“Did you recognize his figure as that of anybody belonging to this neighbourhood?”
For the first time since his appearance in the witness-box, Grimsdale began to show signs of hesitation. He paused, shaking his head.
“Well, sir, you’ll bear in mind, if you please, that it was not as light as it might have been,” he answered. “It’s difficult, at that time of morning.”
“Did you form any idea at the time as to who the man was?” enquired the Coroner.
“Well, I certainly did have a notion—a sort of thought,” admitted Grimsdale.
“What was it?”
Grimsdale hesitated again.
“It was only a notion,” he said at last. “Just—just the sort of thing that comes into one’s mind, like. I’d rather not say!”
“I’m afraid you must say, Grimsdale. You evidently, on seeing him, had some notion as to the identity of the third man. Now, what was it?”
“Well, sir, if I must, I must! I wondered—only wondered, mind you, gentlemen—if it wasn’t Mr. Harborough.”