“It is,” said Priam sullenly, and with all the external characteristics of a liar.  At intervals he glanced surreptitiously at the judge, as though the judge had been a bomb with a lighted fuse.

The examination started badly, and it went from worse to worse.  The idea that this craven, prevaricating figure in the box could be the illustrious, the world-renowned Priam Farll, seemed absurd.  Crepitude had to exercise all his self-control in order not to bully Priam.

“That is all,” said Crepitude, after Priam had given his preposterous and halting explanations of the strange phenomena of his life after the death of Leek.  None of these carried conviction.  He merely said that the woman Leek was mistaken in identifying him as her husband; he inferred that she was hysterical; this inference alienated him from the audience completely.  His statement that he had no definite reason for pretending to be Leek—­that it was an impulse of the moment—­was received with mute derision.  His explanation, when questioned as to the evidence of the hotel officials, that more than once his valet Leek had gone about impersonating his master, seemed grotesquely inadequate.

People wondered why Crepitude had made no reference to the moles.  The fact was, Crepitude was afraid to refer to the moles.  In mentioning the moles to Priam he might be staking all to lose all.

However, Pennington, K.C., alluded to the moles.  But not until he had conclusively proved to the judge, in a cross-questioning of two hours’ duration, that Priam knew nothing of Priam’s own youth, nor of painting, nor of the world of painters.  He made a sad mess of Priam.  And Priam’s voice grew fainter and fainter, and his gestures more and more self-incriminating.

Pennington, K.C., achieved one or two brilliant little effects.

“Now you say you went with the defendant to his club, and that he told you of the difficulty he was in!”

“Yes.”

“Did he make you any offer of money?”

“Yes.”

“Ah!  What did he offer you?”

“Thirty-six thousand pounds.” (Sensation in court.)

“So!  And what was this thirty-six thousand pounds to be for?”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?  Come now.”

“I don’t know.”

“You accepted the offer?”

“No, I refused it.” (Sensation in court.)

“Why did you refuse it?”

“Because I didn’t care to accept it.”

“Then no money passed between you that day?”

“Yes.  Five hundred pounds.”

“What for?”

“A picture.”

“The same kind of picture that you had been selling at ten pounds?”

“Yes.”

“So that on the very day that the defendant wanted you to swear that you were Priam Farll, the price of your pictures rose from ten pounds to five hundred?”

“Yes.”

“Doesn’t that strike you as odd?”