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Page 39
The butler, a solemn-faced, respectable type of the old family
serving-man, spoke as to his identification of the dead master's body,
and gave his evidence in a few sentences. Mr. Mallathorpe, he said, had
gone out of the front door of the Grange at half-past two on Saturday
afternoon, carrying a gun, and had turned into the road leading towards
the South Shrubbery. At about three o'clock Mr. Pratt had come running
up the drive to the house, and told him and Miss Mallathorpe that he had
just found Mr. Mallathorpe lying dead in the sunken cut between the
South and North Shrubbery. Nobody had any question to ask the butler.
Nor were any questions asked of Pratt--the one really important witness.
Pratt gave his evidence tersely and admirably. On Saturday morning he
had seen an advertisement in the Barford newspapers which stated that a
steward and agent was wanted for the Normandale Estate, and all
applications were to be made to Mrs. Mallathorpe. Desirous of applying
for the post, he had written out a formal letter during Saturday
morning, had obtained a testimonial from his present employers, Messrs.
Eldrick & Pascoe, and, anxious to present his application as soon as
possible, had decided to take it to Normandale Grange himself, that
afternoon. He had left Barford by the two o'clock train, which arrived
at Normandale at two-thirty-five. Knowing the district well, he had
taken the path through the plantations. Arrived at the foot-bridge, he
had at once noticed that part of it had fallen in. Looking into the
cutting, he had seen a man lying in the roadway beneath--motionless. He
had scrambled down the side of the cutting, discovered that the man was
Mr. Harper Mallathorpe, and that he was dead, and had immediately
hurried up the road to the house, where he had informed the last witness
and Miss Mallathorpe.
A quite plain story, evidently thought everybody--no questions needed.
Nor were there any questions needed in the case of the only other
witnesses--the estate carpenter who said that the foot-bridge was very
old, but that he had not been aware that it was in quite so bad a
condition, and who gave it as his opinion that the recent heavy rains
had had something to do with the matter; and the doctor who testified
that the victim had suffered injuries which would produce absolutely
instantaneous death. A clear case--nothing could be clearer, said the
coroner to his obedient jury, who presently returned the only
verdict--one of accidental death--which, on the evidence, was possible.
Collingwood heard no comments on the inquest from those who were
present. But that evening, as he sat in his parlour at the _Normandale
Arms_, the landlord, coming in on pretence of attending to the fire,
approached him with an air of mystery and jerked his thumb in the
direction of the regions which he had just quitted.
"You remember what we were talking of this afternoon when you come in,
sir?" he whispered. "There's some of 'em--regular nightly customers,
village folk, you understand--talking of the same thing now, and of this
here inquest. And if you'd like to hear a bit of what you may call local
opinion--and especially one man's--I'll put you where you can hear it,
without being seen. It's worth hearing, anyway."
Collingwood, curious to know what the village wiseacres had to say,
rose, and followed the landlord into a small room at the back of the
bar-parlour.
An open hatchment in the wall, covered by a thin curtain, allowed him to
hear every word which came from what appeared to be a full company. But
it was quickly evident that in that company there was one man who either
was, or wished to be dictator and artifex--a man of loud voice and
domineering tone, who was laying down the law to the accompaniment of
vigorous thumpings of the table at which he sat. "What I say is--and I
say it agen---I reckon nowt at all o' crowners' quests!" he was
affirming, as Collingwood and his guide drew near the curtained opening.
"What is a crowner's quest, anyway? It's nowt but formality--all form
and show--it means nowt. All them 'at sits on t' jury does and says just
what t' crowner tells 'em to say and do. They nivver ax no questions out
o' their own mouths--they're as dumb as sheep--that's what yon jury wor
this mornin'--now then!"
"That's James Stringer, the blacksmith," whispered the landlord, coming
close to Collingwood's elbow. "He thinks he knows everything!"
"And pray, what would you ha' done, Mestur Stringer, if you'd been on
yon jury?" inquired a milder voice. "I suppose ye'd ha' wanted to know a
bit more, what?" "Mestur Stringer 'ud ha' wanted to know a deal more,"
observed another voice. "He would do!"
"There's a many things I want to know," continued the blacksmith, with a
stout thump of the table. "They all tak' it for granted 'at young squire
walked on to yon bridge, an' 'at it theer and then fell to pieces. Who
see'd it fall to pieces? Who was theer to see what did happen?"
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