Page:Lippincotts Monthly Magazine-39.djvu/77

Rh I sneaks up an' I sneaks down, an' I stops an' listens, an' oncet I thought I 'ad 'im sure enough, but 'twas only a rabbit, yer honor. An' thinks I, 'This 'ere's a rum way of passin' the night,' I thinks. Well, it might be two in the mornin', yer honor, when I 'ears somethin'; an' says I to myself, 'Was that a pistol,' says I, 'or wasn't it?' With that I begins nosin' round a bit, gettin' more an' more hover towards Master Henry's beat, as it might be, but nothin' at all does I see, yer honor, till says I, 'You're naught but a fool to be thinkin' it, Tom,' says I. I was just below, alongside the cliff, when I spoke them words, yer honor, when what does I see, it might be ten yards hoff, but a—but a black—a black 'eap o' somethin'" At this point Tom snivelled, and broke down, and there was a pause in the proceedings.

"In short, you discovered what turned out to be the deceased?" said the examiner.

"An' it went nigh for to break my 'art, it did," said Tom, in a tremulous voice. Ardly cold, 'e was; an' 'twas honly when I see 'is 'air that I knowed 'im; an' there was an 'ole clean through him, yer honor, an'—dang the devil what did it, whoever he be!" exclaimed Tom, with sudden vehemence; and then he broke down once more, and wept bitterly.

After a while he went on to tell how he left the body lying there, and, returning to the house, knocked at my door; how he found me just awaking from sleep, propped up in my chair with pillows and bandages, and how at first he had great difficulty in making me comprehend what had happened. "But as quick as Master Frank got the rights of it," he added, "he 'ops up, an' hoff 'e starts, with no more 'eed to his bad foot than nothin' at all; an' thinks I to myself, 'The doctor's a quiet man till 'e's awake,' thinks I, 'but 'e's got the grit of a two-year-old winner when 'e gets started,' thinks I." Then he related our meeting with John, and how we carried the body home, and how he went for the coroner; and thus concluded his interesting deposition, which had stirred both tears and smiles in many. At the end, "he left the stand without a stain upon his character," as the newspapers say.

John's experience was, naturally, of a very different complexion. He bore himself throughout like a man and like a gentleman, with a dignity and composure which were never so marked in him before. He proved himself in every respect worthy of the name of Mainwaring. The legal gentlemen treated him with the highest respect; but it was evident that his examination aroused much greater interest than Tom's had done. The most critical feature of it was the unexpected exhuming of the old quarrel between John and Henry about Sinfire. How this affair had come to the knowledge of outside persons I cannot