But his eye fell upon Richard when James said that he had witnesses.  He saw an unmistakable look of terror come over his face, and the bitter conviction flashed across him that James’s story was the true one.

“There is no occasion to give him the book, Hobson,” he said, as the constable was about to hand the Testament to one of the fishermen.  “This is a private investigation, not a formal magisterial sitting, and there is no occasion, at this stage, to take any evidence on oath.”

“What is your name, my man?”

“John Mullens, your honour.”

“Well, just tell me, Mullens, what you know about this business.”

“I was a-mending my nets, yer honour, along with Simon Harte, and young Master Walsham was a-sailing his boat in a pool, along with the little gal as lives at his mother’s.”

“How far were you from the spot where he was?” the squire asked.

“Two hundred yards or so, I should say,” the fisherman replied.  “We was working behind a boat, but we could see over it well enough.  Presently we saw Master Horton come down, and stand alongside the others.

“I said to Simon, ’He is a good-looking young fellow, is the squire’s nephew,’” and the fisherman’s eye twinkled with a grim humour, as he glanced at Richard’s swollen face.

“The boat got stuck, and Master Walsham threw something in close to it to get it off.  Then I see Master Horton stoop, and pick up a chunk of stone, and chuck it hard; and it hit the boat and knocked it over.  I see the little girl turn round and say something to Master Horton, and then she put her apron up to her face and began to cry.  He gave her a sort of shove, and she tumbled down into the edge of the pool.

“I says to Simon, ‘What a shame!’ but afore the words was out of my mouth, Master Walsham he hits him, and hits him hard, too.  Then there was a fight, but Master Horton, he hadn’t a chance with James, who gave him as sound a licking as ever you see’d, and ending with knocking him backwards into the pool.  Then he gets up and shakes his fist at James, and then goes off as hard as he could.  That’s all I know about it.”

“It’s a wicked lie,” Richard burst out.  “They have made it up between them.  There was nobody there.”

“Hold your tongue, sir, I tell you,” the squire said, so sternly that Richard, who had risen from his seat, shrank back again and remained silent; while Simon Harte gave his evidence, which was almost identical with that of the other fisherman.

“Have you any other witnesses?” the magistrate asked James.

“Only the little girl, sir, but I did not bring her up.  She is so little, I thought it was better she should not come, but I can send for her if you wish it.”