"Yes," declared Louisa Speck, this time without hesitation. "It is!"

Meeking sat down and glanced at Simon Crood's solicitor. Stedman accepted the challenge and, rising, threw some scornful meaning into his first question to the witness.

"Who got you to tell all this tale?" he asked satirically. "Who got at you?"

Louisa Speck bridled.

"n.o.body got at me!" she retorted. "What do you mean by such a question?"

"You don't mean to tell their Worships that you haven't been induced to come forward and tell all this?" suggested Stedman incredulously. "Come, now! Who helped you to refresh your memory, and to put all this together?"

"n.o.body helped me," replied Louisa Speck, with rising indignation. "Do you think I'm not capable of doing things on my own? I can use my eyes and ears as well as you can--and perhaps better!"

"Answer my question!" said Stedman, as a laugh rose against him. "Who got you to go to the police?"

"n.o.body got me to go to the police! I went to the police on my own account. I read the newspaper about what took place at the inquest--the last inquest, I mean--and as soon as I heard about the handkerchief, I knew very well that that was the one I'd noticed in our laundry, and so I went to see Mr. Hawthwaite. Mr. Hawthwaite's known what I had to tell you for a good while now."

Stedman was taken aback. But he put a definite question.

"On your oath, did you see that handkerchief in Mr. Krevin Crood's possession that night he was at Mr. Mallett's?" he asked.

"I've already told him I never did," retorted Louisa Speck, pointing at Meeking. "I didn't see him with it. But I'm very certain he got it!"

Stedman waved the witness away, and Meeking proceeded to put in the depositions taken before the Coroner in regard to the finding of the fragment of handkerchief and its ownership, and called evidence to show that the piece just produced was that which had been picked up from the hearth in the Mayor's Parlour on the evening of the murder, soon after the finding of the dead man, and to prove that it had remained in the custody of the police ever since. The fragment went the round of the bench of magistrates, and Tansley whispered to Brent that if Meeking could prove that Krevin Crood had taken that handkerchief out of Mallett's drawer, and had thrown it away on the following evening in the Mayor's Parlour, Krevin's neck was in danger.

"But there's a link missing yet," he murmured. "How did Krevin get at Wallingford? They've got to prove that! However, Meeking's evidently well primed and knows what he's after. What's coming next?"

What came next was the glancing of the barrister's eye towards a venerable, grey-bearded man who sat in the front row of spectators, leaning on a gold-headed cane. He rose as Meeking looked at him, and came slowly forward--a curious figure in those sombre surroundings.

CHAPTER XXIII

THE CONNECTING WALL

From a certain amount of whispering and nodding that went on around him, Brent gathered that this ancient gentleman was not unknown to many of those present. But Tansley was turning to him, ready as always with information.

"That's old Dr. Pellery," he whispered. "Old Dr. Septimus Pellery.

Tremendous big pot on antiquarianism, archaeology, and that sort of stuff. Used to live here in Hathelsborough, years ago, when I was a youngster. I should have thought he was dead, long since! Wonder where they unearthed him, and what he's here for? No end of a swell, in his own line anyway."

Meeking seemed determined to impress on the court the character and extent of Dr. Pellery's qualifications as an expert in archaeological matters. Addressing him in an almost reverential manner, he proceeded to enumerate the witness's distinctions.

"Dr. Pellery, you are, I believe, a Fellow of the Society of Antiquaries?"

"I have that honour."

"And a member of more than one archaeological society?"

"I am."

"And a corresponding member of various foreign societies of a similar sort?"

"For many years."

"You are also, I think, a Doctor of Civil Law of the University of Oxford?"

"Yes."

"And the author of many books and articles on your pet subject--archaeology?"

"That is so."

"Am I right, Dr. Pellery, in believing that you are thoroughly well acquainted with the archaeology, antiquities, and ancient architecture of this town?"

"Quite right. I lived here for several years--ten or eleven years."

"That was--when?"

"It is about twenty years since I left this place."

"You made a close study of it while you were resident here?"

"A very close study. Hathelsborough, from my point of view, is one of the most deeply interesting towns in England. While I lived here I acc.u.mulated a vast ma.s.s of material respecting its history and antiquities, with the idea of writing a monograph on the borough. But I have never made use of it."

"Let us hope that you will still do so, Dr. Pellery," said Meeking, with a suave smile and polite bow.

But Dr. Pellery shook his head and stroked his long beard. A cynical smile played round his wrinkled eyes.

"No, I don't think I ever shall," he said. "Indeed, I'm sure I shan't!"

"May I ask why?"

"You may! Because there aren't twenty people in Hathelsborough who would buy such a book. Hathelsborough people don't care twopence about the history of their old town--all they care about is money. This case is a proof!"

"I think we'll get back to the case," said Meeking, amidst a ripple of laughter. "Well, we may consider you as the greatest living expert on Hathelsborough anyway, Dr. Pellery, and eminently fitted to give us some very important evidence. Do you know the ancient church of St. Lawrence at the back of this Moot Hall?"

"Ay, as well as I know my own face in the gla.s.s!" answered Dr. Pellery with a short laugh. "Every stone of it!"

"It is, I believe, a very old church?"

"It is the oldest church, not only in Hathelsborough, which is saying a good deal, but in all this part of the county," replied the witness with emphasis. "St. Hathelswide, the parish church, is old, but St. Lawrence ante-dates it by at least five hundred years. The greater part of St.

Lawrence, as it now stands, was complete in the eighth century: St.

Hathelswide was built in the thirteenth."

Meeking produced a large chart, evidently made for the occasion, and had it set up on the table, in full view of the bench and the witness-box.