‘Oh, it was common talk in Porthstone,’ was the answer. ‘They knew each other ever since they was children, and he used to come down every summer and go about with her. That’s what made him so fierce against Mr. Lewis, you may depend.’
‘And did you know her?’ ‘What was she like, really?’ ‘What do you think of her?’ broke from several voices as the whole jury clustered round the little man.
But he drew in his horns at once.
‘Don’t ask me anything,’ he said. ‘I’ve mended her watch, and I always thought she was all right up to this, but the Lord only knows whether she did it.’ He paused, and then, as if there were some vague connection in his mind between this charge and a general disposition towards acts of dishonesty, he added: ‘She always paid me regular.’
Perhaps the jury scented an underlying distrust in this. At any rate, one of them said:
‘I watched the judge carefully all through, and I saw him frown at her several times. To my mind he meant us to say guilty.’
The word came with a little shock to the men. They instinctively realized its terrible gravity as falling from their lips. The tall, thin tailor put in his word again:
‘Anyhow, he said there was no evidence of motive.’
‘Except they jewels,’ corrected the farmer.
‘Ah, but there was nothing came out about them.’