he beneficiary under that
false will would have had any motive in forging it.

"Very pale, and with a frown between his deep-set, handsome Irish eyes,
Percival Brooks listened to this large volume of evidence piled up
against him by the Crown.

"At times he held brief consultations with Mr. Oranmore, who seemed as
cool as a cucumber. Have you ever seen Oranmore in court? He is a
character worthy of Dickens. His pronounced brogue, his fat, podgy,
clean-shaven face, his not always immaculately clean large hands, have
often delighted the caricaturist. As it very soon transpired during that
memorable magisterial inquiry, he relied for a verdict in favour of his
client upon two main points, and he had concentrated all his skill upon
making these two points as telling as he possibly could.

"The first point was the question of time, John O'Neill, cross-examined
by Oranmore, stated without hesitation that he had given the will to Mr.
Percival at eleven o'clock in the morning. And now the eminent K.C.
brought forward and placed in the witness-box the very lawyers into
whose hands the accused had then immediately placed the will. Now, Mr.
Barkston, a very well-known solicitor of King Street, declared
positively that Mr. Percival Brooks was in his office at a quarter
before twelve; two of his clerks testified to the same time exactly, and
it was _impossible_, contended Mr. Oranmore, that within three-quarters
of an hour Mr. Brooks could have gone to a stationer's, bought a will
form, copied Mr. Wethered's writing, his father's signature, and that
of John O'Neill and Pat Mooney.

"Such a thing might have been planned, arranged, practised, and
ultimately, after a great deal of trouble, successfully carried out, but
human intelligence could not grasp the other as a possibility.

"Still the judge wavered. The eminent K.C. had shaken but not shattered
his belief in the prisoner's guilt. But there was one point more, and
this Oranmore, with the skill of a dramatist, had reserved for the fall
of the curtain.

"He noted every sign in the judge's face, he guessed that his client was
not yet absolutely safe, then only did he produce his last two
witnesses.

"One of them was Mary Sullivan, one of the housemaids in the Fitzwilliam
mansion. She had been sent up by the cook at a quarter past four o'clock
on the afternoon of February 1st with some hot water, which the nurse
had ordered, for the master's room. Just as she was about to kn