"No," I answered with a shudder.
"At the inquest it was not mentioned, I think, that he had been seen in the village?"
"It was not," I admitted. "Most of the people were at Colonel Ray's lecture. He spoke to one girl, a Miss Moyat."
"She did not give evidence."
"I thought," I said in a low tone, "that she had better not."
"Did you hear anything after Ray left?" he asked suddenly.
I could have cried out, but my tongue seemed dry in my throat.
"There was a sound," I muttered, "I fancied that it was a cry. But I could not tell. The wind was blowing, and the sea and rain! No, I could not tell."
He rose up.
"You appear," he said drily, "to have discretion. Cultivate it! It is a great gift. I shall look for you at eleven o'clock in the morning. I am having a large house party this week, and amongst them will be our friends."