Sir Stanley pursed his lips thoughtfully and turned his attention to the prosecuting counsel. The address was not a long one, and presently the Attorney-General sat down, to be followed by a leading member of the Bar, retained for the defence. Presently he too had finished, and again the Attorney-General rose. "Call Olaf Hanson," he said, and there was a stir of excitement. The door leading to the cells opened, and two tall detectives came through, and two others followed. In the midst of the four walked the short, grey-faced man, in whose hands was the fate, and indeed the life, of Colonel Dan Boundary. He did not as much as glance at the dock, but hurried across the floor of the court and was ushered to the witness stand, his four guardians disposing themselves behind and before him. The man seemed on the point of crumbling. His fear-full eyes ranged the court, always avoiding the gross figure in the railed dock. The lips of the witness were white and trembling. The hands which clutched the front of the box for support twitched spasmodically. "Your name is Olaf Hanson?" asked the Attorney-General soothingly. The witness tried to speak but his lips emitted no sound. He nodded. "You are a native of Christiania?" Again Hanson nodded. "You must speak out," said Counsel kindly, "and you need have no fear. How long have you known Colonel Boundary?" This time Hanson found his voice. "For ten years," he said huskily. An usher came forward from the press at the back of the court with a glass of water and handed it to the witness, who drank eagerly. Counsel waited until he had drained the glass before he spoke again. "You have in your possession certain documentary evidence convicting Colonel Boundary of certain malpractices?" "Yes," said the witness. "You have promised the police that you will reveal in court where those documents have been stored?" "Yes," said Hanson again. "Will you tell the court now, in order that the police may lose as little time as possible, where you have hidden that evidence?" Colonel Boundary was showing the first signs of interest he had evinced in the proceedings. He leaned forward, his head craned round as though endeavouring to catch the eye of the witness. Hanson was speaking, and speaking with difficulty. "I haf--put those papers,"--he stopped and swayed--"I haf put those papers----" he began again, and then, without a second's warning, he fell limply forward. "I am afraid he has fainted," said the magistrate. Detectives were crowding round the witness, and had lifted him from the witness stand. One said something hurriedly, and Stafford King left his seat. He was bending over the prostrate figure, tearing open the collar from his throat, and presently was joined by the police surgeon, who was in court. There was a little whispered consultation, and then Stafford King straightened himself up and his face was pale and hard. "I regret to inform your Worship," he said, "that the witness is dead."