"You must not set my son against me," said the mother.
"Not if we can help it. But about the value of this evidence. Now, Molly, please go into the witness-box." She stood up behind a chair, placing her hands on the back. "I am counsel. The jury are sitting over there; the judge is on your right. Keep your eyes on counsel. Now, you are Alice first—Alice Haveril. You swear, madam, that you know these clothes. How do you know them? Because you made them with your own hands. Are they made of rare or uncommon materials? Are they not made of stuff commonly used for the garments of infants? Is there anything distinctive in the materials used? They are also made in the fashion commonly used for children, are they not? Nothing distinctive, then, in the fashion? So that, for materials or for shape, there is nothing to make them different from any other baby-clothes? Nothing. Then, madam, how do you know that they were made by your own work?"
"Because I know," said Molly.
"Because you know. But how do you know?"
"Because I remember."
"But you cannot tell me how you remember them—by what mark?" He took up the frock. "Here is a crest in red silk. Did you work that? No. Yet it is on the frock."
"Well, Dick," said Molly, "you needn't take so much pleasure in knocking the case to pieces."
"I am only showing you what it amounts to. Now, get into the box again. You are Mr. Richard Woodroffe, the expert in sagacity. What have you got? A certified copy of an entry in the register of births and deaths. You place, I believe, great reliance on that entry? It records the death of the child of Sir Humphrey Woodroffe. Your theory is that the child who died was immediately replaced by the child who was adopted. Very well. But if there was no concealment of the death, how could there be substitution?"
"There's an answer to that," Molly replied quickly. "The woman never thought of hiding her name until after the child was dead and buried—until she thought of the substitution."
"That is your theory. When you come to proof—how do you know that the child whose death is recorded was really the son of Sir Humphrey? Was the death announced in the papers? They have been searched, but there is no mention of the event. Yet, when a man of such great importance as Sir Humphrey Woodroffe loses his only son, the announcement of the event would be made in all the papers, both here and in India. How do you explain that omission? It is not for us—I'm on the other side, Molly—to find out the reason of this lying entry; it is sufficient for us to prove the continuous existence of the child from his birth to the present day. Who made that declaration? We do not know; we do not care. It is sufficient for our purposes to prove that Lady Woodroffe at the time was with her father in Scotland."