There was an old black servant, quite black, who had been a valet in
the Tichborne family. His name was Bogle; and the Claimant was told by
the poor old dowager that if he could meet with him, Bogle could tell
him a good many things about himself.
Bogle was an excellent diplomatist, and no sooner heard from Lady
Tichborne that her son Roger was in Australia than the two began to
look for one another, the one as black inside as the other was out.
Bogle announced that he was the man before he saw him, on the mother's
recommendation, and became and was to the end one of his principal
supporters--so much so that "Old Bogle" spread the Claimant's
knowledge of the Tichbornes abroad, and, like everybody else, believed
in him because he knew so much which he could not have known unless he
had been the veritable Roger, all which Bogle had told him.
But in the interests of justice "Old Bogle" and Mr. Hawkins became
acquainted, much to the advantage of the latter, as he happened to
meet Bogle in the witness-box, a place where the counsel unravelled
the trickster's most subtle of designs. The advocate liked "Old
Bogle," as he called him, because, said he, Bogle, having white hair,
was so like a Malacca cane with a silver knob, white at the top and
black below.
Bogle had sworn that Roger had no tattoo marks when he left England.
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