It needed very little insight or observation on the part of an intelligent spectator to see how things were going. The twelve good men and true, required under the provisions of the old statute to form a jury, were all of them either Scarhaven tradesmen or Scarhaven householders or labourers on the estate. Their countenances, as they took their seats under the foremanship of a man whom Copplestone already knew as Chatfield's under-steward, showed plainly that they regarded the whole thing as a necessary formality and that they were already prepared with a verdict. This impression was strengthened by the coroner's opening remarks. In his opinion, the whole affair--to which he did not even refer as unfortunate--was easily and quickly explained and understood. The deceased had come to the village to look round--on a Sunday be it observed--had somehow obtained access to the Keep, where, the ruins being strictly private and not open to the public on any consideration on Sunday, he had no right to be; had indulged his curiosity by climbing to the top of the ancient tower and had paid for it by falling down from that terrible height and breaking his neck. All that was necessary was for them to hear evidence bearing out these facts--after which they would return a verdict in accordance with what they had heard. Very fortunately the facts were plain, and it would not be necessary to call many witnesses. Sir Cresswell Oliver turned to Copplestone who sat at one side of him, while Petherton sat on the other. "I don't know if you notice that Greyle isn't here?" he whispered grimly. "In my opinion, he doesn't intend to show! We'll see!" Certainly the Squire was not in the place. And there were soon signs that those who conducted the proceedings evidently did not consider his presence necessary. The witnesses were few; their examinations was perfunctory; they were out of the extemporised witness-box as soon as they were in it. Sir Cresswell Oliver--to give formal identification. Mrs. Wooler--to prove that the deceased man came to her house. One of the foremen of the estate--to prove the great care with which the Squire had searched for traces of the missing man. One of the estate labourers--to prove the actual finding of the body. The doctor--to prove, beyond all doubt, that the deceased had broken his neck. The coroner, an elderly man, obviously well satisfied with the trend of things, took off his spectacles and turned to the jury. "You have heard everything there is to be heard, gentlemen," said he. "As I remarked at the opening of this inquest, the case is one of great simplicity. You will have no difficulty in deciding that the deceased came to his death by accident--as to the exact wording of your verdict, you had better put it in this way:--that the deceased Bassett Oliver died as the result--" Petherton, who, noticing the coroner's deafness, had contrived to seat himself as close to his chair of office as possible, quietly rose.