“You said in your evidence that Captain Tremayne arrived at Monsanto between half-past eleven and twenty minutes to twelve?” “Yes, sir.” “You told us, I think, that you determined this by the fact that you came on duty at eleven o’clock, and that it would be half-an-hour or a little more after that when Captain Tremayne arrived?” “Yes, sir.” “That is quite in agreement with the evidence of your sergeant. Now tell the court where you were during the half-hour that followed--until you heard the guard being turned out by the sergeant.” “Pacing in front of quarters, sir.” “Did you notice the windows of the building at all during that time?” “I can’t say that I did, sir.” “Why not?” “Why not?” echoed the private. “Yes--why not? Don’t repeat my words. How did it happen that you didn’t notice the windows?” “Because they were in darkness, sir.” O’Moy’s eyes gleamed. “All of them?” “Certainly, sir, all of them.” “You are quite certain of that?” “Oh, quite certain, sir. If a light had shown from one of them I couldn’t have failed to notice it.” “That will do.” “Captain Tremayne--” began the president. “I have no questions for the witness, sir,” Tremayne announced. Sir Harry’s face expressed surprise. “After the statement he has just made?” he exclaimed, and thereupon he again invited the prisoner, in a voice that was as grave as his countenance, to cross-examine he witness; he did more than invite--he seemed almost to plead. But Tremayne, preserving by a miracle his outward calm, for all that inwardly he was filled with despair and chagrin to see what a pit he had dug for himself by his falsehood, declined to ask any questions. Private Bates retired, and Mullins was recalled. A gloom seemed to have settled now upon the court. A moment ago their way had seemed fairly clear to its members, and they had been inwardly congratulating themselves that they were relieved from the grim necessity of passing sentence upon a brother officer esteemed by all who knew him. But now a subtle change had crept in. The statement drawn by Sir Terence from the sentry appeared flatly to contradict Captain Tremayne’s own account of his movements on the night in question. “You told the court,” O’Moy addressed the witness Mullins, consulting his notes as he did so, “that on the night on which Count Samoval met his death, I sent you at ten minutes past twelve to take a letter to the sergeant of the guard, an urgent letter which was to be forwarded to its destination first thing on the following morning. And it was in fact in the course of going upon this errand that you discovered the prisoner kneeling beside the body of Count Samoval. This is correct, is it not?” “It is, sir.” “Will you now inform the court to whom that letter was addressed?” “It was addressed to the Commissary-General.” “You read the superscription?” “I am not sure whether I did that, but I clearly remember, sir, that you told me at the time that it was for the Commissary-General.”