“When did you last see Whyte!”

Brian answered with great reluctance, “I saw him drunk by the Scotch Church.”

“What! you were the man who hailed the hansom?”

“Yes,” assented the other, hesitating slightly, “I was!”

The thought flashed through Calton’s brain as to whether the young man before him was guilty or not, and he was obliged to confess that things looked very black against him.

“Then what the newspapers said was correct?”

“Partly.”

“Ah!” Calton drew a long breath—­here was a ray of hope.

“You did not know it was Whyte when you found him lying drunk near the Scotch Church?”

“No, I did not.  Had I known it was he I would not have picked him up.”

“Of course, you recognised him afterwards?”

“Yes I did.  And, as the paper stated, I dropped him and walked away.”

“Why did you leave him so abruptly?”

Brian looked at his questioner in some surprise.

“Because I detested him,” he said, shortly.

“Why did you detest him?”

No answer.  “Was it because he admired Miss Frettlby, and from all appearances, was going to marry her?”

“Well, yes,” sullenly.

“And now,” said Calton, impressively, “this is the whole point upon which the case turns.  Why did you get into the cab with him?”

“I did not get into the cab.”

“The cabman declares that you did.”

“He is wrong.  I never came back after I recognised Whyte.”

“Then who was the man who got into the cab with Whyte?”

“I don’t know.”

“You have no idea?”

“Not the least.”

“You are certain?”

“Yes, perfectly certain.”

“He seems to have been dressed exactly like you.”

“Very probably.  I could name at least a dozen of my acquaintances who wear light coats over their evening dress, and soft hats.”

“Do you know if Whyte had any enemies?”

“No, I don’t; I know nothing about him, beyond that he came from England a short time ago with a letter of introduction to Mr. Frettlby, and had the impertinence to ask Madge to marry him.”

“Where did Whyte live?”

“Down in St. Kilda, at the end of Grey Street.”

“How do you know?”

“It was in the papers, and—­and—­” hesitatingly, “I called on him.”

“Why?”

“To see if he would cease his attentions to Madge, and to tell him that she was engaged to me.”

“And what did he say?”

“Laughed at me.  Curse him.”

“You had high words, evidently?”

Brian laughed bitterly.

“Yes, we had.”

“Did anyone hear you?”

“The landlady did, I think.  I saw her in the passage as I left the house.”

“The prosecution will bring her forward as a witness.”

“Very likely,” indifferently.