Milford's statement, which he made quite quietly, did not arouse anything like the sensation which I expected. I suppose the fact was that very few people in court knew anything about San Luca except that it was in South America, in which case Prado's name would convey to them nothing of its evil significance.
The magistrate, however, appeared to be better informed.
"That's rather an amazing statement," he said, looking keenly at Milford. "I thought Prado was killed in the last revolution."
"Yes, sir. That was the general impression. As a matter of fact, he escaped in a boat the night the palace was blown up, and boarded a steamer in the harbour which brought him to New York. No one knew this at the time; indeed, there was never any suspicion that he was still alive until a couple of months ago."
"Did he tell you all this on the ship?"
Milford shook his head. "No, sir; I knew nothing about it until the other day. When Mr. Northcote engaged me, he merely told me that he intended to take a house in London, and that he wanted a butler whom he could trust. I accepted the post, sir. I was glad of the chance to serve him and to show that I was grateful to him. Mr. Northcote lived in a pretty big way in London at first, as I dare say you know, sir. We used to entertain a goodish bit, and I had an establishment of ten or twelve servants under me. Then one day, about a couple of months ago, something seemed to happen that changed the master entirely. He broke off nearly all his engagements, shut himself up in the house, and began to get rid of the servants until there were only three of us left. It was quite impossible for us to look after the house properly, but he didn't seem to mind that. He doubled our wages, without our asking, and told us to do the best we could. We all thought he was ill; indeed, he looked so bad that once I went so far as to ask him if he wouldn't see the doctor. But it was no use, sir, no use at all. He just laughed, and said that he was doctoring himself."
"He gave you no reason for this change in his way of living?"
"Nothing definite, sir; but I knew that he fancied himself in danger. He gave me special instructions to let no one into the house without bringing up their names to him first. Things went on like this for several weeks—in fact, up to eight days ago. That was the third, if you remember, sir. Mr. Northcote came to me on that day and told me to order him a taxi-cab, because he was going out at six o'clock. He had a motor of his own, but of course it was not my place to ask questions. I ordered him the cab, and he went off. I never saw him again until the night he was murdered."
He paused and took a sip from the glass of water which was standing at the side of the box.
"According to the evidence of the police," said the magistrate, "Mr. John Burton returned to Park Lane in his place."