and
Riderhood emptied it: looking amazedly from his daughter to his visitor.

'You don't mean to tell a honest man--' he was recommencing with
his empty glass in his hand, when his eye became fascinated by the
stranger's outer coat. He leaned across the table to see it nearer,
touched the sleeve, turned the cuff to look at the sleeve-lining (the
man, in his perfect composure, offering not the least objection), and
exclaimed, 'It's my belief as this here coat was George Radfoot's too!'

'You are right. He wore it the last time you ever saw him, and the last
time you ever will see him--in this world.'

'It's my belief you mean to tell me to my face you killed him!'
exclaimed Riderhood; but, nevertheless, allowing his glass to be filled
again.

The man only answered with another shrug, and showed no symptom of
confusion.

'Wish I may die if I know what to be up to with this chap!' said
Riderhood, after staring at him, and tossing his last glassful down his
throat. 'Let's know what to make of you. Say something plain.'

'I will,' returned the other, leaning forward across the table, and
speaking in a low impressive voice. 'What a liar you are!'

The honest witness rose, and made as though he would fling his glass in
the man's face. The man not wincing, and merely shaking his forefinger
half knowingly, half menacingly, the piece of honesty thought better of
it and sat down again, putting the glass down too.

'And when you went to that lawyer yonder in the Temple with that
invented story,' said the stranger, in an exasperatingly comfortable
sort of confidence, 'you might have had your strong suspicions of a
friend of your own, you know. I think you had, you know.'

'Me my suspicions? Of what friend?'

'Tell me again whose knife was this?' demanded the man.

'It was possessed by, and was the property of--him as I have made
mention on,' said Riderhood, stupidly evading the actual mention of the
name.

'Tell me again whose coat was this?'

'That there article of clothing likeways belonged to, and was wore
by--him as I have made mention on,' was again the dull Old Bailey
evasion.

'I suspect that you gave him the credit of the deed, and of keeping
cleverly out of the way. But there was small cleverness in HIS keeping
out of the way. The cleverness would have been, to have got back for one
single instant to the light of the sun.'

'Things is come to a pretty pass,' growled Mr Riderhood, rising to his
feet, goa