DarqueDante/test2 · Datasets at Hugging Face

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self-restraint and firmness. As to his remark about his deserts, it
was also not unnatural if you consider that he stood beside the dead
body of his father, and that there is no doubt that he had that very
day so far forgotten his filial duty as to bandy words with him, and
even, according to the little girl whose evidence is so important, to
raise his hand as if to strike him. The self-reproach and contrition
which are displayed in his remark appear to me to be the signs of a
healthy mind rather than of a guilty one."

I shook my head. "Many men have been hanged on far slighter
evidence," I remarked.

"So they have. And many men have been wrongfully hanged."

"What is the young man's own account of the matter?"

"It is, I am afraid, not very encouraging to his supporters, though
there are one or two points in it which are suggestive. You will find
it here, and may read it for yourself."

He picked out from his bundle a copy of the local Herefordshire
paper, and having turned down the sheet he pointed out the paragraph
in which the unfortunate young man had given his own statement of
what had occurred. I settled myself down in the corner of the
carriage and read it very carefully. It ran in this way:

"Mr. James McCarthy, the only son of the deceased, was then called
and gave evidence as follows: 'I had been away from home for three
days at Bristol, and had only just returned upon the morning of last
Monday, the 3rd. My father was absent from home at the time of my
arrival, and I was informed by the maid that he had driven over to
Ross with John Cobb, the groom. Shortly after my return I heard the
wheels of his trap in the yard, and, looking out of my window, I saw
him get out and walk rapidly out of the yard, though I was not aware
in which direction he was going. I then took my gun and strolled out
in the direction of the Boscombe Pool, with the intention of visiting
the rabbit warren which is upon the other side. On my way I saw
William Crowder, the game-keeper, as he had stated in his evidence;
but he is mistaken in thinking that I was following my father. I had
no idea that he was in front of me. When about a hundred yards from
the pool I heard a cry of "Cooee!" which was a usual signal between
my father and myself. I then hurried forward, and found him standing
by the pool. He appeared to be much surprised at seeing me and asked
me rather roughly what I was doing there. A conversation ensued which
led to high words and almost to blows, for my father was a man of a
very violent temper. Seeing that his passion was becoming
ungovernable, I left him and returned towards Hatherley Farm. I had
not gone more than 150 yards, however, when I heard a hideous outcry
behind me, which caused me to run back again. I found my father
expiring upon the ground, with his head terribly injured. I dropped
my gun and held him in my arms, but he almost instantly expired. I
knelt beside him for some minutes, and then made my way to Mr.
Turner's lodge-keeper, his house being the nearest, to ask for
assistance. I saw no one near my father when I returned, and I have
no idea how he came by his injuries. He was not a popular man, being
somewhat cold and forbidding in his manners, but he had, as far as I
know, no active enemies. I know nothing further of the matter.'
"The Coroner: Did your father make any statement to you before he
died?
"Witness: He mumbled a few words, but I could only catch some
allusion to a rat.
"The Coroner: What did you understand by that?
"Witness: It conveyed no meaning to me. I thought that he was
delirious.
"The Coroner: What was the point upon which you and your father had
this final quarrel?
"Witness: I should prefer not to answer.
"The Coroner: I am afraid that I must press it.
"Witness: It is really impossible for me to tell you. I can assure
you that it has nothing to do with the sad tragedy which followed.
"The Coroner: That is for the court to decide. I need not point out
to you that your refusal to answer will prejudice your case
considerably in any future proceedings which may arise.
"Witness: I must still refuse.
"The Coroner: I understand that the cry of 'Cooee' was a common
signal between you and your father?
"Witness: It was.
"The Coroner: How was it, then, that he uttered it before he saw you,
and before he even knew that you had returned from Bristol?
"Witness (with considerable confusion): I do not know.
"A Juryman: Did you see nothing which aroused your suspicions when
you returned on hearing the cry and found your father fatally
injured?
"Witness: Nothing definite.
"The Coroner: What do you mean?
"Witness: I was so disturbed and excited as I rushed out into the
open, that I could think of nothing except of my father. Yet I have a
vague impression that as I ran forward something lay upon the ground
to the left of me. It seemed to me to be something grey in colour, a
coat of some sort, or a plaid perhaps. When I rose from my father I
looked round for it, but it was gone.
"'Do you mean that it disappeared before you went for help?'
"'Yes, it was gone.'
"'You cannot say what it was?'
"'No, I had a feeling something was there.'
"'How far from the body?'
"'A dozen yards or so.'
"'And how far from the edge of the wood?'
"'About the same.'
"'Then if it was removed it was while you were within a dozen yards

self-restraint and firmness. As to his remark about his deserts, it

was also not unnatural if you consider that he stood beside the dead

body of his father, and that there is no doubt that he had that very

day so far forgotten his filial duty as to bandy words with him, and

even, according to the little girl whose evidence is so important, to

raise his hand as if to strike him. The self-reproach and contrition

which are displayed in his remark appear to me to be the signs of a

healthy mind rather than of a guilty one."

I shook my head. "Many men have been hanged on far slighter

evidence," I remarked.

"So they have. And many men have been wrongfully hanged."

"What is the young man's own account of the matter?"

"It is, I am afraid, not very encouraging to his supporters, though

there are one or two points in it which are suggestive. You will find

it here, and may read it for yourself."

He picked out from his bundle a copy of the local Herefordshire

paper, and having turned down the sheet he pointed out the paragraph

in which the unfortunate young man had given his own statement of

what had occurred. I settled myself down in the corner of the

carriage and read it very carefully. It ran in this way:

"Mr. James McCarthy, the only son of the deceased, was then called

and gave evidence as follows: 'I had been away from home for three

days at Bristol, and had only just returned upon the morning of last

Monday, the 3rd. My father was absent from home at the time of my

arrival, and I was informed by the maid that he had driven over to

Ross with John Cobb, the groom. Shortly after my return I heard the

wheels of his trap in the yard, and, looking out of my window, I saw

him get out and walk rapidly out of the yard, though I was not aware

in which direction he was going. I then took my gun and strolled out

in the direction of the Boscombe Pool, with the intention of visiting

the rabbit warren which is upon the other side. On my way I saw

William Crowder, the game-keeper, as he had stated in his evidence;

but he is mistaken in thinking that I was following my father. I had

no idea that he was in front of me. When about a hundred yards from

the pool I heard a cry of "Cooee!" which was a usual signal between

my father and myself. I then hurried forward, and found him standing

by the pool. He appeared to be much surprised at seeing me and asked

me rather roughly what I was doing there. A conversation ensued which

led to high words and almost to blows, for my father was a man of a

very violent temper. Seeing that his passion was becoming

ungovernable, I left him and returned towards Hatherley Farm. I had

not gone more than 150 yards, however, when I heard a hideous outcry

behind me, which caused me to run back again. I found my father

expiring upon the ground, with his head terribly injured. I dropped

my gun and held him in my arms, but he almost instantly expired. I

knelt beside him for some minutes, and then made my way to Mr.

Turner's lodge-keeper, his house being the nearest, to ask for

assistance. I saw no one near my father when I returned, and I have

no idea how he came by his injuries. He was not a popular man, being

somewhat cold and forbidding in his manners, but he had, as far as I

know, no active enemies. I know nothing further of the matter.'

"The Coroner: Did your father make any statement to you before he

died?

"Witness: He mumbled a few words, but I could only catch some

allusion to a rat.

"The Coroner: What did you understand by that?

"Witness: It conveyed no meaning to me. I thought that he was

delirious.

"The Coroner: What was the point upon which you and your father had

this final quarrel?

"Witness: I should prefer not to answer.

"The Coroner: I am afraid that I must press it.

"Witness: It is really impossible for me to tell you. I can assure

you that it has nothing to do with the sad tragedy which followed.

"The Coroner: That is for the court to decide. I need not point out

to you that your refusal to answer will prejudice your case

considerably in any future proceedings which may arise.

"Witness: I must still refuse.

"The Coroner: I understand that the cry of 'Cooee' was a common

signal between you and your father?

"Witness: It was.

"The Coroner: How was it, then, that he uttered it before he saw you,

and before he even knew that you had returned from Bristol?

"Witness (with considerable confusion): I do not know.

"A Juryman: Did you see nothing which aroused your suspicions when

you returned on hearing the cry and found your father fatally

injured?

"Witness: Nothing definite.

"The Coroner: What do you mean?

"Witness: I was so disturbed and excited as I rushed out into the

open, that I could think of nothing except of my father. Yet I have a

vague impression that as I ran forward something lay upon the ground

to the left of me. It seemed to me to be something grey in colour, a

coat of some sort, or a plaid perhaps. When I rose from my father I

looked round for it, but it was gone.

"'Do you mean that it disappeared before you went for help?'

"'Yes, it was gone.'

"'You cannot say what it was?'

"'No, I had a feeling something was there.'

"'How far from the body?'

"'A dozen yards or so.'

"'And how far from the edge of the wood?'

"'About the same.'

"'Then if it was removed it was while you were within a dozen yards