Jane Pool was then again called, and resumed her important testimony, in the same rapid, narrative, connected style as before.
"I felt dreadfully about the murder, and I don't mind owning I had my suspicions. I said to myself: 'I'll keep an eye on Miss Inez,' and I did, as well as I could. She kept her room nearly all next day. Toward night, Sir Victor was took down with the fever—wild and raving like, and Miss Inez went with Lady Helena to sit with him and watch. I was watching too, Sir Victor's room door. I don't know why, but I seemed to expect something. About nine, or a little later, as I stood at one end of the hall in the shadow, I saw the door open and Miss Inez come out. She looked up and down to see if the coast was clear, then put her shawl over her head, and walked very fast to the opposite end, downstairs and out of the side door. I followed her. It was raining and very dark, and at first I lost her among the trees. Then I heard a whistle, and following it, the next thing I saw was a tall man smoking a cigar, close beside her. It was too dark to see his face; I could just make out that he was very tall. They were talking in whispers, and what with the drip, drip of rain and the rustling of the trees, I couldn't catch at first what they were saying."
"Indeed, Mrs. Pool," the coroner observed at this point, "that is to be regretted. Eavesdropping seems to be your forte."
"I don't think it is any harm to listen in a good cause," Mrs. Pool retorted, sullenly. "If you don't care to have me repeat my eavesdropping, I won't."
"Repeat what you heard, if it bears on this case."
"The first words I heard, were from Miss Inez. She was giving him something—money, I thought, and she said: 'Now go and never come back. Your coming has done evil enough surely.' I couldn't catch his answer. He took what she gave him, and Miss Inez burst out, as she always does, in one of her tearing passions: 'How dare you say so, you wretch! whom it is my bitterest shame to call brother. But for you she would be alive and well—do you think I don't know it? Go! Living or dead, I never want to look upon your face again.'"
The sensation in the court [said the Chesholm Courier] as the witness repeated these words, was something indescribable. A low, angry murmur ran from lip to lip; even the coroner turned pale.
"Witness," he said, "take care! You are on oath, remember. How can you recall accurately word for word what you heard?"
"Are they the sort of words likely to be forgotten?" Jane Pool retorted. "I know I'm on oath; I'll take five hundred oaths to these words, if you like. Those were the very words Miss Inez Catheron spoke. She called him her brother. She said but for him she would be alive to-night. Then he plunged into the wood and disappeared, and she went back to the house. I hav'nt spoken of this to any one since. I wrote the words down when I came in. Here is the writing."
She handed the coroner a slip of paper, on which what she had repeated was written.