The documents concerning that complaint--that is to say, the documents upon which we are to presume that the prisoner was at work during tine half-hour in question--were at the time in my possession in my own private study and in another wing of the building altogether." Sir Terence sat down amid a rustling stir that ran through the court, but was instantly summoned to his feet again by the president.
"A moment, Sir Terence.

The prisoner will no doubt desire to question you on that statement." And he looked with serious eyes at Captain Tremayne.
"I have no questions for Sir Terence, sir," was his answer.
Indeed, what question could he have asked?
The falsehoods he had uttered had woven themselves into a rope about his neck, and he stood before his brother officers now in an agony of shame, a man discredited, as he believed.
"But no doubt you will desire the presence of the Commissary-General ?" This was from Colonel Fletcher his own colonel and a man who esteemed him--and it was asked in accents that were pleadingly insistent.
"What purpose could it serve, sir?
Sir Terence's words are partly confirmed by the evidence he has just elicited from Sergeant Flynn and his butler Mullins.

Since he spent the night writing a letter to the Commissary, it is not to be doubted that the subject would be such as he states, since from my own knowledge it was the most urgent matter in our hands.

And, naturally, he would not have written without having the documents at his side.

To summon the Commissary-General would be unnecessarily to waste the time of the court.