thought he would have done in fifteen years, for that’s about the time since I saw him and Gilbert together there in Jermyn Street,—­but I knew him as soon as I clapped eyes on him, and whatever doubt I had went as soon as I saw him lift his right hand to his moustache, for there are two fingers missing on that hand—­the middle ones—­and I remembered that fact about the man Gilbert Carstairs had introduced to me.  I knew, I tell you, as I sat in that court, that the fellow there on the bench, listening, was an impostor!”

We were all bending forward across the table, listening eagerly—­and there was a question in all our thoughts, which Mr. Lindsey put into words.

“The man’s name?”

“It was given to me, in Jermyn Street that morning, as Meekin—­Dr. Meekin,” answered Mr. Elphinstone.  “Gilbert Carstairs, as you’re aware, was a medical man himself—­he’d qualified, anyway—­and this was a friend of his.  But that was all I gathered then—­they were both up to the eyes in their preparations, for they were off for Southampton that night, and I left them to it—­and, of course, never heard of them again.  But now to come back to the police court the other day:  I tell you, I was—­purposely—­in a quiet corner, and there I kept till the case was over; but just when everybody was getting away, the man on the bench caught sight of me—­”

“Ah!” exclaimed Mr. Lindsey, looking across at me.  “Ah! that’s another reason—­that supplements the ice-ax one!  Aye!—­he caught sight of you, Mr. Elphinstone—­”

“And,” continued Mr. Elphinstone, “I saw a queer, puzzled look come into his face.  He looked again—­looked hard.  I took no notice of his look, though I continued to watch him, and presently he turned away and went out.  But I knew he had recognized me as a man he had seen somewhere.  Now remember, when Gilbert Carstairs introduced me to this man, Gilbert did not mention any connection of mine with Hathercleugh—­he merely spoke of me as an old friend; so Meekin, when he came into these parts, would have no idea of finding me here.  But I saw he was afraid—­badly afraid—­because of his recognition and doubt about me.  And the next question was—­what was I to do?  I’m not the man to do things in haste, and I could see this was a black, deep business, with maybe two murders in it.  I went off and got my lunch—­and thought.  At the end of it, rather than go to the police, I went to your office, Mr. Lindsey.  And your office was locked up, and you were all away for the day.  And then an idea struck me:  I have a relative—­the man outside with Murray—­who’s a high-placed officer in the Criminal Investigation Department at New Scotland Yard—­I would go to him.  So—­I went straight off to London by the very next South express.  Why?  To see if he could trace anything about this Meekin.”

“Aye!” nodded Mr. Lindsey admiringly.  “You were in the right of it, there—­that was a good notion.  And—­you did?”