Blount, writing to Dudley, acquainted him with the feelings of the neighbourhood about the affair, by which it is sufficiently evident that this happening was already regarded as a serious thing for Dudley. To this Dudley replied, directing that the strictest inquiry should be made; that an inquest should be held immediately, and “the discreetest and most substantial men should be chosen for the jury.” But surely, the question of an inquest and the choice of a jury were the affairs of others than himself, and an inquest would have been held in any case, whether he liked it or not; and so his directions to that end are mere unmeaning words. He further begged of Blount “as he loved him and desired his quietness, to use all devices and means for learning of the truth without respect to living persons”; and especially desired him not to dissemble, but to tell him, faithfully, “whether it happened by evil chance, or villainy.” He was evidently seriously alarmed for himself; but we look in vain for any expression of sorrow at his wife’s lamentable end. All he was concerned with was “the talk which the wicked world will use”: talk for which his own conduct for long past had given the fullest occasion. Blount had halted at Abingdon on his journey, and only reached Cumnor on September 11th. Already, as might have been supposed, the coroner had summoned his jury. They were, in Blount’s opinion, “as wise and able men, being but countrymen, as ever I saw.” They deliberated long and searchingly, and Blount wrote again, on the 13th, that they were very active; “whether equity is the cause, or malice [_i.e._ suspicion, let us note] against Forster, I know not.” He further said that they were very secret, but he could not hear that they had found any presumption of evil. He thought, however, they would be sorry (these wise and able men—for countrymen) if they failed. Obviously Blount had been trying to pump the jury as to their finding. Dudley himself, writing to Blount, said the foreman of the jury had communicated with him to the effect that although the inquiry was not yet concluded, for anything they could learn to the contrary, it was a very misfortune. So Dudley himself had been trafficking with the jury, a thing that would in modern times afford very strong presumption of guilt. If we put faith in Dudley’s own protestations, we must, however, find him innocent. Yet is it possible to have this faith?