"It happened to be the first anniversary of my wife's death. I went from her grave to Mr. Belcher's house. The day was associated with the saddest and most precious memories of my life."
"What an excellent memory!" said Mr. Cavendish; rubbing his white hands together. "Are you familiar with the signatures of Nicholas Johnson and James Ramsey?"
"I have seen them many times."
"Would you recognize them, if I were to show them to you?"
"I don't know sir."
"Oh! your memory begins to fail now, does it? How is it that you cannot remember things with which you were familiar during a series of years, when you were perfectly sane, and yet can remember things so well that happened when your mind was confused?"
Mr. Benedict's mind was getting confused again, and he began to stammer. Mr. Cavendish wondered that, in some way, Mr. Balfour did not come to the relief of his witness, but he sat perfectly quiet, and apparently unconcerned. Mr. Cavendish rummaged among his papers, and withdrew two letters. These he handed to the witness. "Now," said he, "will the witness examine these letters, and tell us whether he recognizes the signatures as genuine?"
Mr. Benedict took the two letters, of which he had already heard through Sam Yates, and very carefully read them. His quick, mechanical eye measured the length and every peculiarity of the signatures. He spent so much time upon them that even the court grew impatient.
"Take all the time you need, witness," said Mr. Balfour.
"All day, of course, if necessary," responded Mr. Cavendish raspingly.