Pratt gave his evidence tersely and admirably. On Saturday morning he had seen an advertisement in the Barford newspapers which stated that a steward and agent was wanted for the Normandale Estate, and all applications were to be made to Mrs. Mallathorpe. Desirous of applying for the post, he had written out a formal letter during Saturday morning, had obtained a testimonial from his present employers, Messrs. Eldrick & Pascoe, and, anxious to present his application as soon as possible, had decided to take it to Normandale Grange himself, that afternoon. He had left Barford by the two o'clock train, which arrived at Normandale at two-thirty-five. Knowing the district well, he had taken the path through the plantations. Arrived at the foot-bridge, he had at once noticed that part of it had fallen in. Looking into the cutting, he had seen a man lying in the roadway beneath--motionless. He had scrambled down the side of the cutting, discovered that the man was Mr. Harper Mallathorpe, and that he was dead, and had immediately hurried up the road to the house, where he had informed the last witness and Miss Mallathorpe. A quite plain story, evidently thought everybody--no questions needed. Nor were there any questions needed in the case of the only other witnesses--the estate carpenter who said that the foot-bridge was very old, but that he had not been aware that it was in quite so bad a condition, and who gave it as his opinion that the recent heavy rains had had something to do with the matter; and the doctor who testified that the victim had suffered injuries which would produce absolutely instantaneous death. A clear case--nothing could be clearer, said the coroner to his obedient jury, who presently returned the only verdict--one of accidental death--which, on the evidence, was possible. Collingwood heard no comments on the inquest from those who were present. But that evening, as he sat in his parlour at the _Normandale Arms_, the landlord, coming in on pretence of attending to the fire, approached him with an air of mystery and jerked his thumb in the direction of the regions which he had just quitted. "You remember what we were talking of this afternoon when you come in, sir?" he whispered. "There's some of 'em--regular nightly customers, village folk, you understand--talking of the same thing now, and of this here inquest. And if you'd like to hear a bit of what you may call local opinion--and especially one man's--I'll put you where you can hear it, without being seen. It's worth hearing, anyway." Collingwood, curious to know what the village wiseacres had to say, rose, and followed the landlord into a small room at the back of the bar-parlour.