‘And this receptacle stands in Mr. Lindsay’s room?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘It is not kept locked?’ ‘No. Anyone in the office may have access to it.’ ‘I suppose, Mr. Beattie, papers do get lost occasionally, even in an office so well regulated as yours?’ ‘Oh yes.’ ‘And sometimes, after a long time perhaps, they turn up again?’ ‘Sometimes that happens, certainly.’ ‘It seems almost an impertinence to Mr. Lindsay to put the question, but I believe that he came to your office with high recommendations, and that until this affair his character was blameless?’ ‘Absolutely without reproach; and I may say that I do not for a moment believe----’ ‘You are not asked anything about your belief, sir,’ said the Judge sternly. Mr. Beattie fully anticipated the rebuke; but he had accomplished his purpose. He had let the jury and the whole court see that he was doing what he could for the prisoner. And yet now, for the first time, a doubt as to Beattie’s integrity crossed Alec Lindsay’s mind. He seemed too cool, too calm and collected, to be sincere. It looked as if he were performing a part which had been rehearsed beforehand. ‘Can it be all his doing?’ The thought flashed through Alec’s mind only to be rejected. He could not see how Beattie could have interfered in the matter, even had he wished to do so. Mr. Hatchett was the next witness, but he was put into the box chiefly to give the junior counsel his turn, so that the examination of the important witness, Dr. Mackenzie, might fall to Mr. Collithorne, without a violation of the rule that senior counsel and junior shall take the witnesses alternately. The minister was examined very minutely; the Judge’s note of his evidence was as follows: ‘I am a minister of the Free Church of Scotland. In the autumn of last year I came to London to see the testator, who was an old friend of mine. He declared to me his intention of leaving the sum of half a million sterling to the Church to which I belong. I did not suggest his doing so. I did not in any way urge him to do it. Nor did I disapprove of the bequest. One or two days after that, he put a paper in my hands, and told me it was the draft of his will. It was in the prisoner’s handwriting. The prisoner had written to me before this, and I knew his handwriting. The bequest mentioned in it to the Free Church of Scotland was five hundred thousand pounds. It was written in words and also in figures--first in words and then in figures. That I swear.