"What I say is--and I
say it agen---I reckon nowt at all o' crowners' quests!" he was
affirming, as Collingwood and his guide drew near the curtained opening.
"What is a crowner's quest, anyway? It's nowt but formality--all form
and show--it means nowt. All them 'at sits on t' jury does and says just
what t' crowner tells 'em to say and do. They nivver ax no questions out
o' their own mouths--they're as dumb as sheep--that's what yon jury wor
this mornin'--now then!"
"That's James Stringer, the blacksmith," whispered the landlord, coming
close to Collingwood's elbow. "He thinks he knows everything!"
"And pray, what would you ha' done, Mestur Stringer, if you'd been on
yon jury?" inquired a milder voice. "I suppose ye'd ha' wanted to know a
bit more, what?" "Mestur Stringer 'ud ha' wanted to know a deal more,"
observed another voice. "He would do!"
"There's a many things I want to know," continued the blacksmith, with a
stout thump of the table. "They all tak' it for granted 'at young squire
walked on to yon bridge, an' 'at it theer and then fell to pieces. Who
see'd it fall to pieces? Who was theer to see what did happen?"
"What else did happen or could happen nor what were testified to?" asked
a new voice. "Theer wor what they call circumstantial evidence to show
how all t' affair happened!"
"Circumstantial evidence be blowed!" sneered the blacksmith heartily.
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