At the present day crimes of a like nature seem to excite but little sympathy—indeed, it is surprising the apathy displayed by the public; regard or pity for the victim or victims of an assassin is never for a moment thought of. Not so, however, was it in the case of the young farmer who met his death in a manner described in our last chapter. Men ran through the streets and stood in knots by the corners, and sat in circles in the alehouses.
There was but one look in their faces—there was but one thought in their minds—this was the earnest desire that the murderer of Philip Jamblin should not escape the fate he so justly merited.
On market day there was a mournful meeting at the ordinary, and most of the farmers wore crape on their hats or sleeves.
The Jamblins were greatly respected, and everyone thought of the bereaved father and the suffering sister.
“Poor Phil Jamblin—he was as brave and honest a chap as ever stepped in shoe leather,” they said, as they shook their heads, “and never did a morsel o’ harm to any one. I’d hang the scoundrel, whoever he may be—hang ’im on the first tree at hand and try ’im arterwards.”
“But who could ha’ done it?” said a neighbouring farmer. “Phil never harmed nor quarrelled wi’ a soul in his life—leastways not as I ever heard of.”
“It must ha’ bin some stranger as did it—a tramp, perhaps,” cried another. “There’s no saying for sartin.”
Many of the young farmers were not content with lamenting Phil, but they scoured the country upon their hunters, examining every strange face with suspicion, and asking questions of all the publicans in the neighbouring villages and towns.
Throngs of persons of almost every denomination flocked to the “Carved Lion.” It had been “noised abroad” that Brickett saw the murderer washing his hands in a pool of water at Larchfield Green. This was enough to bring hosts of inquirers to his house to learn the truth from his own lips.
The worthy host of the “Lion” repeated his statement until he became weary of the narration; but his customers would not let him have any rest—he was forced to comply with their demands.