‘The lighter coat would have made it easier to say it was him, maybe,’ Simon says, ‘but . . . This guy’s a senior French officer in the Napoleonic Wars. I think we can be pretty sure about that, at least.’

‘More than that,’ Brian says. ‘That’s a green jacket or fitted coat under his greatcoat. He’s in the uniform of a colonel of the Chasseurs à Cheval, even down to the sword and the sword knot.’ He points to the tiny bare metal knot and tassel hanging from the hilt of the sword. There’s a seam of gold paint caught between the cord and the man’s thigh.

‘A colonel . . .’ I don’t want to tell Ellen this was just an anonymous colonel, to turn up back in Girdwood talking Walter’s story down. Perhaps, a generation or two back, when this soldier was the last survivor from a set, Napoleon seemed the obvious name to give him.

‘And we know who sometimes wore the uniform of a colonel of the Chasseurs à Cheval,’ Brian says. ‘Don’t we?’

Simon nods. ‘Napoleon.’

‘But is it him? . . . Hang on a tick. That line of red beneath the edge of the chasseur coat . . .’ He steers my hand across so that he can check the soldier again through the magnifying glass. ‘There’s paint loss on the chest, but if that’s the edge of a red sash beneath the jacket – it’s not on the other side, and that fits with it being a sash – and that shape on the left is a star . . .’

Simon breathes in sharply. ‘A chasseur colonel who’s wearing a Legion of Honour Grand Eagle badge? Now you’re talking.’

‘Ha! We should be doing this on Antiques Roadshow.’ Brian straightens up again. ‘There are quite a few hints that it’s Napoleon. It’s a fun game to play, even if there’s a bit too much wear and tear to be certain.’

‘A definite maybe,’ Simon says. ‘Funny old piece, though . . .’