The letter was then handed to the jury, and after they had read it Henderson’s examination was continued.
“You asked her to go and meet you on the ridge above Fern Dene?”
“I did, but afterward I made up my mind not to go. I got frightened,” answered Henderson, in a low tone, and with downcast eyes. “There had been some talk of a marriage between us, as you may see by what I wrote to her, and I wished to be done with it, that was why I wrote. But I thought afterward I would write again the next day instead of going—I was afraid to meet her.”
“Were you out during the evening of Miss Wray’s death?”
“Yes, for a short time; I went down to the stables.”
“And you never went near Fern Dene?”
“Never; I was in early; my mother and Jack Reid were the only persons I spoke to during the whole evening.”
Jack Reid was recalled, and confirmed this statement.
His master came down to the stables about half-past eight, he said, “and stayed a good bit;” and then he saw him walk toward the house.
Then came the medical evidence. The wound in the throat might have been self-inflicted, or it might not, the doctor deposed. That the fatal shot had been fired quite close to the dead woman there was abundant evidence to prove, but whether inflicted by her own hand it was impossible positively to say. She had been shot on the ridge above Fern Dene, and had either staggered back and fallen over the declivity to the Dene below, or been thrown down. The evidence altogether was of so unsatisfactory a nature, that the inquest was adjourned to enable the police to endeavor to obtain some more positive information. James Wray swore that the revolver found near his daughter’s body was his property, and this was a fact that naturally pointed to suicide. No one else could have obtained this weapon, as Wray deposed he had seen it in its usual place on the morning of Elsie’s death. In her despair at her false lover not keeping his appointment she had probably shot herself, many were inclined to believe, while others did not give credence to Henderson’s statement that he had not been to Fern Dene on the night of her death. At all events neither the coroner nor the jury were satisfied, and the adjourned inquest was appointed to take place in a week. Henderson heard this in sullen silence, and then, after beckoning to Reid, he left the house, without attempting to exchange a word with any of those present. Once he looked at May Churchill as he passed her, but the girl’s eyes fell as they met his. She did not believe that he had shot poor Elsie, but she believed that he had broken her heart, and a strong feeling of womanly indignation filled May’s breast.