“Questioned by the coroner, she added that Mr. Beddingfield had never stayed away quite so long without having his letters forwarded to him.  There was a large pile waiting for him now; she had written to the Great Western Hotel, London, asking what she should do about the letters, but had received no reply.  She did not know the messenger by sight who had called for the portmanteau.  Once or twice before Mr. Beddingfield had sent for his things in that manner when he had been dining out.

“Mr. Beddingfield certainly wore his Inverness cape over his dress clothes when he went out at about six o’clock in the afternoon.  He also wore a Glengarry cap.

“The messenger had so far not yet been found, and from this point—­namely, the sending for the portmanteau—­all traces of Mr. Timothy Beddingfield seem to have been lost.  Whether he went up to London by that 9.35 train or not could not be definitely ascertained.  The police had questioned at least a dozen porters at the railway, as well as ticket collectors; but no one had any special recollection of a gentleman in an Inverness cape and Glengarry cap, a costume worn by more than one first-class passenger on a cold night in September.

“There was the hitch, you see; it all lay in this.  Mr. Timothy Beddingfield, the lawyer, had undoubtedly made himself scarce.  He was last seen in company with the deceased, and wearing an Inverness cape and Glengarry cap; two or three witnesses saw him leaving the hotel at about 9.15.  Then the messenger calls at the lawyer’s house for the portmanteau, after which Mr. Timothy Beddingfield seems to vanish into thin air; but—­and that is a great ’but’—­the night porter at the ‘Castle’ seems to have seen some one wearing the momentous Inverness and Glengarry half an hour or so later on, and going up to deceased’s room, where he stayed about a quarter of an hour.

“Undoubtedly you will say, as every one said to themselves that day after the night porter and Mrs. Higgins had been heard, that there was a very ugly and very black finger which pointed unpleasantly at Mr. Timothy Beddingfield, especially as that gentleman, for some reason which still required an explanation, was not there to put matters right for himself.  But there was just one little thing—­a mere trifle, perhaps—­which neither the coroner nor the jury dared to overlook, though, strictly speaking, it was not evidence.

“You will remember that when the night porter was asked if he could, among the persons present in court, recognize the Hon. Robert de Genneville’s belated visitor, every one had noticed his hesitation, and marked that the man’s eyes had rested doubtingly upon the face and figure of the young Earl of Brockelsby.

“Now, if that belated visitor had been Mr. Timothy Beddingfield—­tall, lean, dry as dust, with a bird-like beak and clean-shaven chin—­no one could for a moment have mistaken his face—­even if they only saw it very casually and recollected it but very dimly—­with that of young Lord Brockelsby, who was florid and rather short—­the only point in common between them was their Saxon hair.