Two neighbors corroborated Lem's narration of the finding of the traces of the burglarious entry and the flight of the assassin.
Deacon Harkins volunteered testimony as to having overheard quarrels and interchange of threats of violence between the Van Deust brothers more than once. At this old Peter, who sat near the Squire, became greatly excited. Springing to his feet, trembling with emotion, and with his voice pitched to a high, unnatural key, he cried:
"Yes, it is true. I did threaten my brother—God forgive me!—more than once. I was mean enough, cruel enough, wicked enough to say harsh, spiteful things to wound that gentle soul; but I never meant him harm. No. The One above, who reads all hearts, knows well that I would rather my right hand withered, rather put it into the fire and burn it off than raise it against Jacob's life. We wrangled sometimes, as old men will—no, he didn't, the fault was all mine. And oh, to think that he is gone, without my being able to ask him to forgive me!"
His voice broke, and he dropped exhausted upon a chair, letting his face fall forward upon his arms, on the end of the Squire's table, where he wept bitterly.
"Arthur Wiltsey!" called the Squire.
A stout, plainly dressed, and honest looking countryman took the stand, and, having been sworn, testified:
"Last Thursday afternoon—"
"The day succeeding the discovery of the murder of Jacob Van Deust?" interrupted Squire Bodley.
"Yes, sir. The day after the murder. I was passing through the neck of woods on the lower end of my place—"
"How far is your place from the Van Deusts'?" asked the Squire.