“It is very strange,” said Mr. Woodburn. “The question is, how it can have happened? Can the horse have taken alarm as Mr. Drury was pulling at the chain, and kicked him, or pushed him in by backing? A doctor must be fetched in all haste. He cannot revive him, but he may throw some light on the mysterious occurrence. The body must not be moved till he comes, nor anything about him touched.”
A guard of trusty men was set over the body and boat, and George Woodburn went off to fetch the doctor. The character of the men set over the body on the boat, which was put off to midstream, and the number of spectators on each bank, was sufficient guarantee that no interference with the corpse would take place. Mr. Woodburn, therefore, slowly returned homewards. George, meantime, had ordered his horse, and, with a heart overwhelmed with grief and consternation, had gone to his mother and sister, who were in a condition not to be described.
“But,” said George, “there is a duty that some one must perform—a—a terrible duty; it is to break this awful event to the Drurys. I confess that I am unequal to it, and I must away for the doctor. You, dear mother and sister, cannot bear it.” Both the ladies shook their heads and groaned in agony. “No, no,” said Ann, “impossible.” There was but one person whom George could think of to perform this awful duty, and it must be done at once, or it would reach Bilts’ Farm by a side way—it was Betty Trapps. But Betty at first stoutly refused; she was herself lost in tears and prayers, and said she would sooner be drowned too than carry such ill-tidings. But when she saw George’s distress she said, “Well, what must be, must be,” and at once put on her bonnet and shawl and set out. Betty walked on, wrapped up in her trouble, and making one long prayer the whole way; but how she did it and how she bore it she said afterwards she did not know, but one thing she did know, that nothing should ever induce her to do such an errand, and see such a stunning misery burst upon innocent, loving heads again.
The news of such an event flies fast, and when the doctor came with George from Castleborough, for there was none nearer, there was a great crowd of men, women, and children surrounding the ferry, and a hundred different speculations were passing from mouth to mouth as to the catastrophe George Woodburn’s horse showed, by his reeking skin and panting flanks, at what a rate he had ridden, and the doctor’s smoking horse at what a rate they had returned.
A solemn silence fell over the crowd as the doctor and George walked through it, and beckoning the boat to the shore, entered upon it, and then had it put back a little from the bank again. The doctor had the drowned man’s vest opened; no wound or bruise was apparent; he drew off his hat, which still, though battered down, was upon his head. A gush of congealing blood followed it, and the hair was matted with gore.
“There is the mischief,” said the surgeon. He had a large basin of water brought, washed the head well, and examined it.
“By whatever done,” he said, “the blow is behind. Can it be a kick from his horse? I think not. It does not show the cut of the sharp edge of a horse-shoe, but looks like the blow of some blunt instrument, or of a cudgel. Can he have struck his head in falling on the edge of the boat?” He shook his head thoughtfully. “I think not: but let us examine his pockets; that may indicate whether there has been any robbery in the case.”
That the watch of the deceased had not been taken was evident to them all. It was still attached to its gold chain, and in the fob of his small-clothes waistband, as watches were then worn. From his coat pockets were produced his handkerchief, his spectacles, a knife of many blades, comb, and other things. There was found gold and silver untouched in his purse, and in the breast-pocket his pocket-book, containing some bank-notes of high value, and two or three acceptances just coming due, as if he had put them in his pocket to go to the bank to receive their contents.
“Nothing here,” said the doctor, “warrants the suspicion of any robbery; the thing is a mystery which time and inquiry may clear up. The body must be conveyed to the Grey Goose public-house for the inspection of the inquest to-morrow; let an exact list of the articles found upon the body be made, and kept by Mr. George Woodburn, and I will produce these, the money, purse, pocket-book, watch, &c., to the coroner to-morrow.”
With that the doctor and George Woodburn returned to the village. The doctor took his leave, and the body, laid on a door and covered with a bed-quilt, was carried to the public-house, followed by the silent crowd.