change at breakfast, which he wanted at seven-thirty sharp. He then went out. I made up the fire, saw that all was comfortable and ready, and about half-past ten, after I’d closed the house for the night, I laid the supper myself, as my wife wasn’t well and had gone to bed early in the evening. At five minutes to eleven he came back.” “Alone?” asked the Coroner. “Yes, sir, alone. He remained alone, in that parlour, until an hour later. Then, at five minutes to twelve, I heard a knock at the door. I went and opened it, and found Mr. Guy Markenmore there.” “You knew who he was?—you recognized him?” “Oh yes, sir—I knew Mr. Guy well enough in the old days. He hadn’t altered much.” “Had you any conversation with him?” “Just a bit, sir. He said, ‘Hullo, Grimsdale, how are you? I heard you’d blossomed into a full-blown landlord,’—that sort of thing, sir—he was always a gentleman for his joke.” “Did he seem in good spirits?” “The best, sir! He stood in the hall, laughing and talking a bit about old times, when I used to see him in the hunting field. Then he said, sudden-like, ‘I believe you’ve got a gentleman here who’s expecting me?’ I said we had, and took him straight to the parlour where the strange gentleman was waiting. I showed him in and closed the door on them.” “Did you hear any greeting exchanged between them, Grimsdale?” “Well, sir, I just heard the strange gentleman say, ‘Hello, Markenmore!’ and I heard Sir Guy say, ‘Hello, old chap, sorry to be so late.’ That was all, sir.” “You didn’t hear Mr. Guy mention the other man’s name?” “No, sir.” “Neither then nor at any other time?” “I never had any further chance, sir. I never went into the room again. The supper was all ready for them. I’d taken in the bottle of whisky and the soda-water which the gentleman had ordered, and the fire was made up. The gentleman had told me, when he came in the second time, that he and the friend he was expecting would very likely sit up very late, as they’d a lot of business to talk over, and he said that if I wanted to go to bed he’d let his friend out, and see that the front door was fast and the parlour lights turned out.” “Did you go to bed?” “No, sir, I did not. I sit up late myself, as a rule, and I thought that what he meant by late would perhaps be half-past one, or so. I’d my own supper to get, too, and after I’d had it I sat up smoking in the bar.” “Did you hear anything of the two men in the parlour?” “Well, sir, I once or twice crossed the hall, and I could hear them talking.” “Just ordinary tones, I suppose? What I mean is you didn’t hear any sounds of quarrelling—high voices, or anything of that sort?” “Oh no, sir! Just ordinary tones.” “Very well. Now then, you said just now that there was one man with Guy Markenmore until two o’clock, and after that there were two men with him until three. What exactly do you mean by that?”