‘Good—and he walked with you as far as Haverstock Hill, I suppose?’
‘No, he didn’t. We walked to St. Martin’s Church together, and there he took a hansom. He had no latch-key, and wanted to get home in decent time.’
‘Did you tell him you were going to walk up to the Heath?’
‘No, I had no definite purpose. I walked as far, and in whatever direction my fancy took me.’
‘Precisely. Then your friend, the water-colour painter, parted from you at about a quarter-past twelve?’
‘It struck the quarter while we were wishing each other good-night.’
‘Within five minutes’ walk of your lodging. No chance of an alibi here, I fear, Mr. Treverton; unless you met any one on Hampstead Heath, which in the middle of the night was not very likely.’
‘I neither met nor spoke to a mortal, except a man at a coffee-stall near the Mother Redcap, on my way back.’
‘Oh! you talked to a man at a coffee-stall, did you?’
‘Yes, I stopped to take a cup of coffee at ten minutes past two. If the same man is to be found there he ought to remember me. He was a loquacious fellow, something of a wag, and we had quite a political discussion. There had been an important division in the House the night before, and my friend at the coffee-stall was well posted in his Daily Telegraph.’