Considerable disappointment prevailed among the audience at the conclusion to which Dr Ingelow's examination had been so abruptly brought. They looked for something far more exciting. Meanwhile, another witness was being sworn. "Your name is George Newton?" queried Mr Benham, "and you are a waiter at Welbrook's Tavern, in the Strand?" "Yes, sir." "Have you been long in that situation?" "About nine years." "Now, look at the prisoner. Have you ever seen him before?" "Yes," replied the witness unhesitatingly. "When?" "Well, that I can't exactly say, sir. It might be a year or two ago. He came in one night to have some dinner--and seemed a bit flurried like. The first thing he did was to ask for an A.B.C. time-table. We 'adn't got one in the 'ouse, and the gentleman seemed rather put out about it." "And then?" "Well then, sir, we sent out and got him one." "Now, just cast your memory back and see if you can tell us what day it was." But this the witness could not do. He could swear most decidedly to the accused's identity, but for dates he had no recollection. The month on the A.B.C. was January. "The gentleman seemed a bit queer," he went on. "He seemed to make a great point about getting the A.B.C., and then when he goes out what does he do but leave it behind!" "Did you examine it?" "Yes, sir. One of the pages had a corner turned down, and it was marked at Wandsborough Road station." "You have it with you?" "Yes, sir. Here it is." And the witness, fumbling in his pocket, produced the time-table which Roland Dorrien had forgotten and left behind him at the tavern in the Strand, on the night of his chance meeting with his brother. It was even as the man had said--turned down and marked at Wandsborough Road station. "Did you draw anyone else's attention to this circumstance?" "Yes, sir. One of the other waiters, Tom Short." "Where is he?" "He's been dead these six or eight months." "And you are ready to swear that the prisoner is the gentleman who left this with you?" "Yes, sir." Mr Benham sat down, and Mr Windgate rose to cross-examine. He seemed determined to make up for having hitherto been debarred his privilege in that line, for he assailed the witness in the most pitiless manner. But it was of no use. The man's evidence was straightforward enough, and he stuck to it, especially the identity--as to which he was calm certainty itself. All present felt that its burden was of damning import.