‘So we are trying it, aren’t we?’ rebuked the man who had been the first to blurt out the fatal word, and who was a farmer from near the same place.
‘You may be, Mr. Rees,’ returned the boat proprietor, with what was intended for biting sarcasm.
‘Come, gentlemen, gentlemen,’ said the foreman impressively, ‘let us remember that we are engaged on a case of life and death. We have got to come at the truth somehow, and we must do what we can by ourselves.’
‘They should have give us more evidence,’ objected Mr. Jenkins. ‘What did they want to make so much fuss about those jewels for?’
‘Aye, and there was another thing,’ said the Porthstone farmer; ‘did you notice that when Mr. Lewis wanted to say why he suspected her, the judge wouldn’t let un?’
‘Well, she’s an orphan,’ said the tailor, ‘and her father was Rector of Porthstone for thirty years, and I say we ought to let her off.’
‘For shame, John,’ said the watchmaker, who happened to be his next-door neighbour; ‘don’t you know we’ve got to decide according to the evidence?’
The tailor hung his head.
Then the foreman interposed again.