“At nine o’clock in the morning it was the night watchman’s duty, as soon as the first cashier had arrived, to dust and tidy the manager’s room, and to undo the bolts; after that he was free to go home to his breakfast and rest.

“You will see, of course, that James Fairbairn’s position in the English Provident Bank is one of great responsibility and trust; but then in every bank and business house there are men who hold similar positions.  They are always men of well-known and tried characters, often old soldiers with good-conduct records behind them.  James Fairbairn is a fine, powerful Scotchman; he had been night watchman to the English Provident Bank for fifteen years, and was then not more than forty-three or forty-four years old.  He is an ex-guardsman, and stands six feet three inches in his socks.

“It was his evidence, of course, which was of such paramount importance, and which somehow or other managed, in spite of the utmost care exercised by the police, to become public property, and to cause the wildest excitement in banking and business circles.

“James Fairbairn stated that at eight o’clock in the evening of March 25th, having bolted and barred all the shutters and the door of the back premises, he was about to lock the manager’s door as usual, when Mr. Ireland called to him from the floor above, telling him to leave that door open, as he might want to go into the office again for a minute when he came home at eleven o’clock.  James Fairbairn asked if he should leave the light on, but Mr. Ireland said:  ’No, turn it out.  I can switch it on if I want it.’

“The night watchman at the English Provident Bank has permission to smoke, he also is allowed a nice fire, and a tray consisting of a plate of substantial sandwiches and one glass of ale, which he can take when he likes.  James Fairbairn settled himself in front of the fire, lit his pipe, took out his newspaper, and began to read.  He thought he had heard the street door open and shut at about a quarter to ten; he supposed that it was Mr. Ireland going out to his club, but at ten minutes to ten o’clock the watchman heard the door of the manager’s room open, and some one enter, immediately closing the glass partition door and turning the key.

“He naturally concluded it was Mr. Ireland himself.

“From where he sat he could not see into the room, but he noticed that the electric light had not been switched on, and that the manager seemingly had no light but an occasional match.

“‘For the minute,’ continued James Fairbairn, ’a thought did just cross my mind that something might perhaps be wrong, and I put my newspaper aside and went to the other end of the room towards the glass partition.  The manager’s room was still quite dark, and I could not clearly see into it, but the door into the hall was open, and there was, of course, a light through there.  I had got quite close to the partition, when I saw Mrs. Ireland standing in the doorway, and heard her saying in a very astonished tone of voice:  ’Why, Lewis, I thought you had gone to your club ages ago.  What in the world are you doing here in the dark?’