"This stranger--this Mr Robert Durnford--gave you an address, you say-- a London address? Did you ever apply at that address?" "It was only a post-office address. I lost no time in writing to him at it." "What was the address?" "It was some London post office. The name of the post office has clean escaped my memory." "You wrote to him. And you received no reply?" "Pardon me. I did receive one." "May I ask to what effect?" "To the effect that the writer was on the eve of departure to New South Wales, and regretting that therefore our further acquaintance must remain in abeyance perhaps for years--also expressing gratification at having been instrumental in my daughter's escape. It was a courteous and kindly letter. I have heard nothing of him since." "Quite so, Dr Ingelow--quite so. Have you still that letter in your possession?" "No. I have destroyed it, among other old papers." "Lately?" "N-no. It must be quite a year ago." "Now, you are on your oath, Dr Ingelow. You have not destroyed that letter since your son-in-law's arrest?" "Your reminder is needless, sir. Nevertheless, for your greater satisfaction I will reiterate that the letter was destroyed quite a year ago." "Well, well. Now did it strike you at the time that any similarity existed between that stranger and the prisoner, Roland Dorrien?" "It did not." "No resemblance whatever? Voice--walk--manner? Come. Think again, my dear sir." "Unnecessary. I saw no such resemblance." "Has it ever struck you since?" "It has not." "You have never had reason to suspect that Robert Durnford, the rescuer of your daughter on that occasion, might have been Roland Dorrien in disguise?" "I never have." "You distinctly swear to that?" "Distinctly." "Don't you think, Mr Benham, you've got out of this witness all you're likely to get?" said the judge snappishly. "I have just put my last question, m'lord," was the suave reply. "Thank you, Dr Ingelow." And Mr Benham sat down, more nonplussed than he cared to show. Mr Windgate rose. "I should be glad, my lord, if you would kindly make a note of the fact that this witness has three times distinctly sworn that no identity existed between the stranger, Robert Durnford, and my client, Roland Dorrien." "Er--twice I think, Mr Windgate," said the judge. "Pardon me, my lord. Three times. If your lordship will glance back a few folios. This gentleman stated earlier in his evidence that from August till the following June he had not set eyes on the prisoner. Now, the young lady's adventure befel in February, between those months. Therefore the statement amounts to a denial of the identity." "Very well, Mr Windgate." "Thank you, m'lord. I do not require to cross-examine." So the rector stood down. Mr Windgate was jubilant. The evidence just heard was all in his client's favour.