"Yes, sir. He saw the murder. I heard it all from him, I did; I forget the exact story he told me. But Denis Bantry should have been hanged, sir. Oh, there isn't the least doubt about it, sir." "But if this Dick Pental saw the crime committed, why didn't he come forward and tell about it?" "Well, sir, it was this way," said Ganymede, dusting the table with his napkin, "Dick aint all there. Not to be too delicate, sir, Dick's mad. He was always a softy from a boy, not that he's old now, sir. Forty-five, I believe, and he was twenty years of age when he was in Captain Larcher's service." "And is he at The Laurels still?" "Why, yes, sir. You see, after the murder, no one would take the house. They thought it haunted maybe, so Dick was put in as caretaker. He looked after it for twenty years, and then it was taken by a gentleman who didn't care for murders or ghosts. He's there now, sir, and so is Dick, who still looks after the garden." "But why didn't Dick relate what he saw?" "Because of his softness, sir," said the waiter deliberately. "You see Dick had been put into a lunatic asylum, he had, just before he came of age. Captain Larcher--a kind gentleman, sir--took him out, and made him gardener at The Laurels, so when Dick saw the murder done, he was afraid to speak, in case he should be locked up again. No head, you see, sir. So he held his tongue, he did, and only told me five years after the murder. Then it was too late, for all those who were at The Laurels on that night had disappeared. You don't happen to know where Denis Bantry is, sir, do you? For he ought to hang, sir; indeed he ought."