As far as this was concerned the prisoner was not far out in his reckoning.
The reader will remember that in No. 28 of this work we gave a chapter on mysterious murders, and cited many cases in which the perpetrators of crimes of this nature have successfully eluded the vigilance of the police—one of these instances being a murder which was committed at Chingford by a man named Geydon, who in many respects was similar to Giles Chudley.
Since the publication of these cases in a number of this work, issued only five weeks ago, Geydon has given himself up.
For twenty-two years he has, despite the £200 reward offered by Government at the time of the murder, remained under cover.
This, to say the least of it, is a remarkable circumstance, and it is still more remarkable that we should have brought the matter so recently under public notice in this work.
Giles Chudley, as we have already intimated, was bringing all the intellect he had to bear on the one cherished idea which had taken possession of him.
The sessions would come on in about a month. He had that time before him, which he was determined if possible to make use of. In a month there were thirty days, in these thirty days there were seven hundred and twenty hours; a third of the time would be devoted to sleep, to meals, and to times when he could not work, but what of that? There were plenty of hours left for him to accomplish his purpose.
And if all went on well he would accomplish it.
Having come to this resolution he watched and waited for a brief period, never hinting to a living soul that he had any fear respecting the issue of the forthcoming trial.
He assumed an air of cheerfulness, and spoke confidently of the result. He said his innocence would be proved, and that he hoped to leave the court without a stain on his character.