That of Johnston was now put in, and read nut. He had nothing to withdraw or add to it, he said; and then Mr Benham eat down.
But the revengeful half-grin on the face of the witness turned to rather a blank look as the defence began upon him in cross-examination.
Beginning with the subject of identity, Mr Windgate tried all he knew to make Johnston own to a possibility of mistake. Then he went on the “bewilderment” plan, but the long-headed Scot was not to be floored in that way, nor could he be made to contradict himself. The vindictive rascal was precision personified. But when it came to the eavesdropping story, Mr Windgate’s tone was magnificent in its scathing contempt.
“Kindly tell the Court the date of your going to Mr—er—Forsyth—the magistrate?”
“It was last month. About the 15th.”
“About the 15th of last month.”
“Yes.”
“You had then left Mr Dorrien’s service?”
“I had.”
“How long had you left it?”