On the afternoon of the day before the opening of the proceedings we had two new visitors.  One of them, a grey-haired spectacled man, was a stranger to me, and for some reason I failed to recall his name, Copland, though I was sure I had heard it before.  The other was Anstey, the barrister who usually worked with Thorndyke in cases that went into Court.  I saw very little of either of them, however, for they retired almost immediately to the loft, where, with short intervals for meals, they remained for the rest of the day, and, I believe, far into the night.  Thorndyke requested me not to mention the names of his visitors to anyone, and at the same time apologized for the secrecy of his proceedings.

“But you are a doctor, Jervis,” he concluded, “and you know what professional confidences are; and you will understand how greatly it is in our favour that we know exactly what the prosecution can do, while they are absolutely in the dark as to our line of defence.”

I assured him that I fully understood his position, and with this assurance he retired, evidently relieved, to the council chamber.

The proceedings, which opened on the following day, and at which I was present throughout, need not be described in detail.  The evidence for the prosecution was, of course, mainly a repetition of that given at the inquest.  Mr. Bashfield’s opening statement, however, I shall give at length, inasmuch as it summarized very clearly the whole of the case against the prisoner.

“The case that is now before the Court,” said the counsel, “involves a charge of wilful murder against the prisoner Alfred Draper, and the facts, in so far as they are known, are briefly these:  On the night of Monday, the 27th of September, the deceased, Charles Hearn, dined with some friends on board the yacht Otter.  About midnight he came ashore, and proceeded to walk towards Sundersley along the beach.  As he entered St. Bridget’s Bay, a man, who appears to have been lying in wait, and who came down the Shepherd’s Path, met him, and a deadly struggle seems to have taken place.  The deceased received a wound of a kind calculated to cause almost instantaneous death, and apparently fell down dead.

“And now, what was the motive of this terrible crime?  It was not robbery, for nothing appears to have been taken from the corpse.  Money and valuables were found, as far as is known, intact.  Nor, clearly, was it a case of a casual affray.  We are, consequently, driven to the conclusion that the motive was a personal one, a motive of interest or revenge, and with this view the time, the place, and the evident deliberateness of the murder are in full agreement.