He should show, he went on, how prisoner had come to Battisford disguised, how he had put up at "The Silver Fleece Inn" in that town, under the pseudonym of Robert Durnford, and had laid his plans and watched his opportunity, and having lured his brother to a lonely spot upon the cliffs between that town and Wandsborough, had there done him to death in the darkness of night, as he thought, unseen by human eye. Then counsel proceeded to call his first evidence. This was given, in succession, by those who had found the body, two or three fishermen from Minchkil. These were examined by Benham's junior, and their evidence being purely technical, they were soon disposed of. They were followed by the medical man who had testified at the inquest, and who declared now, as he had declared then, and unhesitatingly, that death was due to drowning. There were marks of bruises on the body, but not such as would cause death, or even contribute to that result. There was a stir of sensation among the densely-packed crowd as Mr Benham called for his next witness, for this was no other than Mrs Dorrien, the General's widow. A tall figure in deep black made its way to the witness-box with rapid, but firm, steps. A chair was placed for her by direction of the judge. Then, as Mrs Dorrien slowly removed her heavy veil, her glance fell upon her surviving son; that son, whom she had never seen since he left his father's house those years ago. Then they had parted in coldness, if not in anger. Now they met again thus, the mother and the son. Roland met her eyes firmly, and there was no sign of shrinking in his mien. Her face was pale as death, but stern, impassive and determined as his own. In it there appeared not a trace of pity. "Pray be seated, Mrs Dorrien," said Mr Benham in his suavest tone, when the witness had been sworn. "We shall endeavour to spare you unnecessary pain. All we want you to tell us are the circumstances under which your son Hubert was first missed." Concisely, in a low, set tone, the widow complied. Aided now and again by a question from the judge, she stated how Hubert had left home to attend evening service at Cranston, how he had not returned, and how, on the following morning, being alarmed, she had told her husband, who had at once instituted a search, heading it in person--but without effect. "One thing more, Mrs Dorrien," said Mr Benham, "and we shall have done. Had you any reason to suspect your eldest son, the accused, was anywhere in the neighbourhood?" "None whatever." "Any questions, Mr Windgate?" asked the judge sharply. "N-no, m'lord," replied the prisoner's advocate. "At least, yes," jumping up. "Just one. Will you kindly tell us, Mrs Dorrien, were your two sons, Roland and Hubert, on good terms?" "They had never quarrelled." "They had never quarrelled," making a note. "That is to say, they were on good terms."