“How long will they be?” I said.
“I’ll go and inquire if you like,” he said.
He disappeared along the passage. In a moment he came back again. “I don’t think they will be very much longer,” he said. “Mr. de Winter has just given his evidence. Captain Searle, and the diver, and Doctor Phillips have already given theirs. There’s only one more to speak. Mr. Tabb, the boatbuilder from Kerrith.”
“Then it’s nearly over,” I said.
“I expect so, Madam,” he said. Then he said, on a sudden thought, “Would you like to hear the remaining evidence? There is a seat there, just inside the door. If you slip in now nobody will notice you.”
“Yes,” I said. “Yes, I think I will.”
It was nearly over. Maxim had finished giving his evidence. I did not mind hearing the rest. It was Maxim I had not wanted to hear. I had been nervous of listening to his evidence. That was why I had not gone with him and Frank in the first place. Now it did not matter. His part of it was over.
I followed the policeman, and he opened a door at the end of the passage. I slipped in, I sat down just by the door. I kept my head low so that I did not have to look at anybody. The room was smaller than I had imagined. Rather hot and stuffy. I had pictured a great bare room with benches, like a church. Maxim and Frank were sitting down at the other end. The Coroner was a thin, elderly man in pince-nez. There were people there I did not know. I glanced at them out of the tail of my eye. My heart gave a jump suddenly as I recognized Mrs. Danvers. She was sitting right at the back. And Favell was beside her. Jack Favell, Rebecca’s cousin. He was leaning forward, his chin in his hands, his eyes fixed on the Coroner, Mr. Horridge. I had not expected him to be there. I wondered if Maxim had seen him. James Tabb, the boatbuilder, was standing up now and the Coroner was asking him a question.
“Yes, sir,” answered Tabb, “I converted Mrs. de Winter’s little boat. She was a French fishing boat originally, and Mrs. de Winter bought her for next to nothing over in Brittany, and had her shipped over. She gave me the job of converting her and doing her up like a little yacht.”
“Was the boat in a fit state to put to sea?” said the Coroner.
“She was when I fitted her out in April of last year,” said Tabb. “Mrs. de Winter laid her up as usual at my yard in the October, and then in March I had word from her to fit her up as usual, which I did. That would be Mrs. de Winter’s fourth season with the boat since I did the conversion job for her.”
“Had the boat ever been known to capsize before?” asked the Coroner.
“No, sir. I should soon have heard of it from Mrs. de Winter had there been any question of it. She was delighted with the boat in every way, according to what she said to me.”
“I suppose great care was needed to handle the boat?” said the Coroner.
“Well, sir, everyone has to have their wits about them, when they go sailing boats, I won’t deny it. But Mrs. de Winter’s boat wasn’t one of those cranky little craft that you can’t leave for a moment, like some of the boats you see in Kerrith. She was a stout seaworthy boat, and could stand a lot of wind. Mrs. de Winter had sailed her in worse weather than she ever found that night. Why, it was only blowing in fits and starts at the time. That’s what I’ve said all along. I couldn’t understand Mrs. de Winter’s boat being lost on a night like that.”
“But surely, if Mrs. de Winter went below for a coat, as is supposed, and a sudden puff of wind was to come down from that headland, it would be enough to capsize the boat?” asked the Coroner.
James Tabb shook his head. “No,” he said stubbornly, “I don’t see that it would.”
“Well, I’m afraid that is what must have happened,” said the Coroner. “I don’t think Mr. de Winter or any of us suggest that your workmanship was to blame for the accident at all. You fitted the boat out at the beginning of the season, you reported her sound and seaworthy, and that’s all I want to know. Unfortunately the late Mrs. de Winter relaxed her watchfulness for a moment and she lost her life, the boat sinking with her aboard. Such accidents have happened before. I repeat again we are not blaming you.”
“Excuse me, sir,” said the boatbuilder, “but there is a little bit more to it than that. And if you would allow me I should like to make a further statement.”
“Very well, go on,” said the Coroner.
“It’s like this, sir. After the accident last year a lot of people in Kerrith made unpleasantness about my work. Some said I had let Mrs. de Winter start the season in a leaky, rotten boat. I lost two or three orders because of it. It was very unfair, but the boat had sunk, and there was nothing I could say to clear myself. Then that steamer went ashore, as we all know, and Mrs. de Winter’s little boat was found, and brought to the surface. Captain Searle himself gave me permission yesterday to go and look at her, and I did. I wanted to satisfy myself that the work I had put in to her was sound, in spite of the fact that she had been waterlogged for twelve months or more.”