"Do you mean to say that during his life he has never gained the ill-will or the enmity of anyone besides me?" "Not that I know of." "You insist on this?" "Yes. That is, no enmity of importance." "What do you mean by importance?" "I mean any enmity that would lead anyone to murder him." "I want to ask you further questions about this. One of the witnesses who gave evidence concerning the quarrel between your son and myself on the night prior to his death is called Scott, is he not?" "Yes." "John Scott?" "Yes." "John had a son called Nick; is that not so?" "Yes." "Some three years ago he had a quarrel with your son?" "Yes." "It ended in Nick Scott being sent to prison. Is that true?" "It is true that Nick Scott was sent to prison, but it had nothing whatever to do with his quarrel with my son. That was about a very trivial affair." "But did not Nick Scott say that he'd pay your son out if he had to swing for it?" "There was some such rumour, I believe. I paid no attention to it." "I am taking this line, my lord," continued Paul, "because of the witness's evidence. He says that his son had no enemy in Brunford. I am going to prove to you that he had." The judge nodded, while Paul again turned to the witness. "You still adhere to the fact, then, do you, that your son had no enemy beside myself?" "I did not think of Scott, because he was not in the country; besides, it was of no importance. Men often utter threats like that." "It pains me to bring up another case," said Paul. "But please remember I am here accused of murder. Do you know a woman named Mary Bradshaw? She lives in Clough Street." "I have heard of such a woman; yes." "Your son was once very friendly with her. Had that woman no reason to hate him?" "That was years ago." Paul asked many questions concerning this woman which I will not set down here, because they were necessarily of a sordid nature, but which went to prove that although in neither case could these people have had anything to do with the murder, Ned Wilson was not universally beloved, as his father had stated, but bitterly hated. "You have admitted to me," went on Paul at length, "that he was believed to have wronged two people, and that both of them had reason to bear him enmity. Might there not have been others of whom you never heard?" "Of course my son was thirty years of age, and he lived his own life. At the same time it is universally admitted that he was respected in the town and beloved by practically everyone." "With the exception of these people, who, as you have admitted, uttered dark threats against him?" At this the witness was silent.