Mortimer lighted the candles. They showed the visitor to be an ill- looking visitor with a squinting leer, who, as he spoke, fumbled at an old sodden fur cap, formless and mangey, that looked like a furry animal, dog or cat, puppy or kitten, drowned and decaying.

“Now,” said Mortimer, “what is it?”

“Governors Both,” returned the man, in what he meant to be a wheedling tone, “which on you might be Lawyer Lightwood?”

“I am.”

“Lawyer Lightwood,” ducking at him with a servile air, “I am a man as gets my living, and as seeks to get my living, by the sweat of my brow. Not to risk being done out of the sweat of my brow, by any chances, I should wish afore going further to be swore in.”

“I am not a swearer in of people, man.”

The visitor, clearly anything but reliant on this assurance, doggedly muttered “Alfred David.”

“Is that your name?” asked Lightwood.

“My name?” returned the man. “No; I want to take a Alfred David.”

(Which Eugene smoking and contemplating him, interpreted as meaning Affidavit.)

“I tell you, my good fellow,” said Lightwood, with his indolent laugh, “that I have nothing to do with swearing.”

“He can swear at you,” Eugene explained; “and so can I. But we can’t do more for you.”

Much discomfited by this information, the visitor turned the drowned dog or cat, puppy or kitten, about and about, and looked from one of the Governors Both to the other of the Governors Both, while he deeply considered within himself. At length he decided:

“Then I must be took down.”

“Where?” asked Lightwood.

“Here,” said the man. “In pen and ink.”

“First, let us know what your business is about.”

“It’s about,” said the man, taking a step forward, dropping his hoarse voice, and shading it with his hand, “it’s about from five to ten thousand pound reward. That’s what it’s about. It’s about Murder. That’s what it’s about.”

“Come nearer the table. Sit down. Will you have a glass of wine?”

“Yes, I will,” said the man; “and I don’t deceive you, Governors.”

It was given him. Making a stiff arm to the elbow, he poured the wine into his mouth, tilted it into his right cheek, as saying, “What do you think of it?” tilted it into his left cheek, as saying, “What do you think of it?” jerked it into his stomach, as saying, “What do you think of it?” To conclude, smacked his lips, as if all three replied, “We think well of it.”

“Will you have another?”

“Yes, I will,” he repeated, “and I don’t deceive you, Governors.” And also repeated the other proceedings.