"he had won an
almost unique position." He dreaded this inquest almost more than he
dreaded anything else, for he knew that the inquiry which would be made
would not be hedged in by so many formulae as those which are
associated with the Assizes. The business of this coroner's inquest
would not be to condemn a murderer or even to apprehend a murderer, but
officially to decide upon the means whereby Ned Wilson came to his end,
and, as a consequence, anyone could elect to give evidence, and anyone
could tell not only of what he was sure, but of what he believed. All
sorts of irrelevant matter might be adduced here--gossip, suspicion,
unsupported statement. All belonged to the order of the day. He knew
what Brunford was. On the whole the people were kind-hearted and
well-meaning. Many of them might be coarse and somewhat brutal, but on
the whole they were people he loved. But he knew their morbid interest
in crime, their love of gossip; knew that they were eager to hear and
to discuss every bit of scandal which might be adduced.

The place in which the inquest was held was crowded. The jurymen who
had been sworn had examined the body according to the dictates of the
law, and had now met to decide as to the cause of his death. A number
of people were there, ready to give evidence or to state what they knew
or believed concerning the matter. All were eager, and many enjoyed
the situation as they had not enjoyed anything for years.

"I would not miss being here for a week's work," said one man to
another.

"I see George Preston is over there. He looks pale, does George. It
must be an awful blow to him!"

"Dost believe Stepaside did it?"

"I don't know. I never thought him to be that sort of chap; but then,
you know, he and Ned Wilson have been at it for years."

"I can't see that the motive is sufficient," said another. "What
motive had he for killing Ned Wilson? Here he wur in Parliament, and
making a name for hissen. Is it likely that for a bit of spite he'd
kill a chap in that way? Besides, he's fair clever, is Stepaside.
Would he be such a fooil as to kill him wi' a knife as was known to be
his own?"

"No; but when a man is in a passion he thinks o' nowt. He just becomes
like a savage. And Paul always had a bit of a temper."

"Ay, but he were a quiet chap, too, and he must ha' known that he'd ha'
been suspected. I can't believe that he would be such a fooil--and
yet, as tha ses, nobody know