The Old Man in the Corner

looked across at Miss Polly Burton's eager little face, from which all trac

a disused barge. She had been moored at one time at the foot of one of those dark flights of steps which lead down between tall warehouses to the

e man cutting another's throat in comfort, and without fear of detection. The body, as I said, was decomposed beyond all recognition; it had probably been th

m, for two days after the discovery of the body in the barge, the Siberian millionaire, as he was already po

sual method-mind you, I am only an amateur, I try to reason out a case for the love of the thing-I sought about for a motive for the crime, which the police declared Smet

however, that it had neve

o believe that he had anything to fear from a man like Kershaw. He must have known that Kershaw held no damning proofs agai

ure in the illustrated papers at the time. Then

you most abo

ression, due to the total absence of eyebr

. He was a tall, soldierly-looking man, upright in stature, his face very bronzed and tanned. He wore neither moustache nor beard, his hair was cropped quite close to his head, like a Frenchman's;

d pleasantly with his lawyer, Sir Arthur Inglewood, in the intervals between the calling of the several witnesses for t

t day, and hear the case, so perhaps you have no recollection of Mrs. Kershaw. No? Ah, well! Here is a snapshot I managed to get of her once. That is her. Exactly as she stood i

of that vagabond husband of hers: an enormous wedding-ring encircled her finger, and that, too, was swathed in black

ntified. They were his passports, as it were, to a delightful land of importance and notoriety. Sir Arthur Inglewood, I think, disappointed him by stating that he had no questions to ask of him. Müller had been brimful of answe

been dismissed, and had retired from the court altogether,

e or history of the accusation against him; however, when put in full possession of the facts, and realizing, no doubt, the absolute futility of any resistance,

er all, it did not amount to much. He said that at six o'clock in the afternoon of December the 10th, in the midst of one of the densest fogs he ever remembers, the 5.5 from Tilbury steamed into the station, being

ion of a small hand-bag, which he carried himself. Having seen that all his luggage was safely bestowed, the stranger in the fur coat paid the p

e driver about the fog and that; then I went about my busin

e fur coat, having seen to his luggage, walked away towards the waiting-rooms

d no questions to ask, and the

seriously thought of depositing all the luggage in the lost property office, and of looking out for another fare-waited until at last, at a quarter before nine, whom should he see walking hurriedly towards his cab but the gentleman in the fur coat and cap, who g

haggy hair and beard, loafing about the station and waiting-rooms in the afternoon of Decembe

iting-room at about 6.15 on Wednesday, December the 10th, and go straight up to a gentleman in a heavy fur coat and cap, who had also just come into the

encouragement. The employés of the Hotel Cecil gave evidence as to the arrival of Mr. Smethurst at about 9.30 p.m.

audience to wait and hear what Sir Arthur Inglewood had to say. He, of course, is the most fashionable man in the law at the

went round the fair spectators as Sir Arthur stretched out his long loose limbs and lounged across the table. He waited to make h

6.15 and 8.45 p.m., your Honour, I now propose to call two witnesses, who saw this same William Kers

st, and I am sure the lady next to me only recovered from the shock of the su

lacency which had set Miss Polly Burton wondering, "well, you see, I had made up my mind long ag

eposed that at about 3.30 p.m. on December the 10th a shabbily dressed individual lolled into the coffee-room and ordered some tea. He was pleasant enough and talkative, told the waiter that his name was

table restaurant, Signor Torriani put the umbrella carefully away in his office, on the chance of his customer calling to claim it when he had discovered his loss. And sure enough nearly a week later, on Tuesday, the 16th, at about 1 p.m., the same shabb

ocket-book in the coffee-room, underneath the table. It contained sundry letters and bills, all addressed to William Kershaw. This pocket-book

t had begun to collapse like a house of cards. Still, there was the assignation, and the undisputed meeting be

erhooks. He had fidgeted with his bit of string till there was no

hought were searching questions to the accused relating to his past. Francis Smethurst, who had quite shaken off his somnolence, spoke with a curious nasal twang, and with an almost imperceptible

shaw,' persisted his Honour

y, 'I have never, to my knowledge, seen this man K

That is a strange assertion to make when I have two of

Honour,' persisted the accused quiet

ded up a packet to his Honour; 'here are a number of letters written by my client si

bbled a few lines, together with his signature, several times upon a sheet of note-paper. It was easy to read u

iam Kershaw at Fenchurch Street railway station? The prisoner gave a fairly sa

hames there was such a dense fog that it was twenty-four hours before it was thought safe for me to land. My friend, who is

could get a glass of wine. I drifted into the waiting-room, and there I was accosted by a shabbily dressed individual, who began telling me a piteous tale. Who he was I do not know. He said he was an old soldier wh

with my pockets full of gold, and this was the first sad tale I had heard; but I am a business man, and did not want to be exactly "done" i

given me the slip. Finding, probably, that I would not part with my money till I had seen th

y to find myself in worse and more deserted neighbourhoods. I became hopelessly lost and fogged. I don't wonder that two and a half hours elapsed while I thus wandered

ill persisted his Honour, 'and his knowing the exact date of your ar

uietly. 'I have proved to you, have I not, that I never wrote those let

road who might have heard of your move

my departure, but none of them could have written thes

us letters? You cannot help the police in any way

to me as to your Honour, and t

pletely routed the prosecution were, firstly, the proof that he had never written the letters making the assignation, and secondly, the fact that the man supposed to have been murdered