"Yes, you may if you'll be quick about it."

"Very well, then, I will. Do you mind passing the bottle?
Thank you. I probably know not only too much, but a deal more than
you guess. First let us take the case for the Crown. The jeweller is
travelling by coach at night over the moors. He has one postillion
only, Roger Tallis by name, and by character shady. The jeweller has
money (he was a niggardly fool to take only one postillion), and
carries a diamond of great, or rather of an enormous and notable
value (he was a bigger fool to take this). In the dark morning two
horses come galloping back, frightened and streaming with sweat.
A search party goes out, finds the coach upset by the Four Holed
Cross, the jeweller lying beside it with a couple of pistol bullets
in him, and the money, the diamond, and Roger Tallis--nowhere.
So much for the murdered man. Two or three days after, you, Gabriel
Foot, by character also shady, and known to be a friend of Roger
Tallis, are whispered to have a suspicious amount of money about you,
also blood-stains on your coat. It further leaks out that you were
travelling on the moors afoot on the night in question, and that your
pistols are soiled with powder. Case for the Crown closes. Have I
stated it correctly?"

I nodded; he took a sip or two at his wine, laid down his pipe as if
the tobacco spoiled the taste of it, took another sip, and
continued:--

"Case for the defence. That Roger Tallis has decamped, that no
diamond has been found on you (or anywhere), and lastly that the
bullets in the jeweller's body do not fit your pistols, but came from