are those of Walter Rivington,
although he could not swear to his identity, as the features are
altogether unrecognizable. As I understand, sir, that you and Miss
Covington were the guardians of this unfortunate child, I have driven
here at once in order that you may go up and satisfy yourselves on the
subject. I understand that an inquest will be held to-morrow.'"
Hilda had not spoken while Mr. Pettigrew was telling his story, but sat
speechless with horror.
"It cannot be; surely it cannot be!" she murmured. "Oh, Mr. Pettigrew!
say that you cannot believe it."
"I can hardly say that, my dear; the whole affair is such a terrible one
that I can place no bounds whatever to the villainy of which this man
may be capable. This may be the missing child, but, on the other hand,
it may be only a part of the whole plot."
"But who else can it be if it has Walter's clothes on?"
"As to that I can say nothing; but you must remember that this man is an
extraordinarily adroit plotter, and would hesitate at nothing to secure
this inheritance. There would be no very great difficulty in obtaining
from some rascally undertaker the body of a child of the right age,
dressing him up in some of our ward's clothes, and dropping the body
into the canal, which may have been done seven weeks ago, or may have
been done but a month. Of course I do not mean to say that this was so.
I only mean to say that it is possible. No. I expressed my opinion, when
we talked it over before, that no sensible man would put his neck in a
noose if he could carry out his object without doing so; and murder
could hardly be perpetrated without running a very great risk, for the
people with whom the child was placed would, upon missing it suddenly,
be very likely to suspect that it had been made away with, and would
either denounce the crime or extort money by holding a threat over his
head for years."
"Yes, that may be so!" Hilda exclaimed, rising to her feet. "Let us go
and see at once. I will take Netta with me; she knows him as well as I
do."
She ran upstairs and in a few words told Netta the news, and in five
minutes they came down, ready to start.
"I have told Walter's nurse to come with us," Hilda said. "If anyone can
recognize the child she ought to be able to do so. Fortunately, she is
still in the house."
"Now, young ladies," the lawyer said before they started, "let me
caution you, unless you feel a moderate certainty that this child is
Walter Rivington, make no admission whatever that you see any
resemblance. If the matter comes to a trial, your evidence and mine
cannot but weigh with the court as against that of this man who is
interested in proving its identity with Walter. Of course, if there is
any sign or mark on the body that you recognize, you will acknowledge it
as the body of our ward. We shall then have to fight the case on other
grounds. But unless you detect some unmistakable mark, and it is
extremely unlikely that you will do so in the state the body must be in,
confine yourself to simply stating that you fail to recognize it in any
way."
"There never was any mark on the poor child's body," Hilda said. "I have
regretted it so much, because, in the absence of any descriptive marks,
the chance of his ever being found was, of course, much lessened."
The lawyer had come in a four-wheeled cab, and in this the party all
took their places. Not a word was spoken on the way, except that Hilda
repeated what Mr. Pettigrew had said to the nurse. It was with very
white faces that they entered the lockhouse. The little body was lying
on a board supported by two trestles. It was covered by a piece of
sailcloth, and the tattered garments that it had had on were placed on a
chair beside it. Prepared as she was for something dreadful, the room
swam round, and had Hilda not been leaning on Mr. Pettigrew's arm she
would have fallen. There was scarce a semblance of humanity in the
little figure. The features of the face had been entirely obliterated,
possibly by the passage of barges, possibly by the work of simple decay.
"Courage, my dear!" Mr. Pettigrew said. "It is a painful duty, but it
must be performed."
The three women stood silent beside the little corpse. Netta was the
first to speak.
"I cannot identify the body as that of Walter Rivington," she said. "I
don't think that it would be possible for anyone to do so."
"Is the hair of the same color?" the policeman who was in charge of the
room asked.
"The hair is rather darker than his," Netta said; "but being so long in
the water, and in such dirty water, it might have darkened."
"That was never Master Walter's hair!" the nurse exclaimed. "The darling
had long, soft hair, and unless those who murdered him cut it short, it
would not be like this. Besides, this hair is stiffer. It is more like
the hair of a workhouse child than Master Walter's."
"That is so," Hilda said. "I declare that I not only do not recognize
the body as that of my ward, but that I am convinced it is not his."
"Judging only by the hair," Mr. Pettigrew said, "I am entirely of your
opinion, Miss Covington. I have stroked the child's head many times, and
his hair was like silk. I have nothing else to go by, and am convinced
that the body is not Walter Rivington's."
They then looked at the fragments of clothes. In two places they were
marked "W. R."
"That is my marking, miss," the nurse said, after closely examining the
initials. "I could not swear to the bits of clothes, but I can to the
letters. You see, miss, I always work a line above the letters and
another below them. I was taught to do it so when I was a girl in our
village school, and I have always done it since. But I never saw anyone
else mark them so. You see the letters are worked in red silk, and the
two lines in white. The old woman who taught us said that it made a
proper finish to the work. Yes, Miss Covington, I can swear to these
things being Master Walter's."
"You could not swear to their being those in which he went out the
morning he was lost, nurse?"
"I can, sir, because there is nothing missing except what he had on. I
have all his things properly counted, and everything is there."
At this moment there was a little stir outside, and Hilda glanced down
and whispered to Netta:
"Let down your fall; I do not want this man to recognize you."
Just as she did so John Simcoe entered. He bowed to Hilda.
"I am sorry, indeed, to meet you under such painful circumstances."
"I beg you not to address me, sir," she said haughtily. "I wish to have
no communication with or from you. Your coming here reminds me of the
thirty-seventh verse of the nineteenth chapter of St. John. You can look
it out, sir, if you happen to have a Bible at home. Fortunately it is
not wholly applicable, for we are all absolutely convinced that this
poor little body is not that of General Mathieson's grandson."
So saying she stepped out of the little house, followed by the others;
leaving John Simcoe white with passion.
"You should not have shown your hand so plainly, Miss Covington."
"I could not help it," the girl said. "He has called a dozen times at
the house and has always received the message, 'Not at home,' and he
must know that I suspect him of being Walter's abductor."
"What is the verse you referred him to, Hilda?" Netta said. "I confess
that I do not know any verse in St. John that seems to be at all
applicable to him."
"The quotation is, 'They shall look on Him whom they pierced.'"
Netta could not help smiling. Mr. Pettigrew shook his head.
"You are really too outspoken, Miss Covington, and you will get yourself
into trouble. As it is, you have clearly laid yourself open to an action
for libel for having practically called the man a murderer. We may think
what we like, but we are in no position to prove it."
"I am not afraid of that," she said. "I wish that he would do it; then
we should have all the facts brought out in court, and, even if we could
not, as you say, prove everything, we could at least let the world know
what we think. No, there is no chance of his doing that, Mr. Pettigrew."
"It is fortunate for us, Miss Covington, that our clients are for the
most part men. Your sex are so impetuous and so headstrong that we
should have a hard time of it indeed if we had to take our instructions
from them."
"Mr. Pettigrew, you will please remember that there are three of my sex
in this cab, and if you malign us in this way we will at once get out
and walk."
The old lawyer smiled indulgently.
"It is quite true, my dear. Women are always passionately certain that
they are right, and neither counsel nor entreaty can get them to
believe that there can be any other side to a case than that which they
take. Talk about men ruining themselves by litigation; the number that
do so is as nothing to that of the women who would do so, were they to
get as often involved in lawsuits! When Dickens drew the man who haunted
the courts he would have been much nearer the mark had he drawn the
woman who did so. You can persuade a man that when he has been beaten in
every court his case is a lost one; but a woman simply regards a hostile
decision as the effect either of great partiality or of incompetence on
the part of the judge, and even after being beaten in the House of Lords
will attend the courts and pester the judges with applications for the
hearing of some new points. It becomes a perfect mania with some of
them."
"Very well, Mr. Pettigrew. I would certainly carry my case up to the
highest court, and if I were beaten I would not admit that I was in the
wrong; still, I do not think that I should pester the poor old judges
after that. I suppose we shall all have to come up again to-morrow to
the inquest?"
"Certainly. Nurse has recognized the clothes, and I suppose you all
recognize the marks, Miss Covington?"
"Yes; I have no doubt whatever that the clothes are Walter's."
"Of course we shall be represented by counsel," Mr. Pettigrew went on.
"We must not let the jury find that this is Walter's body if we can
possibly prevent it."
"You think that they will do so?"
"I am afraid of it. They will know nothing of the real circumstances of
the case; they will only know that the child has been missing for nearly
two months, and that, in spite of large rewards, no news has been
obtained of him. They will see that this child is about the same age,
that the clothes in which it was found are those worn by the missing
boy. They will themselves have viewed the body and have seen that
identification is almost impossible. This man will give his evidence to
the effect that he believes it to be Walter Rivington's body. We shall
give it as our opinion that it is not; that opinion being founded upon
the fact that the few patches of hair left on the head are shorter and
coarser than this was. To us this may appear decisive, but the counsel
who will, no doubt, appear for Simcoe, will very legitimately say this
fact has no weight, and will point out that no real judgment can be
formed upon this. The child was missing--probably stolen for the sake of
its clothes. Seeing the description in the handbills and placards, the
first step would be to cut off its hair, which disposes of the question
of length, and, as he will point out, hair which, when very long, seems
soft and silky, will stand up and appear almost bristly when cropped
close to the head. I am afraid that, in the face of all that we can say,
the coroner's jury will find that the body is Walter's. As to the cause
of death they will probably give an open verdict, for even if the
surgeon has found any signs of violence upon the body, these may have
been inflicted by passing barges long after death."
"Will you have it brought forward that Simcoe has an interest in proving
the body to be Walter's?"
"I think not. There would be no use in beginning the fight in the
coroner's court. It will all have to be gone into when he applies to the
higher courts for an order on the trustees of the will to proceed to
carry out its provisions. Then our case will be fully gone into. We
shall plead that in the first place the will was made under undue
influence. We shall point to the singularity of the General's mysterious
attack, an attack which one of the doctors who attended him at once put
down to poison, and that at the moment of the attack Simcoe was sitting
next to him at dinner. We shall point to the extraordinary coincidence
that the child who stood between Simcoe and the inheritance disappeared
on the evening when the General was _in extremis_, and, lastly, we shall
fire our last shot by declaring that the man is not the John Simcoe
named in the will, but is an impostor who assumed his name and traded
upon his brave action on the General's behalf.
"But I do not want the fight to begin until we are in a better position
than at present to prove what we say. As yet, however satisfactory to
us, we have not got beyond the point of conjecture and probabilities,
and I trust that, before we have to fight the case, we shall obtain some
absolute facts in support of our theory. The man would be able at
present to put into court a number of highly respectable witnesses from
Stowmarket, and of officers he has met here, who would all testify to
his being John Simcoe, and as against their evidence our conjectures
would literally go for nothing. No doubt you will all receive notices to
attend this evening. The policeman took your names and addresses, and
will have told the officer in charge of the case the nature of the
evidence you will probably give. And please remember that, in giving
evidence, you must carefully abstain from saying anything that would
lead the jury to perceive that you have any personal feeling against
Simcoe, for they would be likely to put down your declaration of
inability to recognize the body as a result of a bias against him. Do
not let it be seen that there is any personal feeling in the matter at
all."
The summonses arrived that evening and the next morning they drove to
the coroner's court, Miss Purcell accompanying them. They found Mr.
Pettigrew awaiting them at the door.
"There is another case on before ours," he said, "and I should advise
you to take a drive for half an hour, and, when you come back, to sit in
the carriage until I come for you. The waiting room is a stuffy little
place, and is at present full of witnesses in the case now on, and as
that case is one of a man killed in a drunken row, they are not of a
class whom it is pleasant to mix with."
When they returned, he again came out. "I have just spoken to the
coroner and told him who you are, and he has kindly given permission for
you to go up to his own room. The case he has now before him may last
another half hour."
It was just about that time when Mr. Pettigrew came up and said that
their case was about to commence, and that they must go down and take
their places in court. This was now almost empty; a few minutes before
it had been crowded by those interested in the proceedings, which had
terminated in the finding of manslaughter against four of those
concerned in the fray. The discovery of a child's body in the canal was
far too common an event to afford any attraction, and with the exception
of the witnesses, two counsel seated in the front line facing the
coroner, and two or three officials, there was no one in court. As soon
as the little stir caused by the return of the jury from viewing the
body had ceased, the coroner addressed them.
"We shall now, gentlemen of the jury, proceed to the case of the body of
the child said to be that of Walter Rivington, which was found under
very strange and suspicious circumstances near this end of the canal.
You will hear that the child was missing from his home in Hyde Park
Gardens on the 23d of October, and for his discovery, as some of you are
doubtless aware, large sums have been offered. The day before yesterday
the drags were used for the purpose of discovering whether another
child, who was lost, and who had been seen going near the bank, had been
drowned. In the course of that search this body was brought up. You have
already viewed it, gentlemen. Dr. MacIlvaine will tell you that it has
certainly been a month in the water, perhaps two or three weeks longer.
Unfortunately the state of the body is such that it is impossible now to
ascertain the cause of death, or whether it was alive when it fell in,
or was placed in, the water. Fortunately some of its clothes still
remain on the body, and one of the witnesses, the nurse of the missing
boy, will tell you that the marks upon them were worked by herself, and
that she can swear to them. Whether any other matters will come before
you in reference to the case, which, from the fact that the child was
grandson of the late General Mathieson and heir to his property, has
attracted much attention, I cannot say. The first witness you will hear
is the lock-keeper, who was present at the finding of the body."
Before the witness was called, however, one of the counsel rose and
said:
"I am instructed, sir, to appear to watch the proceedings on behalf of
Mr. John Simcoe, who, by the death of Walter Rivington, inherits under
the will of the late General Mathieson."
The coroner bowed. The other counsel then rose.
"And I, sir, have been instructed by Mr. Pettigrew and Colonel
Bulstrode, the trustees under the will, the former gentleman being also
joint guardian with Miss Hilda Covington of the missing child, to watch
the case on their behalf."
There was again an exchange of bows, and the lock-keeper then entered
the box. His evidence was given in few words. He simply deposed to
assisting in dragging the canal, and to the finding of the body.
"Have you any questions to ask the witness?" the coroner said, turning
to the barristers.
The counsel employed by Mr. Pettigrew rose.
"Yes, sir; I have a few questions to ask. Now, Mr. Cousins, you say that
you took part in dragging the canal. You are in charge of the drags, are
you not?"
"Yes, sir; they are always kept in readiness at the lockhouse."
"How came you to use the drags? I suppose you don't take them down and
spend a day or two in dragging the canal unless you have reason for
supposing that a body is there."
"No, sir. The afternoon before a woman came up crying and said that her
child had fallen into the water. He had gone out in the morning to play,
and when dinner-time came and he didn't return she searched everywhere
for him, and two children had just told her that they were playing with
him on the bank of the canal, and that he had fallen in. They tried to
get him out, but he sank, and they were so frightened that they ran home
without saying anything. But they thought now that they had better tell.
I said that she had better go to the police station and repeat her
statement, and they would send a constable to help me. She did that, and
came back with the policeman. It was getting late then, but we took a
boat and dragged the canal for two or three hours. The next morning she
came again, and said that the boys had shown her just where her child
fell in, and we dragged there and found this body. We brought it ashore,
and after we had carried it to the lockhouse we set to work again, but
could not find any other body."
"What became of the woman?"
"She was with us till we fetched up this body. When she saw it she ran
away crying, and did not come back again."
"You have not seen her since, Mr. Cousins?"
"No, sir; I have not seen her since. I believe the constable made
inquiries about her."
"Thank you, I have nothing more to ask."
The policeman then entered the box and gave his evidence shortly, as to
assisting in the operation of dragging and to finding the body.
"About this woman who gave the alarm," the barrister asked. "Have you
seen her, constable?"
"No, sir; not since the body was found. Thinking it strange that she did
not come back, I reported it at the station. She had given the name of
Mary Smith and an address in Old Park. I was told to go round there, but
no such person was known, and no one had heard of a child being lost. On
my reporting this, inquiries were made all round the neighborhood; but
no one had heard of such a woman, nor of a missing child."
"This is a very strange circumstance, sir, and it looks as if the whole
story of the drowning child was a fabrication. The fact that the body of
the child whose death we are considering was found close to the spot
would certainly seem to point to the fact that some person or persons
who were cognizant of the fact that this body was there were for some
reasons anxious that it should be found, and so employed this woman to
get the drags used at that point in order that the body might be brought
to light."
"It is certainly a very strange business," the coroner said, "and I hope
that the police will spare no efforts to discover this woman. However,
as she is not before us, we must proceed with the case."
Then the officer of the court called out the name of Mary Summerford,
and the nurse went into the witness box.
"I understand, Mary Sommerford, that you were nurse to Walter
Rivington?"
"I was, sir."
"Will you tell the jury when you last saw him, and how it was that he
was lost?"
She told the story as she had told it to Hilda on the day that he was
missing.
"You have seen the clothes found on the body. Do you recognize them as
those that he was wearing when you last saw him?"
"Yes, sir."
"How do you recognize them?"
"Because his initials are worked in two places. I worked them myself,
and can swear to them."
"You cannot recognize the body, nurse?"
"I do not believe it is the body of my young master," she said; "his
hair was lovely--long and silky. What hair remains on the body is very
short, and what I should call stubbly."
"But the hair might have been cut short by the people who stole him,"
the coroner said. "It is the first precaution they would take to evade
the search that would at once be set on foot."
"Yes, sir, but I don't think that it would have grown up so stiff."
"My experience of workhouse children," the coroner remarked, "is that
whatever the hair they may have had when they entered the house, it is
stiff enough to stand upright when cut close to the head. There is
nothing else, is there, which leads you to doubt the identity of the
child?"
"No, sir, I cannot say that there is; but I don't believe that it is
Master Walter's body."
Hilda, Netta, and Mr. Pettigrew all gave their evidence. The two former
stated that they identified the clothes, but, upon the same ground as
the nurse, they failed to recognize the body as that of Walter
Rivington. All were asked if they could in any way account for the
finding of the child's body there. The question had been foreseen, and
they said that, although they had used every means of discovering the
child, they had obtained no clew whatever as to his whereabouts from the
time that he was stolen to the time they were summoned to identify the
body.
"You quite assume that he was stolen, and not that he wandered away, as
children will do when their nurses are gossiping?"
"We are convinced that he was stolen, sir, because the search was begun
so momentarily after he was missed that he could hardly have got out of
sight, had he merely wandered away on foot. Notice was given to the
police an hour after he disappeared, and every street in this part of
London was scoured immediately."
"Children of that age, Miss Covington, have often a fancy for hiding
themselves; and this child may have hidden somewhere close until he saw
his nurse pass by, and then made off in the opposite direction. The spot
where the child's body was found is little more than a quarter of a mile
from the corner where he was missed. He might have wandered up there,
found himself on the canal bank, and childlike, have begun to play, and
so slipped into the water."
John Simcoe was the last witness called. He gave his evidence to the
effect that he had seen the body, and that personally he saw no reason
to doubt that it was that of Walter Rivington.
His counsel then rose.
"You are, I believe, Mr. Simcoe, owing to the death of this poor child,
the principal legatee under the will of General Mathieson?"
"I am sorry to say that I am. The whole business has caused me immense
distress. I have felt that, being the only person that would benefit by
the child's death, those who did not know me would have a suspicion that
I might have had a hand in his mysterious disappearance."
"You have taken an active part in the search for him?"
"I offered a reward of one thousand pounds for any information that
would lead to his discovery, and I believe that I have traveled up and
down every obscure slum in London in hopes of lighting upon him."
"Even without the provision in the will which made you next heir you
benefited by it, did you not?"
"I did, most munificently. General Mathieson had himself informed me
that I should find, by his will, that he had not been ungrateful for a
service that I rendered him many years ago; but I was not aware of the
sum that he had left me. As to the distant contingency of inheriting in
case of the child's death, I was altogether ignorant of it; but had I
known it, it would in no way have affected me. The little fellow was a
fine healthy child, and, therefore, the thought that he might not live
to come of age would never have entered my mind."
As the other counsel had no question to ask, the evidence was now
concluded.
"Well, gentlemen, you have heard the evidence," the coroner said. "Dr.
MacIlvaine has told you, as indeed you might judge for yourselves on
viewing the body, that it is impossible, in its advanced state of
decomposition, to say whether the child was alive or dead at the time he
fell, or was placed in the canal. As to who were the guilty persons who
beguiled the child away, if he was beguiled, we have no shadow of
evidence, and it may well be that he was stolen for the sake of his
clothes. The cutting short of his hair certainly points to the truth of
this theory, as does also the fact that no vestige has been found of his
upper clothing. It is probable that some woman enticed him away, and
kept him for some time with her, and then, when she became alarmed by
the search made for him, carried him in his sleep from the house, and
perhaps laid him down by the canal, thinking that he would be found
there in the morning, and that the poor child awoke in the dark,
wandered about, and fell into the canal.
"However, this is only theory; but it is at least supported by the
mysterious incident of the unknown woman who, by means of a tale which
appears beyond doubt to have been wholly fictitious, caused the water at
that spot to be dragged. The fact that on the second day she pointed out
almost the exact point where the body was found would seem to show that
the child could scarcely have fallen in the water, as she suggested, for
in that case she could not have known the precise spot. It would seem,
then, more likely that either the child died a natural death, perhaps
from confinement or bad treatment, or possibly that, terribly alarmed at
the search that was being maintained, he was put out of the way and then
thrown into the canal at this spot. In that case we may admit that it is
certainly strange that she should risk discovery by the course she took,
and I can only account for it on the ground that she had been, ever
since his death, suffering from remorse, and possibly she may have
thought that she might in some sort of way atone for her conduct were
she to point out where the child was, and so secure for him Christian
burial. That, however, is not before us at present, and I see no
advantage in an adjournment for an indefinite time until this mystery is
solved. The police have taken the matter in hand, and will spare no
pains to discover the woman. If they do so, undoubtedly proceedings will
be taken in another court. The point that we have to consider is who
this child was, and how he came to his death. Unfortunately we are
absolutely without any evidence of what became of him from the time he
got lost up to the discovery of his body, and I think that you cannot do
otherwise than find an open verdict.
"As to the question of identity, there can, I think, be no shadow of
doubt. The clothes in which he was found prove him beyond question to
have been Walter Rivington, although the body itself is absolutely
beyond identification. I do not think that you need give any weight to
the nurse's failure to recognize him, or to her opinion about the hair.
She is naturally reluctant to acknowledge, even to herself, that the
child which was lost by her inadvertence is dead, and the ladies would
be equally reluctant to admit that all hope was over."
The jury put their heads together, and there was evidently no difference
of opinion, for in two or three minutes they sat down again and the
foreman stood up.
"You have decided on your verdict?" the coroner asked.
"We have, sir. We find that the body is that of Walter Rivington, and
that he was found dead in the canal, but how he came there and by what
means he came by his death, there is no evidence to show."
"Thank you, gentlemen; that is precisely the verdict that I should
myself have given."