‘No sir. It was got for me.’

‘By whom?’

‘By Mr Parish, sir. I axed him and he kindly fetched it. I would like to say, sir, that when he give it to me ‘twas all sealed up chemist fashion.’

‘N-n yes. Do you know the nature of this poison?’

‘I do believe, sir, it was in the nature of prussic acid. It’s not marked anything but poison.’

‘Please tell the jury how you used this substance and when?’

Abel wetted his lips and repeated his story. He had used the rat poison on Thursday evening, the evening of Watchman’s arrival. He had taken great care and used every precaution. A small vessel had been placed well inside the mouth of the rat hole and some of the fluid poured into it. The hole was plugged up with rags and the bottle carefully corked. No waste drops of the fluid had escaped. Abel had worn old gloves which he afterwards threw on the fire. He had placed the bottle in a corner cupboard in the ingle-nook. It had stood alone on the shelf and the label ‘Poison’ could be seen through the glass door. Every one in the house was aware of the bottle and its contents.

‘We have heard that the iodine was taken from a cupboard in the ingle-nook. Was this the same cupboard?’

‘ ‘Ess fay,’ said Abel quickly, ‘but ‘twasn’t same shelf, sir. ‘Twas in a tin box in another shelf and with a different door, but same piece of furniture.’

‘You fetched the iodine?’

‘So I did, then, and it was snug and tight in first-aid tin same as it always is. And, axing your pardon, sir, I used a dab of that same iodine on Bob Legge’s chin only that evening and there the man is as fit as a flea to bear witness.’

‘Quite. Thank you, Mr Pomeroy. Call Bernard Noggins, chemist of Illington.’

Mr Bernard Noggins could have been called nothing else. His eyes watered, his face was pink, his mouth hung open, and he suffered from hay fever. He was elderly and vague, and he obviously went in great terror of the coroner. He was asked if he remembered Mr Parish’s visit to his shop. He said he did.

‘Mr Parish asked you for a rat-poison?’

‘Yes. Yes, he did.’

‘What did you supply?’

‘I—er—I no proprietary rat-bane in stock,’ began Mr Noggins miserably, ‘and no arsenic. So I suggested that the fumes of a cyanide preparation might prove beneficial.’

‘Might prove what?’

‘Efficacious. I suggested Scheele’s acid.’

‘You sold Mr Parish Scheele’s acid?’

‘Yes. No—I—actually—I diluted—I mean I added—I mean I produced a more concentrated solution by adding HCN. I—er—I supplied a 50% solution. Yes.’

The coroner dropped his pen and gazed at Mr Noggins, who went on in a great hurry.