“Yes. If it were possible that I might be called as a witness I could tell the Court things that would probably astonish it; but I leave everything to the two persons I have brought,” she replied in a tremulous voice.
The jury grew impatient. The excitement was intense.
In a few moments a young and rather showily-attired woman stepped into the box. As she turned towards me I was puzzled to know where I had seen the face before. The features seemed quite familiar, yet I could not recollect.
“You are Jane Maygrove?” asked my counsel.
“Yes.”
“Tell us what you know of the murder of Mrs Inglewood. Relate it in your own way.”
She hesitated for a moment and commenced:
“Before I married I was maid to Mrs Inglewood. Mistress was a very quiet lady, and lived with a cook and myself in Bedford Place. I was in her service about three months, and although she told me she was married—and she wore a wedding-ring—her husband never visited her. Several foreign ladies came to see her on different occasions, but only one gentleman. He also had the appearance of a foreigner but spoke English without an accent. One evening, in the latter part of July, mistress dined alone with this gentleman, and I overheard a conversation which took place in the drawing-room afterwards. I—”
“Was this gentleman to whom you refer the prisoner?” asked Mr Roland.
“No he was not. On that night I heard the visitor advising mistress to withdraw her money from a company which he said was on the brink of collapsing, and place it in his hands to invest. At first she demurred, and appeared to discredit the rumour that the company was not safe; but, after a long argument, he exacted a promise that she would withdraw the money and hand it over to him in cash on the fifteenth of August, when it was arranged that he should re-invest it for her.”