"What time was this?"
"About half-past eleven. I think the half-hour struck directly after I left him, but I am not quite sure."
"As you returned, did you see anything of the man who had accosted the deceased?"
"Not anything."
Strange to say the very man thus spoken of was in court, listening to the trial. Upon hearing the evidence given by Mr. Brittle, he voluntarily came forward as a witness. He said he had been "having a drop," and it had made him abusive, but that Anthony Dare had owed him money long for work done, mending and making. He was a jobbing tailor, and the bill was a matter of fourteen pounds. Anthony Dare had only put him off and off; he was a poor man, with a wife and family to keep, and he wanted the money badly; but now, he supposed, he should never be paid. He lived close to the spot where he met the deceased and the gentleman who had just given evidence, and he could prove that he went home as soon as they were out of sight, and was in bed at half-past eleven. What with debts and various other things, he concluded the town had had enough to rue in young Anthony Dare. Still, the poor fellow didn't deserve such a shocking fate as murder, and he would have been the first to protect him from it.
That the evidence was given in good faith, was undoubted. He was known to the town as a harmless, inoffensive man, addicted, though upon rare occasions, to taking more than was good for him, when he was apt to dilate upon his grievances.
The constable who had been on duty that night near Mr. Dare's residence was the next witness called. "Did you see the deceased that night?" was asked of him.
"Yes, sir, I did," was the reply. "I saw him walking home with the gentleman who has given evidence—Mr. Brittle. I noticed that young Mr. Dare talked thick, as if he had been drinking."
"Did they appear to be on good terms?"
"Very good terms, sir. Mr. Brittle was laughing when he opened the gate for the deceased, and told him to mind he did not kiss the grass; or something to that effect."