“The natural deduction to be drawn is, that if the deceased was flung over, it was by one of St. Peter’s boys—though the probability is that he did not intend to inflict much injury,” observed one of the jury to the rest. “Boys are so reprehensibly thoughtless. Come, Harry Dance! if you did not give him a push yourself, you can tell, I dare say, who did.”
But Dance, with tears in his eyes, affirmed that he knew no more than he had told: he had not the least notion who the boy was that had been quarrelling with King. He saw none of the boys, St. Peter’s boys or college boys, about the hill at that time; though he was looking out for them, because he wanted to find Ferrar: and he knew no more than the dead what boy it was who had run away, for he saw nothing but his arm and a green handkerchief.
“Did you find Ferrar after that?” resumed the coroner.
“Yes, sir; not long after. I found him looking for me round on t’other side of St. Ann’s Well.”
“By the way—on which side of St. Ann’s Well is situated the spot where you heard the quarrel?”
“On the right-hand side, sir, looking down the hill,” said the boy. And by the stress laid on the “down” I judged him to be given to exactness. “I know the place, sir. If you take a sideway path from the Well bearing down’ards, you come to it. It’s shady and quiet there; a place that nobody hardly finds out.”
“Did you say anything to Ferrar, when you found him, of what you had heard?”
“No, sir. I didn’t think any more about it. I didn’t think any harm had been done.”
“But you did mention it to Ferrar the next morning?”
“Yes, sir, I had heard of it, then.”