On hearing this a stir ran through the Court. The famous detective was well known to all the officials within the building, and they, in the light of this new discovery and the knowledge that this individual had taken up the prisoner’s case, began to regard the matter in a somewhat different light. There was a slight flicker of a smile upon the austere countenance of the judge when the counsel asked the detective his name. “Jacob Burrell,” was the reply. “I understand,” went on the counsel, “that you were instructed by my friend, the solicitor for the defence, to make an investigation into this case. In the course of that investigation did you visit Naples?” “I did,” the other replied. “And what did you discover there?” “I found that the witness Fensden, although he has denied the matter on oath, was in Naples three weeks after the prisoner passed through on his way to England.” The counsel here informed the jury that five affidavits to this effect would be produced and read. Addressing the witness once more he said: “Are you aware that the witness Fensden spent the greater part of his time in Naples in the company of the deceased woman?” “I found that to be the case. On February 3rd they left Naples together for Vienna, stayed together at the Hotel National, in the Käarntner Strasse, and were married on the 26th of that month at the Church at Funfhaus, in the Gurtel Strasse. The wedding-ring, which was still upon the left hand when it was sent to the prisoner, was purchased at the shop of Messrs. Radler & Hass, in the Kohlmarkt.” “The head of that firm is now in Court,” said Mr. Rolland, “and will give his evidence. Call Herr Radler.” Herr Radler thereupon entered the box which Burrell had vacated, and stated that he well remembered selling the ring in question to an Englishman who was accompanied by a beautiful Italian lady. The gentleman he recognised as the witness Fensden, and from the photograph, that had been shown to him of the dead woman, he was able to swear that it was for her the ring was purchased. Victor Fensden, at this point, sprang to his feet as if to speak, but his voice failed him, and he sat down again. A sworn copy of the marriage certificate having been produced and read, and handed up for the inspection of the jury, Jacob Burrell was recalled. “When you had traced the witness and the deceased to Vienna, what did you do?” “I returned to England, _viâ_ Paris and Calais,” he answered. “On reaching London I followed up certain clews I had received, and found that the witness and the deceased lived for a short time together in the country.” “At what place?” “At the village of Laleham on the River Thames.” Here the counsel for the prosecution rose to protest. “Your lordship,” he said, “I must respectfully submit that the question as to whether Mr. Fensden cohabited with the deceased is not relevant to the case. We are trying the prisoner at the Bar and not Mr. Fensden.” His opponent took up the challenge.