So Benjamin was placed in the box, and stood prominent in his rags before them all. After he had been sworn, there was a pause; neither the prosecution, nor the defence, knowing quite what to make of him.
At length the counsel for the Crown began, “Where were you on March the 3rd, the supposed day of the murder of Isaac Zahn?”
“I don’t keep a diary. Of late, I haven’t taken much account of dates. But if you refer to the date of the thunderstorm, I may state that I was in my cave.”
“Indeed. In your cave? That is most interesting. May I ask where your cave may be?”
“In the mountains, not far from the track to Canvas Town.”
“Dear me, that’s very novel. When you are at home, you live in a cave. You must be a sort of hermit. Do you know the prisoner?”
“Slightly.”
“Did you meet him in your cave?”
“No; but there I saw the men who ought to be in the dock in his stead.”