The magisterial inquiry threatened to become tedious.  The pictures of the witnesses and the principals occupied less and less space in the newspapers.  In another week the case would be coldly left with a shrug of the shoulders to the Law Courts.  But unexpectedly curiosity was stirred again, for the day after Thresk had called upon the lawyer, when the case for the Crown was at an end, Mrs. Ballantyne’s counsel, Mr. Travers, asked permission to recall Baram Singh.  Permission was granted, and Baram Singh once more took his place in the witness-box.

Mr. Travers leant against the desk behind him and put his questions with the most significant slowness.

“I wish to ask you, Baram Singh,” he said, “about the dinner-table on the Thursday night.  You laid it?”

“Yes,” replied Baram Singh.

“For how many?”

“For three.”

There was a movement through the whole court.

“Yes,” said Mr. Travers, “Captain Ballantyne had a visitor that night.”

Baram Singh agreed.

“Look round the court and tell the magistrate if you can see here the man who dined with Captain Ballantyne and his wife that night.”

For a moment the court was filled with the noise of murmuring.  The usher cried “Silence!” and the murmuring ceased.  A hush of expectation filled that crowded room as Baram Singh’s eyes travelled slowly round the walls.  He dropped them to the well of the court, and even his unexpressive face flashed with a look of recognition.

“There,” he cried, “there!” and he pointed to a man who was sitting just underneath the counsel’s bench.

Mr. Travers leant forward and in a quiet but particularly clear voice said: 

“Will you kindly stand up, Mr. Thresk?”

Thresk stood up.  To many of those present—­the idlers, the people of fashion, the seekers after a thrill of excitement who fill the public galleries and law-courts—­his long conduct of the great Carruthers trial had made him a familiar figure.  To the others his name, at all events, was known, and as he stood up on the floor of the court a swift and regular movement like a ripple of water passed through the throng.  They leant forward to get a clearer view of him and for a moment there was a hiss of excited whispering.

“That is the man who dined with Captain and Mrs. Ballantyne on the night when Captain Ballantyne was killed?” said Mr. Travers.

“Yes,” replied Baram Singh.

No one understood what was coming.  People began to ask themselves whether Thresk was concerned in the murder.  Word had been published that he had already left for England.  How was it he was here now?  Mr. Travers, for his part, was enjoying to the full the suspense which his question had aroused.  Not by any intonation did he allow a hint to escape him whether he looked upon Thresk as an enemy or friend.

“You may sit down, sir, now,” he said, and Thresk resumed his seat.