The next to enter the box was Johnston, the ex-Cranston gardener. His testimony went to show that the prisoner was identical with Robert Durnford, so-called, the mysterious guest at "The Silver Fleece Inn." He swore positively to having recognised his late master in the disguised stranger, when the latter had passed him in the street at Battisford. He further deposed to having taken subsequent opportunities of observing the pseudo-Durnford unknown to the subject of his observation, and was quite satisfied on the point of the identity between the two. Things began to look dark for the prisoner, but they were destined to look darker still. When he had satisfied himself as to the identity of the accused with the stranger staying at "The Silver Fleece" in Battisford--he said-- suspicion first entered his mind, and it grew stronger and stronger. Nor was it difficult to account for the fact that the one should be in the neighbourhood disguised at the very time the other met his death; the more so as the prisoner would be the gainer by his brother's death, and in fact was the gainer. From that time, he had laid himself out to watch the prisoner--and once had overheard some fragments of the tatter's conversation with Dr Ingelow, which had more than ever convinced him of the truth of his suspicions. Then Devine had begun to let fall hints as if he knew something about the matter, and, finally, the two of them had concluded to wait upon Mr Forsyth, one of the county justices, and get his advice. In the result each made a statement. That of Johnston was now put in, and read nut. He had nothing to withdraw or add to it, he said; and then Mr Benham eat down. But the revengeful half-grin on the face of the witness turned to rather a blank look as the defence began upon him in cross-examination. Beginning with the subject of identity, Mr Windgate tried all he knew to make Johnston own to a possibility of mistake. Then he went on the "bewilderment" plan, but the long-headed Scot was not to be floored in that way, nor could he be made to contradict himself. The vindictive rascal was precision personified. But when it came to the eavesdropping story, Mr Windgate's tone was magnificent in its scathing contempt. "Kindly tell the Court the date of your going to Mr--er--Forsyth--the magistrate?" "It was last month. About the 15th." "About the 15th of last month." "Yes." "You had then left Mr Dorrien's service?" "I had." "How long had you left it?" "About six weeks." "Why did you leave it?" "Mr Roland turned me off." "Oh! Mr Roland turned you off, did he? Now have the goodness to tell us why?" "Well, it was just this way. He thocht I wasn't speaking respectfully to Madam. So he turned me off." "Now, be very careful. You are on your oath, mind. Penal servitude is among the consequences of perjury." Mr Benham to the rescue.