His solicitor tried to show there had not been, there could not be, any premeditation on Bennet's part, and that the deed was done in the heat of passion without there being any real intention to kill the man. He urged that the death of the jockey was of the nature of an accident; his client had certainly struck the blow, but could not know it was likely to be fatal. The most and worst Bennet was guilty of, Deakin contended, was manslaughter.
But the jury were of another mind. Without retiring to consider their verdict, they at once found Bennet guilty of the wilful murder of the jockey.
It was a verdict which met with general approval. The coroner, in accepting it, said the case was one of the most painful nature, but as it would doubtless form matter for the consideration of a higher court, he would make no further comment upon it.
Like hundreds of thousands of people who were following this dark story of the turf with the most absorbing interest, both Kitty and Gilbert saw the finding of the jury, and later that Bennet had been committed for trial at the next assizes on the capital charge. Kitty, wondering miserably what Bennet would do, thereafter received from him a letter, in which he asked her to visit him in prison without delay. By this time he had been removed from Doncaster to York, and thither Kitty went, accompanied by her relative, Mrs. Joicey, that very day, though it was not until the next that she saw him.
Prison life had already told on Bennet, and she observed a marked change in his appearance, which filled her with pity; but the man was in a black, reckless, defiant humour, as she soon noticed; even the near presence of a warder did not deter him from expressing what was in his mind.
"I'm very, very sorry for you, Harry," she said, and there was the sound of tears in her voice. It was the first time, too, since their engagement that she had called him "Harry."
"Sorry!" he cried. "Do you think I believe that? Don't be a hypocrite. You are glad, you must be glad of my misfortune. You think it will set you free!"
"Oh, Harry, do not think of me; think of yourself!"
"Think of myself!" said Bennet, fiercely, implacably. "Can I not think of myself and of others too?"
The girl involuntarily shrank from him.