The ways of the hour

by James Fenimore Cooper

As soon as the inquest was organized, the coroner directed a physician of the neighbourhood to be put on the stand. It had gone forth that a “city doctor” had intimated that neither of the skeletons was that of Peter Goodwin, and there was a common wish to confront him with a high country authority. It was while the medical man now in request was sent for, that McBrain pointed out to Dunscomb the person of Mary Monson. She sat in a corner different from that she had occupied the day before, seemingly for the same purpose, or that of being alone. Alone she was not, strictly, however; a respectable-looking female, of middle age, being at her side. This was a Mrs. Jones, the wife of a clergyman, who had charitably offered the suspected young stranger a home under her own roof, pending the investigation. It was thought, generally, that Mary Monson had but very vague notions of the distrust that rested on her, it being a part of the plan of those who were exercising all their wits to detect the criminal, that she was first to learn this fact in open court, and under circumstances likely to elicit some proofs of guilt. When Dunscomb learned this artifice, he saw how ungenerous and unmanly it was, readily imagined a dozen signs of weakness that a female might exhibit in such a strait, that had no real connection with crime, and felt a strong disposition to seek an interview, and put the suspected party on her guard. It was too late for this, however, just then; and he contented himself, for the moment, with studying such signs of character and consciousness as his native sagacity and long experience enabled him to detect.

Although nothing could be more simple or unpretending than the attire of Mary Monson, it was clearly that of a lady. Everything about her denoted that station, or origin; though everything about her, as Dunscomb fancied, also denoted a desire to bring herself down, as nearly as possible, to the level of those around her, most probably that she might not attract particular attention.[attention.] Our lawyer did not exactly like this slight proof of management, and wished it were not so apparent. He could see the hands, feet, figure, hair, and general air of the female he was so strangely called on to make the subject of his investigations, but he could not yet see her face. The last was again covered with a cambric handkerchief, the hand which held it being ungloved. It was a pretty little American hand; white, well-proportioned, and delicate. It was clear, that neither its proportions nor its colour had been changed by uses unsuited to its owner’s sex or years. But it had no ring, in this age of be-jewelled fingers. It was the left hand, moreover, and the fourth finger, like all the rest, had no ornament, or sign of matrimony. He inferred from this, that the stranger was unmarried; one of the last things that a wife usually lays aside being her wedding-ring. The foot corresponded with the hand, and was decidedly the smallest, best-formed, and best-decorated foot in Biberry. John Wilmeter thought it the prettiest he had ever seen. It was not studiously exhibited, however, but rested naturally and gracefully in its proper place. The figure generally, so far as a capacious shawl would allow of its being seen, was pleasing, graceful, and a little remarkable for accuracy of proportions, as well as of attire.

Once or twice Mrs. Jones spoke to her companion; and it was when answering some question thus put, that Dunscomb first got a glimpse of his intended client’s face. The handkerchief was partly removed, and remained so long enough to enable him to make a few brief observations. It was then that he felt the perfect justice of his friend’s description. It was an indescribable countenance, in all things but its effect; which was quite as marked on the lawyer, as it had been on the physician. But the arrival of Dr. Coe put an end to these observations, and drew all eyes on that individual, who was immediately sworn. The customary preliminary questions were put to this witness, respecting[respecting] his profession, length of practice, residence, &c., when the examination turned more on the matter immediately under investigation.[investigation.]

“You see those objects on the table, doctor?” said the coroner. “What do you say they are?”

“Ossa hominum; human bones, much defaced and charred by heat.[heat.]”

“Do you find any proof about them of violence committed, beyond the damage done by fire?”

“Certainly. There is the os frontis of each fractured by a blow; a common blow, as I should judge.”

“What do you mean, sir, by a common blow? An accidental, or an intentional blow?”

“By common blow, I mean that one blow did the damage to both cranys.”

“Crany?—how do you spell that word, doctor? Common folks get put out by foreign tongues.”