"We will now go on to the question of the knife," said Paul, "concerning which you have made so much." And he dealt with this question in a similar way to that with which he had dealt with it on the previous occasion. The tendency of his questions was to show how unlikely it was that he, whom the witness still called a clever, scheming, cold-blooded villain, should use a knife known to be his, a knife that had been seen on his office desk, and leave it in the murdered man's body, knowing that all the time it could be traced to himself. "There is still something more important," said Paul. "From the evidence given it is known that I parted from your son at twilight on the night before the murder." "Yes." "On that occasion he struck me down when I was walking away from him. The blow almost deprived me of my senses, and I lay stunned for some seconds." "Yes." "When I rose I made no attack on him." "No." "But I uttered a threat that I would be even with him." "Yes. I regard your words as practically a threat of murder." "Do you know what your son was doing between that time and the time when he was supposed to meet with the person who murdered him?" "No; I cannot tell." "You say he came into the house where two letters awaited him; those two letters he read, and then threw them into the fire. Do you know what was in those letters?" "No; I have no idea." "You saw the envelopes. In what handwriting were they--that of a man or a woman?" "I did not take particular notice, but I thought one was written by a man and the other by a woman." "Just so! and he threw these letters into the fire?" "Yes." "Did he seem to be pleased at seeing them?" The witness was silent for a second, then he said: "It is difficult to tell." "That is not an answer to my question. Did he not show anger, or at least annoyance, as he read one of these letters?" "Well, perhaps he did." "Thank you. Now then, I want to ask you this: You say he went out after dinner that night. Did he tell you where he was going?" "No. I thought he was going to his club." "You know, too, that he did not go to his club. That has come out in the evidence." "I am told that he was not seen there." "Now then for the question that I regard of such importance. Do you know of any woman likely to write to your son and ask him to meet her?" Again the witness looked confused. "I think the question unfair," he said. "One might have all sorts of suspicions, but it would be wrong to give expression to them, as I have no definite knowledge." "I must insist on the question, my lord," said Paul, turning to the judge. "Certainly," replied the judge. "It has a strong bearing upon the case." "Then I must repeat the question," said Paul, turning to the witness. Whereupon Mr. Wilson admitted that he had more than once seen his son in company with a woman whom he did not know. "Might it not have been her letter that night?"