“Of course not. The thing’s as clear as daylight,” said the squire, heartily. “Perhaps, Sir Harry, you will kindly send for Mrs. Potts,” said Tom. “I should like you to hear the corroboration of my story from her lips, while I am here.” “Drayton, send one of your men with my compliments to Mrs. Potts, and——” “Beg pardon, Sir Harry,” said Drayton, with some confusion, “but I found out two or three days ago, in consequence of certain private inquiries made by me, that what Mr. Bristow says about Mrs. Potts and the clock is quite true. According to that clock, Mr. Bristow, on the night of the escape, was at home at eleven to the minute.” “What on earth do you mean, Drayton?” said Sir Harry, growing very red in the face. “If you knew all this before, why let me send for Mr. Bristow? If what you say is true, there is no case whatever against this gentleman, and I can only apologize to him for having brought him here at all.” Drayton turned very white, but he was a man not easily put down. “Such things have been known,” he said, “as clock fingers being put either backward or forward so as to suit people’s own convenience.” “Drayton, you are a bigger fool than I took you to be,” said Sir Harry, irately, “and I never had a very high opinion of your brains.” Drayton, metaphorically speaking, sank into his boots. “As it happens,” said Tom, “I am in a position to offer you a still stronger confirmation of the impossibility of my having had anything to do with effecting the escape of Mr. Dering.” “We shall be very happy, Mr. Bristow, to listen to anything you have to say,” said Sir Harry, politely. “Then I must ask you, Sir Harry, to kindly answer me one or two questions,” said Tom. “As many as you like, Mr. Bristow.” “Were not you yourself in Duxley till rather a late hour on the night of the escape?” “I was. I did not leave the White Bear till nearly ten o’clock.” “Precisely so. You and your son together in your dog-cart. When you reached Deadman’s Hollow—you know the place I mean; that deep cutting in the road about two miles out of Duxley, where the trees, planted thick on both sides, nearly meet overhead?” “I know the place you mean,” said Sir Harry. “When you reached that spot, you did not see a man sitting on a broken bit of wall in the gloomiest part of the road?” “I certainly did not.” “He had been taking a constitutional by starlight. The night was close and oppressive, and he had sat down, hat in hand, to gather breath before climbing the opposite hill. “I certainly did not see the person to whom you allude.” “But he saw you, Sir Harry. He saw you come to a dead stop within a dozen yards of where he was sitting. One of the traces had suddenly given way. You got down to ascertain what was the matter, and as you did so, you made use of a rather strong expression. Would you like me, Sir Harry, to repeat the exact words made use of by you on the occasion in question?”