An inquiry was held at Bow Street next day. Several of the witnesses who had appeared nearly a year ago at the inquest were present, and much of the evidence that had been then given was now repeated. The policeman who had been called in by Desrolles, the doctor who had first examined the dead woman’s wound, and the detective who examined the premises--all these gave their evidence exactly as they had given it at the inquest. Mrs. Evitt was too ill to appear, but her previous statements were read. There was one witness present on this occasion who had not appeared at the inquest. This was George Gerard, who had been subpœnaed by the prosecution, and who described, with a somewhat reluctant air, his discovery of the dagger in Jack Chicot’s colour-box. ‘This was a curious discovery of yours, Mr. Gerard,’ said Mr. Leopold, after the witness had been examined, ‘and comes to light at a curious time. Why did you not inform the police of this discovery when you made it?’ ‘I was not called as a witness.’ ‘No. But if you considered this discovery of yours of any importance, it was your duty to make it known immediately. You make your way into the house of the accused without anybody’s authorization; you go prying and peering into rooms that have already been examined by the police; and you come forward a year afterwards with this extraordinary discovery of a tarnished dagger. What evidence have we that this dagger ever belonged to the accused?’ ‘There need be no difficulty about that,’ said John Treverton, ‘the dagger is mine.’ Mr. Leopold rewarded his client’s candour with a ferocious scowl. Was there ever such a man--a man who was legally dumb, whose lips the law had sealed, and who had the folly to blurt out such an admission as this? The magistrate asked whether the dagger could be found. The police had taken possession of all Jack Chicot’s chattels. The dagger was no doubt among them. ‘Let it be found and given to the divisional surgeon to be examined,’ said the magistrate. The inquiry was adjourned at the request of Mr. Leopold, who wanted time to meet the evidence against his client. The magistrate, who felt that the case was hardly strong enough for committal, granted this respite. An hour later John Treverton was closeted with Mr. Leopold and Mr. Sampson in his room at Clerkenwell. ‘The medical evidence shows that the murder must have been committed at one o’clock,’ said Mr. Leopold. ‘You only discovered it at five minutes before three. What were you doing with yourself during those hours? At the worst we ought to be able to prove an _alibi_.’