"Jim, do you know Paul Benedict?" inquired Mr. Balfour.
"Well, I do," said Jim. "I've knowed 'im ever sence he come to Sevenoaks."
"How did you make his acquaintance?"
"He used to come into the woods, fishin' an' huntin'. Him an' me was like brothers. He was the curisest creetur I ever seen, an' I hope he takes no 'fense in hearin' me say so. Ye've seen his tackle, Mr. Balfour, an' that split bamboo o' his, but the jedge hasn't seen it. I wish I'd brung it along. Fond of fishin', sir?" And Jim turned blandly and patronizingly to the Court.
The Judge could not repress a little ripple of amusement, which, from a benevolent mouth, ran out over his face. Biting his lips, he said: "The witness had better be confined to the matter in hand."
"An' Jedge—no 'fense—but I like yer looks, an' if ye'll come to Number Nine—it's a little late now—I'll"—
Mr. Cavendish jumped up and said fiercely: "I object to this trifling."
"Jim," said Mr. Balfour, "the defendant's counsel objects to your trifling. He has a right to do so, particularly as he is responsible for starting it. Now tell me whether the Paul Benedict you knew was the only man of the name who has lived in Sevenoaks since you have lived in Number Nine?"
"He was the only one I ever hearn on. He was the one as invented Belcher's machines, any way. He's talked about 'em with me a thousand times."
"Is he in the room?"