Mrs. Bingley, recalled, reluctantly admitted having given deceased an afternoon off about the date in question. The girl had returned to the house before six o’clock.
Reuben Henstridge called, repeated his evidence given on the day of the Inquest, omitting only, or abridging, such parts of it as bore on the movements of the Frenchman, and excluding altogether—by tacit consent, it seemed—those references to the butler’s approach which had brought such a confusion of cross-questioning about his ears. The following bodeful catechism then ensued:—
Q. You say it was ten minutes past two when you saw Cabanis break from the copse and go down towards the road?
A. Aye.
Q. And that, having hung about after seeing him, you eventually returned to the Red Deer inn, reaching it at about 3.30?
A. That’s it.
Q. At what time did you start to return to the inn?
A. Three o’clock, or a bit after.
Q. What had you been doing in the interval?
A. (Sulkily.) That’s my business.