"You promised him an annuity?"
"Yes--not a very large one--only fifty pounds a year; but he was quite satisfied with that promise."
"He had some claim upon you, then?"
"No, he had no claim whatever upon me," replied Mr. Dunbar, haughtily.
Of course, it could be scarcely pleasant for a millionaire to be cross-questioned in this manner by an impertinent Hampshire coroner.
The jurymen sympathized with the banker.
The coroner looked rather puzzled.
"If the deceased had no claim upon you, why did you promise him an annuity?" he asked, after a pause.
"I made that promise for the sake of "auld lang syne,"" answered Mr.
Dunbar. "Joseph Wilmot was a favourite servant of mine five-and-thirty years ago. We were young men together. I believe that he had, at one time, a very sincere affection for me. I know that I always liked him."
"How long were you in the grove with the deceased?"
"Not more than ten minutes."
"And you cannot describe the spot where you left him?"
"Not very easily; I could point it out, perhaps, if I were taken there."
"What time elapsed between your leaving the cathedral yard with the deceased and your returning to it without him?"
"Perhaps half an hour."
"Not longer?"
"No; I do not imagine that it can have been longer."
"Thank you, Mr. Dunbar; that will do for the present," said the coroner.
The banker returned to his seat.
Arthur Lovell, still watching him, saw that his strong white hand trembled a little as his fingers trifled with those glittering toys hanging to his watch-chain.
The verger was the next person examined.
He described how he had been loitering in the yard of the cathedral as the two men pa.s.sed across it. He told how they had gone by arm-in-arm, laughing and talking together.
"Which of them was talking as they pa.s.sed you?" asked the coroner.
"Mr. Dunbar."
"Could you hear what he was saying?"
"No, sir. I could hear his voice, but I couldn"t hear the words."
"What time elapsed between Mr. Dunbar and the deceased leaving the cathedral yard, and Mr. Dunbar returning alone?"
The verger scratched his head, and looked doubtfully at Henry Dunbar.
That gentleman was looking straight before him, and seemed quite unconscious of the verger"s glance.
"I can"t quite exactly say how long it was, sir," the old man answered, after a pause.
"Why can"t you say exactly?"
"Because, you see, sir, I didn"t keep no particular "count of the time, and I shouldn"t like to tell a falsehood."
"You must not tell a falsehood. We want the truth, and nothing but the truth."
"I know, sir; but you see I am an old man, and my memory is not as good as it used to be. I _think_ Mr. Dunbar was away an hour."
Arthur Lovell gave an involuntary start. Every one of the jurymen looked suddenly at Mr. Dunbar.
But the Anglo-Indian did not flinch. He was looking at the verger now with a quiet steady gaze, which seemed that of a man who had nothing to fear, and who was serene and undisturbed by reason of his innocence.
"We don"t want to know what you _think_," the coroner said; "you must tell us only what you are certain of."
"Then I"m not certain, sir."
"You are not certain that Mr. Dunbar was absent for an hour?"
"Not quite certain, sir."
"But very nearly certain. Is that so?"
"Yes, sir, I"m very nearly certain. You see, sir, when the two gentlemen went through the yard, the cathedral clock was chiming the quarter after four; I remember that. And when Mr. Dunbar came back, I was just going away to my tea, and I seldom go to my tea until it"s gone five."
"But supposing it to have struck five when Mr. Dunbar returned, that would only make it three quarters of an hour after the time at which he went through the yard, supposing him to have gone through, as you say, at the quarter past four."
The verger scratched his head again.
"I"d been loiterin" about yesterday afternoon, sir," he said; "and I was a bit late thinkin" of my tea."
"And you believe, therefore, that Mr. Dunbar was absent for an hour?"
"Yes, sir; an hour--or more."
"An hour, or more?"
"Yes, sir."
"He was absent more than an hour; do you mean to say that?"