“However, whether Cockram was lying or not—whether he suspected any one else or was merely trying to shield his sweetheart, there was, in the opinion of the magistrate, quite sufficient evidence to prove that Alice Image, at any rate, had a hand in the hocussing of Cigarette, since it was she who had brought the drugged beer to Cockram. Beyond that there was not sufficient evidence to show either that she was a tool in the hands of Palk, or that they both were merely instruments in the hands of some third person. “Anyway, the magistrate—it was Major Laverton, J.P., a great personal friend of the Earl of Okehampton, and a remarkably clever and acute man—tried his hardest to induce Alice to confess. He questioned the poor girl so closely and so rigorously that gradually she lost what little self-control she had, and every one in the court blamed Major Laverton not a little, for he was gradually getting the poor girl into a state of hysterics. “As for me, I inwardly commended the learned J.P., for already I had guessed what he was driving at, and was not the least astonished when the dramatic incident occurred which rendered this case so memorable. “Alice Image, namely, now thoroughly unnerved, harassed with the Major’s questions, suddenly turned to where Cockram was sitting, and, with a hysterical cry, she stretched out both her arms towards him. “‘Joe! my Joe!’ she cried; ‘you know I didn’t do it! Can’t you do anything to help me?’ “It was pathetic in the extreme: every one in the court felt deeply moved. As for Cockram, a sudden change came over him. I am accustomed to read the faces of my fellow men, and in that rough countenance I saw then emerging, in response to the girl’s appeal, a quick and firm resolution. “‘Ay, and I will, Alice!’ he said, jumping to his feet. ‘I have tried to do my duty. If the gentlemen will hear me I will say all I know.’ “Needless to say ‘the gentlemen’ were only too ready to hear him. Like a man who, having made up his mind, is now resolved to act upon it, the groom Cockram began his story. “‘I told your worship that, having drunk the beer that night, I dropped off to sleep very fast and very heavy-like. How long I’d been asleep I couldn’t say, when suddenly something seemed not exactly to wake me, but to dispel my dreams, so to speak. I opened my eyes, and at first I couldn’t see anything, as the gas in the stable was turned on very low; but I put out my hand to feel the mare’s fetlocks, just by way of telling her that I was there all right enough, and looking after her—bless her! At that moment, your worship, I noticed that the stable-door was open, and that some one—I couldn’t see who it was—was goin’ out of it. “Who goes there!” says I, for I still felt very sleepy and dull, when, to my astonishment, who should reply to me but——’ “The man paused, and once more over his rough, honest face came the old look of perplexity and misery.