"Well, this wasn't like Mr. Mallett's handkerchiefs. He has dozens of them, nearly all fancy ones, with coloured borders. This was a very fine cambric handkerchief--I'd never seen one like it before. But, still, I wasn't certain that it wasn't Mr. Mallett's after all."

"Why?"

"Because sometimes when Mr. Mallett was away for the day he'd buy a spare handkerchief--he's a lot of odd handkerchiefs that he's brought home in his pockets. I thought this might have been got that way."

"You didn't mention its presence to anybody?"

"No--I didn't think of it."

"Well, what did you do with the handkerchief about which you were doubtful?"

"I laid it on top of one of several piles of handkerchiefs that were in Mr. Mallett's handkerchief drawer in the dressing-room."

"Why did you put it on top?"

"In case any inquiry was made about it from Marriners' Laundry."

"Was any inquiry made?"

"No."

"Now was that drawer you have just spoken of the drawer that you pulled open for Mr. Krevin Crood?"

"Yes."

"Was the handkerchief there then?"

"Yes, it was there!"

"You saw it?"

"I saw it."

"Have you ever seen it since?"

"Never!"

"Do you know if Mr. Krevin Crood took it out of the drawer?"

"No!"

"Did you see it in his possession that evening?"

"No! I didn't. But it wasn't in the drawer next morning."

"You are sure of that?"

"Positive. I went into Mr. Mallett's dressing-room very early next morning, and I noticed that Mr. Krevin had left the drawers half-open.

The handkerchief drawer stuck a little, and I pulled it right out before pushing it in. I noticed then that the handkerchief had gone."

"Did you conclude that Mr. Krevin had taken it?"

"No, I don't think so. I didn't conclude anything. If I thought anything, it would be that Mr. Mallett had taken it. Mr. Mallett would think nothing of taking half a dozen handkerchiefs a day."

"But the handkerchief was there when you opened the drawer for Mr.

Krevin that evening, and it wasn't there when you looked into the drawer next morning early? That so?"

"Yes, that's so."

"Very well! Now then, about this little dinner. Mr. Mallett had three guests, Mr. Simon Crood, Mr. Krevin Crood, Mr. Coppinger? n.o.body else?"

"No; no one else."

"Was it a nice dinner?"

"It was a very good dinner."

"Wine?"

"There were several sorts of wine."

"What time was dinner?"

"About a quarter-past seven."

"And what time did the gentlemen rise from table?"

"They didn't rise from table. When dinner was over, Mr. Mallett decanted some very special port that he has in the wine-cellar, and they settled down to it round the dinner-table, talking."

"I see. Did you hear any of the conversation?"

"No, I didn't. I carried two decanters of the port into the dining-room for Mr. Mallett, and got out port gla.s.ses from the sideboard, and after that I never went into the room again."

"Until what hour did Mr. Mallett's guests remain with him?"

"Well, Alderman Crood and Mr. Krevin Crood left at about a quarter to eleven. They went away together. Mr. Coppinger stopped till about half-past eleven."

Meeking paused at this point, put his hand underneath the papers which lay in front of him and produced a cardboard box. From this, after slowly undoing various wrappings, he took the fragment of stained and charred handkerchief which had been found in the Mayor's Parlour, and pa.s.sed it across to the witness.

"Take that in your hand and look at it carefully," he said. "Now, do you recognize that as part of the handkerchief to which I have been referring?"

"It's the same sort of stuff," replied Louisa. "I should say it was part of that handkerchief. It's just like it."

"Same material?--an unusual material?"

"I think it is the same handkerchief. It's an unusually broad hem--I noticed that at the time."

"To the best of your belief is that the handkerchief you've been talking about?"