“Yes, sir,” replied the witness firmly, but very reluctantly.
“You saw his face distinctly?”
“Yes, sir. The lanterns was full upon it.”
“And you knew his voice?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Now, how is it you kept silence about your suspicions?”
“Well, sir, I’m not one o’ them as talks a lot. And then, I had no suspicions until the idea cropped up that Mr Hubert had met wi’ foul play. And I didn’t want to injure Mr Roland, and especially Madam,” he added with feeling; “but that there detective chap he seemed to get it all out o’ me like a blessed babby,” concluded he resentfully.
“Quite so. Very natural. That will do,” and Mr Benham sat down.
But the prisoner’s counsel realised that this witness was the most dangerous one of all. Any attempt to browbeat a man of Pollock’s known respectability could not but damage his cause in the eyes of the jury. So he assumed a tone at once conciliatory and deprecatory, as though he would convey the idea that Pollock, though incapable of a false statement, might be mistaken in his inferences throughout.
“Of course, Pollock, you know Mr Dorrien well now, but at that time you didn’t know him very well, did you?”