The lawyer placed both hands on the back of his chair and leaned forward.
"Because," he said in a denunciatory tone, "you were the accused's partner; because, having partly financed his scheme, you wanted to reap all the profits by swindling your partner out of his share. I maintain," he went on, waving aside an interruption that Mr. Solomon was about to make, "that your object was to let my client capture what prizes he could, and then, by contriving his arrest, seize for yourself all the proceeds of the expedition, together with any money that might accrue from the Government."
"It is a lie, a vicked lie!" the witness almost shrieked.
"I will go even further," pursued the lawyer, ignoring Mr. Solomon's indignant protest. "I will assert that the whole thing was a plot, engineered by you as soon as my client had laid his plans before you. With or without the connivance of Mr. Rossenbaum, the Arrow was brought round to Singapore, coaled, provisioned, and armed by you, and, after you had caused the name Hawk to be substituted for Arrow, was handed over to my client with the understanding that it was your ship."
Mr. Solomon attempted to make a reply, but was so overcome with indignation, anger, and other emotions that he could only utter inarticulate sounds.
"I should like to recall the witness, Tilak Sumbowa," went on Mr. Vayne, and the ship-chandler sat down, biting his nails with rage.
The water-clerk came forward looking very nervous.
"I gathered from your evidence that neither you nor Mr. Solomon were in Singapore on the night the Arrow, or, as she was then called, the Hawk, left," said Mr. Vayne.
"No; Mr. Solomon left me a note at mid-day saying he was called away on business. I have it here," and the witness triumphantly produced an envelope from his pocket.
"Let me see it."