“There’s been quite a lot o’ talk—” “Suspicion, you mean.” “We—ell, yes.” “People are inclined to connect Mr. Sedgwick with the death of the woman?” “What else can you expect?” returned the old man deprecatingly. “Iry Dennett’s been tellin’ his story. He’s certain the woman he seen talkin’ to Mr. Sedgwick is the dead woman. Willin’ to swear to it anywheres.” “What about Gansett Jim? Has he contributed anything to the discussion?” “No. Jim’s as close-tongued as Iry is clatter-mouthed.” “And probably with reason,” muttered Kent. “Well, I’ll look for you inside.” He returned to join Sedgwick. Together they entered the building, while behind them a rising hum testified to the interest felt in them by the villagers. Within, a tall wizened man, with dead fishy eyes, stalked nervously to and fro on a platform, beside which a hastily constructed coffin with a hasped cover stood on three sawhorses. On a chair near by slouched the sheriff, his face red and streaming. A few perspiring men and women were scattered on the benches. Outside a clock struck eleven. There was a quick inflow of the populace, and the man on the platform lifted up a chittering voice. “Feller citizens,” he said, “as medical officer I declare these proceedings opened. Meaning no disrespect to the deceased, we want to get through as spry as possible. First we will hear witnesses. Anybody who thinks he can throw any light on this business can have a hearing. Then those as wants may view the remains. The burial will take place right afterwards, in the town buryin’-ground, our feller citizen and sheriff, Mr. Len Schlager, having volunteered the expenses.” “That man,” said Sedgwick in Kent’s ear, “is a great deal more nervous this minute than I am.” “Perhaps he has more cause to be,” whispered the scientist. “Here comes the first witness.” A sheep-herder had risen in his place, and without the formality of an oath told of sighting the body at the edge of the surf at seven o’clock in the morning. Others, following, testified to the position on the beach, the lashing of the body to the grating, the wounds, and the manacles. Doctor Breed announced briefly that the deceased had come to her death by drowning, and that the skull had been crushed in, presumably, when the waves hammered the body upon the reefs. “Then the corpse must have come from a good ways out,” said Sailor Smith; “for the reefs wouldn’t catch it at that tide.” “Nobody knows how the dead come to Lonesome Cove,” said the sheriff in his deep voice. There was a murmur of assent. The people felt a certain pride in the ill-omened locality.