“Take time, Mr Ingelow,” said Mr Benham kindly. “There’s no hurry—none whatever. You are, I believe, the prisoner’s brother-in-law?”
“Yes.”
“In a double sense?”
“I—I don’t quite understand.”
“What do you mean by ‘a double sense,’ Mr Benham?” snapped the judge.
“We mean, m’lord, that they married each others’ sisters.” Here it became necessary to explain that the learned counsel was forging ahead too fast, and that at least half of his statement dealt with future contingencies instead of with actual facts. Which explanation tickled the audience and reduced the witness to a red-hot degree of nervousness. “And now, Mr Ingelow,” he went on, when the joke had subsided, “just tell the gentlemen of the jury what happened during the search you took part in. Were you asked to join in that search?”
“No. I did not even know what had happened until I saw Mr Curtis and General Dorrien arrive on the beach. I was there at the time talking with Matt and Jem Pollock.”
“And then you learned that Hubert Dorrien was missing?”
“Yes. I volunteered at once to join in the search.”
“Were you acquainted with the deceased?”