“What did he say? Are you in the habit of accepting drinks from men whose names you can’t call to mind?” “He was in the profession, sir, and in the uniform; besides, he said he’d got a new cordial, fresh from Madeira, that would keep anyone warm, even in the depth of winter, for at least two hours.” “But this isn’t the depth of winter.” “No, sir; but, as the cordial was handy, I thought I might as well try it.” “And when you had tried it?” “I felt rather jolly, sir. I never felt better in my life, and thinks I to myself: ‘I’d better write down the name and address of this cordial before I forget it.’ So I says: ‘What’s-your-name,’ I says, meaning the other driver, ‘what’s the name and address of this cordial, before I forget it?’ And I was just taking a pencil out of my pocket to write it down when I felt a bit less jolly and the pencil wouldn’t stop in my hand.” “You were on your driving seat?” “Yes, sir.” “And that is all you remember?” “Yes, sir. Except that once, dreamy like, I thought I was in prison for exceeding the legal limit, and that all the lights in the prison were turned out, and an earthquake was going on.” “The other driver stood in the road by the car, eh?” “Yes, sir.” “How was he dressed?” “I’ve told you, sir. This uniform. Blue and white cap, same as this, and long overcoat.” “You couldn’t see what he wore underneath the overcoat?” “No, sir.” “And you?” Carpentaria turned swiftly on the Soudanese. “Did you drink too?” “Yes, sah.” Spats smiled. “And after you had drunk?” Spats shook his head, still smiling. “You remember nothing?” “Yes, sah.” “What?” “He means he doesn’t remember anything,” Pratt explained. “You mean you remember nothing?” Carpentaria questioned. “Yes, sah.” “Why did you drink?” “Yes, sah.” The Soudanese looked at Pratt, smiling.. “Because Pratt drank?” “Yes, sah.” “You have been waiting on Mr. Ilam lately, haven’t you?” “Yes, sah.” “When he came to the outer door there, and entered in here, did he tell you to wait outside?” “Yes, sah.” “You can both go,” said Carpentaria. “Come to me at eight o’clock to-morrow, Pratt, in case I should want you.” “Yes, sir,” said Pratt. “Yes, sah,” said the Soudanese. “No, not you,” Carpentaria explained. “Yes, sah.” “One moment,” said Carpentaria to the Ethiopian. “Did Mr. Ilam or any other person give you a note to hand to the doorkeeper outside there?” The Soudanese shook his fierce and yet amiable head. “What!” cried Pratt, addressing him in surprise, “didn’t you come up and give a note to Wiggins and then go away again, and return a second time?” The Soudanese shook his head once more. “Then there must have been two of ’em, sir,” said Pratt to Carpentaria. “This chap’s honest enough.” “Me have brother,” said the Soudanese, “same me.” “Where is your brother?” The Soudanese shook his head. “In the native village?” “Yes, sah.” “Go and fetch him,” ordered Carpentaria.