Then the girl went on to tell her story, how she and Hubert Dorrien had been fellow-passengers on board the homeward-bound Australian liner which had arrived in the small hours of that morning. She was with a troupe of variety artistes, who had been touring in the Antipodes, and had not been aware of the missing man's presence on board until they had been some time at sea. Then they had recognised each other, and had become acquainted, in fact, friendly. He had told her how he had fallen over the cliffs near Wandsborough, and been picked up while still unconscious by a coasting schooner, and pretty badly treated, too, he said, for they took everything he had away from him. But the ship was run into by an unknown steamer and sank, only he and another man being saved, and they, after floating about on some wreckage for hours, were picked up by a sailing vessel bound for Perth, Western Australia. She believed that he had done well over there, for he seemed to have plenty of money, and looked twice the man he was as she remembered him at Cranston, prior to his disappearance. The first that either of them had heard of the trial just concluded, was on landing that morning at Plymouth, where Hubert Dorrien had taken up his quarters at the "Duke of Cornwall." They first saw it in the papers, and as she herself was from Cranston, Hubert had begged her to travel down there with him in order to give evidence as to his identity. He was in a great state of excitement about it all, and in crossing the road, close to his hotel, had been knocked down by a post-office van, and now he was laid up there with a broken leg, but had escaped other injuries. As he was all alone she had remained to look after him, and see that he had proper medical and other attendance. Then he had hurried her off to Battisford to put a stop to the trial, and save all concerned a moment of further and unnecessary anxiety. This she had done, and was here, it appeared, only just in the nick of time. She had told her story well and concisely, and it had been listened to in breathless silence. The judge, keenly watching her, was convinced of its truth, so too was the Bar. As she herself had said, there could be no possible advantage to anybody in her coming forward with such a statement unless it could be substantiated. Steps had already been taken to break the news to old Mrs Dorrien, the injured man's mother, who was probably on her way to Plymouth by that time. All Cranston, moreover, would recognise him at a glance. There was no difficulty whatever about that. But his lordship, while believing her statement, swerved not a hairsbreadth from his original and private opinion. He was as certain that the prisoner had, in actual fact, pushed his brother over the cliff, as he now was that the latter had been rescued, in a most astonishing and well-nigh miraculous manner. But meanwhile the jury had returned a verdict of "Guilty."