"About half-past eight—say between eight and nine."
"Well, what happened?" asked Hurd, smoking quietly.
The sailor twisted his big hands and groaned. Then he laid his head on the table and began to sob, talking brokenly and huskily. "I'm done for," he gasped. "I'd know'd it would come—no—I ain't sorry. I've had a nightmare of a time. Oh—since I pawned that brooch—"
"Ah. Then you did pawn the brooch at Stowley?"
Jessop sat up and wiped his eyes. "Yes, I did. But I pulled my cap down over my eyes and buttoned up my pea-jacket. I never thought old Tinker would ha' knowed me."
"Wasn't it rather rash of you to pawn the brooch in a place where you were well known?"
"I wasn't well known. I only come at times, and then I went away. Old Tinker hadn't seen me more nor once or twice, and then I pulled down my cap and—" Jessop, badly shaken, was beginning to tell the episode over again, when Hurd stopped him.
"See here," said the detective. "You say that you are innocent?"
"I swear that I am," gasped Jessop.
"Well, then, I'll give you the benefit of the doubt. My business is not to hang innocent people. Take a glass of rum and tell me all you know, beginning with your first meeting with Krill and running down through the death of Lady Rachel to your last meeting in the Gwynne Street cellar."