Others, less lenient in their views, had obtained quite different details. They could relate numerous previous attempts of the prisoner on the life of her benefactress. They knew how she had sought to introduce poison into her food, from which she was only saved by a miraculous chance, which caused her to be summoned from the table just as she was about to taste the fatal dish. Also how she had on one occasion led her victim along the cliff with the well-formed purpose of pushing her over the edge; only the curate happened to come along and meet them, and accompanied them till the opportunity was gone. The Owenite section, on the other hand, had their account, equally authentic, and, if possible, more minute and graphic than the other. They would tell you more about their villain, Lewis, than he himself could possibly have remembered. They took you back to his childhood. They started you with the well-known story of his beating his little sister, the sister in the North whom he had refused to go and see. They explained the causes which led to his expulsion from school after school. They tracked him to Australia, and unearthed dark secrets in his life out there which would have made the bushranger Kelly reject him from his historic gang. Finally, they brought him back to England a ruined desperado, intent on getting at his relative's wealth by fair means or foul. The robbery of her jewels was only part of his scheme. By killing her he obtained the whole of her wealth at once. Then a victim became necessary--a stalking-horse to mislead the minions of justice, and whose punishment would ensure his own safety. He was thus a double murderer. So the tongues wagged. Meanwhile the object of these rumours had made his way round in a towering passion to the seat from which his solicitor was trying to get away. 'What does this mean?' he cried, as soon as he got near enough to speak without being heard by others. 'Are you playing me false? Where is Mr. Prescott?' 'He was called away into the other court,' said Mr. James Pollard, the barrister's brother, who was a partner with his father in the Porthstone firm. 'He ought not to have gone. Your brother managed the case wretchedly. I wasn't allowed to say the most important thing of all.' 'My brother did the best he could. No one could dream that Prescott would desert us like this. I shall never give him another brief, I promise you.' By this time they had got outside the door of the court-house. They turned towards a hotel close by, where a general luncheon was put on the table for the convenience of people having business in the assize-courts. The civil court had risen a few minutes before the other, and the place was crowded with solicitors, witnesses, jurymen, and the general public.