’"Now, Mr. Walen,” says Lord Lundie.  “Will you kindly tell us what steps you took with regard to the second accused?”

’"The man ran directly at me, me lord,” says Walen.  “I said, ’Oh no, you don’t,’ and hit him in the face.”

’Lord Lundie lifts one hand and uncovers second accused’s face.  There was a bruise on one cheek and the chin was all greened with grass.  He was a heavy-built man.

’"What happened after that?” says Lord Lundie.

’"To the best of my remembrance he turned from me towards your lordship.”

’Then Lundie goes ahead.  “I stooped, and caught the man round the ankles,” he says.  “The sudden check threw him partially over my left shoulder.  I jerked him off that shoulder, still holding his ankles, and he fell heavily on, it would appear, the point of his chin, death being instantaneous.”

’"Death being instantaneous,” says Walen.

’Lord Lundie takes off his gown and wig—­you could see him do it—­and becomes our fellow-murderer.  “That’s our case,” he says.  “I know how I should direct the jury, but it’s an undignified business for a Lord of Appeal to lift his hand to, and some of my learned brothers,” he says, “might be disposed to be facetious.”

’I guess I can’t be properly sensitised.  Any one who steered me out of that trouble might have had the laugh on me for generations.  But I’m only a millionaire.  I said we’d better search second accused in case he’d been carryin’ concealed weapons.

’"That certainly is a point,” says Lord Lundie.  “But the question for the jury would be whether I exercised more force than was necessary to prevent him from usin’ them.” I didn’t say anything.  He wasn’t talkin’ my language.  Second accused had his gun on him sure enough, but it had jammed in his hip-pocket.  He was too fleshy to reach behind for business purposes, and he didn’t look a gun-man anyway.  Both of ’em carried wads of private letters.  By the time Walen had translated, we knew how many children the fat one had at home and when the thin one reckoned to be married.  Too bad!  Ya-as.

‘Says Walen to me while we was rebuttonin’ their jackets (they was not in uniform):  “Ever read a book called The Wreckers, Mr. Zigler?”

’"Not that I recall at the present moment,” I says.

’"Well, do,” he says.  “You’d appreciate it.  You’d appreciate it now, I assure you.”

’"I’ll remember,” I says.  “But I don’t see how this song and dance helps us any.  Here’s our corpses, here’s their machine, and daylight’s bound to come.”

’"Heavens!  That reminds me,” says Lundie.  “What time’s dinner?”

’"Half-past eight,” says Mankeltow.  “It’s half-past five now.  We knocked off golf at twenty to, and if they hadn’t been such silly asses, firin’ pistols like civilians, we’d have had them to dinner.  Why, they might be sitting with us in the smoking-room this very minute,” he says.  Then he said that no man had a right to take his profession so seriously as these two mountebanks.