seems possible that it is so. The circumstances, as they exist at present — and which are not to be disclosed to the man Solly" — the major glared, first at the governor, then at the doctor; these three were closeted together — "are as follows. The other day a man walked into the Yard and gave himself up for embezzlement — the day before yesterday it was. When they began to inquire into the matter, it turned out that the thing of which he accused himself had taken place down here — at Bedingfield, over the way there — and was the very thing for which the man Solly had been tried, found guilty, and sentenced to two years' hard labour."
"What is the name of the man who gave himself up?"
The major scratched his head.
"A nasty name. I know it struck me directly I heard it as being a nasty name. The sort of name you'd rather be hung than have. Let me see — I've got it here." The major took out a bulky pocket-book, and out of the pocket-book a paper. "Here it is — Evan Bradell — that's the fellow's name. I've known men commit suicide for less things than having to own to a name like that."
The doctor took something from his pocket. It was a photograph.
"Do you see the name which is written upon the slate which that man holds?"
"Eh?"
"Do you see, major, the name which is on that slate?"
The major took up the photograph. He peered closely at it.
