"I shan't volunteer any evidence of any sort," responded Brent. "If I'm confronted with a direct question which necessitates a direct answer, that's another matter. But I don't think you've anything to worry about—I should say that what they want you for is to ask a question or two as to my cousin's movements that night, didn't he call at your house on his way to the Mayor's Parlour? Yes, why that'll be about it!"
"I hope so!" said Mrs. Saumarez, with a sigh of relief. "But—that witness-box, and before all these people—I don't like it."
"Got to be done," observed Brent. "Soon over, though. Now let's get in."
He piloted Mrs. Saumarez and her companion into the borough Court, handed over to the Coroner for the special purposes of his inquest, found them seats in a reserved part, and leaving them went over to the solicitor's table, where he took a place by the side of Tansley, already settled there with his notes and papers. Tansley gave him a significant glance, nodding his head sideways at other men near them.
"Going to be a more serious affair, this, than the first was, Brent," he whispered. "These police chaps have either got something up their sleeves or Hawthwaite's got some bee in his bonnet! Anyway, there's a barrister in the case on their behalf—that little, keen-eyed chap at the far end of the table on your left; that's Meeking, one of the sharpest criminal barristers going—and I hear they're meaning to call a lot of new witnesses. But what it's all about, I don't know."
Brent looked up and down the table at which they were sitting. There were men there—legal-looking men—whom he had not seen at the opening day's proceedings.
"Who are these other fellows?" he asked.
"Oh, well, Crood's got a man representing his interests," replied Tansley. "And there's another solicitor watching the case on behalf of the Corporation. And I rather fancy that that chap at the extreme end of the table is representing the Treasury—which may mean that this affair is going to be taken up at Head-quarters. But we know nothing till the cards are on the board! Hawthwaite looks important enough this morning to hold all the aces!"
Brent glanced at the superintendent, who was exchanging whispers with the Coroner's officer, and from him to the crowded seats that ran round three sides of the court. All the notabilities of Hathelsborough were there again, in full force: Simon Crood, in a seat of honour, as befitted his new dignity of Mayor; Mallett; Coppinger, anybody and everybody of consequence. And there, too, was Krevin Crood, and Queenie, and, just behind Mrs. Saumarez, Dr. Wellesley, looking distinctly bored, and his assistant, Dr. Carstairs, a young Scotsman, and near them another medical man, Dr. Barber; and near the witness-box were several men whom Brent knew by sight as townsmen and who were obviously expecting to be called for testimony. He turned away wondering what was to come out of all this.
Once more the Coroner, precise and formal as ever, took his seat; once more the twelve jurymen settled in their places. And while Brent was speculating on the first order of procedure he was startled by the sharp, official voice of the Coroner's officer.