"Well, `crushed' then," went on Mr Benham suavely. "My learned friend
shall have no reason to complain of undue pressure on our part. Well,
and what did you think then, Mr Ingelow?"
"I thought there was no doubt about his having fallen into the chasm."
"Fallen in?"
"Yes."
"You had no suspicion then of foul play?"
"Not the slightest. I never heard that anyone had."
"Oh, you never heard that anyone had!" said Mr Benham quickly, catching
up the statement in just the way to embarrass and disconcert a nervous
witness. And Eustace, remembering sundry cautions he had received in
private about _volunteering_ evidence, felt disconcerted accordingly.
His narrative of the descent of Smugglers' Ladder evoked considerable
applause, for the ill-omened chasm was well known by reputation. He
stated how he had found nothing on reaching the bottom.
"Nothing, Mr Ingelow? Come, just cast your memory back."
"Well, I mean I found nothing of importance, only a little matchbox,"
"Ah-h! Two years and a half is a long time to look back across at your
age," said Mr Benham kindly, hitching his thumbs into the shoulders of
his gown and looking smilingly superior. "Now, what did you do with
this little matchbox?"
"I handed it to Mr Curtis."
"Is this it?"
"Yes."
There was a visible cloud on Eustace's face as he held the silver
matchbox in his hand, as if it would burn him. Heads craned forward to
catch a glimpse of the article.
"Had you ever seen that matchbox before you found it at the bottom of--
er--Smugglers' Ladder," asked Mr Benham impressively.
"I think so."
"Where did you see it?"
"I had seen it--er--I had seen Roland use it."
"You had see Roland Dorrien use it. How many times? Once--twice--
perhaps?"
"I can't remember exactly how many times."
"No? You used often to--well--to have a pipe together, no doubt?"
"Yes."
"And Roland Dorrien was in the habit of using that matchbox?"
"Yes."
"In fact, you are under the impression it belonged to him?"
"Yes."
"Now, Mr Ingelow--you are on your oath, mind. Is this, or is it not,
the same matchbox which you saw in the prisoner's possession?"
"I can't positively swear to it. It is like it, certainly."
"Yet it is of very peculiar make."
"The witness says he can't swear to it, Mr Benham," interposed the
judge. "Don't you think we might drop the matchbox now?"
"Certainly, my lord. I have nothing further to ask."
"Nor I, my lord," said Windgate. And Eustace, to his unspeakable
relief, was told to stand down, which relief was dashed by a miserable
misgiving that he had somehow or other materially damaged his relative's
chances.