’All I want to know, Mr Bozzle, is, whether Colonel Osborne has been at the Clock House?’

’He has been there, Mr Trewillian.  There is no earthly dobt about that.  From hour to hour I can tell you pretty nearly where he’s been since he left London.’  Then Bozzle took out his memorandum-book.

‘I don’t care about all that,’ said Trevelyan.

’I dare say not, sir; but it may be wanted all the same.  Any gentleman acting in our way can’t be too particular, can’t have too many facts.  The smallest little tiddly things, and Bozzle as he said this seemed to enjoy immensely the flavour of his own epithet ’the smallest little “tiddly” things do so often turn up trumps when you get your evidence into court.’

‘I’m not going to get any evidence into court.’

’Maybe not, sir.  A gentleman and lady is always best out of court as long as things can hang on any way, but sometimes things won’t hang on no way.’

Trevelyan, who was conscious that the employment of Bozzle was discreditable, and whose affairs in Devonshire were now in the hands of, at any rate, a more honourable ally, was at present mainly anxious to get rid of the ex-policeman.  ’I have no doubt you’ve been very careful, Mr Bozzle,’ said he.

‘There isn’t no one in the business could be more so, Mr Trewillian.’

’And you have found out what it was necessary that I should know.  Colonel Osborne did go to the Clock House?’

’He was let in at the front door on Friday the 5th by Sarah French, the housemaid, at 10.37 a.m., and was let out again by the same young woman at 11.44 a.m.  Perhaps you’d like to have a copy of the entry, Mr Trewillian?’.

‘No, no, no.’

’It doesn’t matter.  Of course it’ll be with me when it’s wanted.  Who was with him, exactly, at that time, I can’t say.  There is things, Mr Trewillian, one can’t see.  But I don’t think as he saw neither Mrs Stanbury, nor Miss Stanbury not to speak to.  I did just have one word, promiscuous, with Sarah French, after he was gone.  Whether the other young lady was with ’em or not, and if so for how long, I can’t say.  There is things, Mr Trewillian, which one can’t see.’

How Trevelyan hated the man as he went on with his odious details, details, not one of which possessed the slightest importance.  ’It’s all right, I dare say, Mr Bozzle.  And now about the account.’

’Quite so, Mr Trewillian.  But there was one question—­just one question.’

‘What question?’ said Trevelyan, almost angrily.

’And there’s another thing I must tell you, too, Mr Trewillian.  I come back to town in the same carriage with the Colonel.  I thought it better.’

‘You did not tell him who you were?’

’No, Mr Trewillian; I didn’t tell him that.  I don’t think he’d say if you was to ask him that I told him much of anything.  No, Mr Trewillian, I didn’t tell him nothing.  I don’t often tell folks much till the time comes.  But I thought it better, and I did have a word or two with the gent, just a word or two.  He’s not so very downy, isn’t the Colonel for one that’s been at it so long, Mr Trewillian.’