“Strangulation, sir, from the influx of water into the larynx, and the consequent exclusion of air.”
“Exactly—exactly, Mr. Cheyleigh; that will do, sir. Did you say your son found the bodies?”
“He and two of his friends.”
“We can examine him, then?”
“Certainly, sir.”
Ned was a little confused as he came forward, and kept passing his hand nervously over his tumbled hair. The Coroner assumed a mild, patronizing air, and said:
“Well, my son, what can you tell us of this affair?” Ned swallowed once or twice, and began:
“After the storm, John Smith, Frank Paning and myself thought we would go over to the banks and take a view of the ocean. When we got over the sky was fair, but the——”
“Never mind about the sky, my son,” interrupts the Coroner, “just tell what you know about the dead man.”
“Well,” resumed Ned, with a long breath, and another swallow, “John Smith saw them first, and we all ran to them and tried to move the man, but found him rather heavy, we then cut the cords, and lifted up the little girl——”