It was with a deep and breathless feeling that the spectators saw the counsel for the defence rise. He observed that his learned friend had galloped to a conclusion, for which there was not a single atom of foundation. He had talked of a murder, yet there was no proof of a murder. An unhappy accident in crossing the ferry; a fright on the part of the horse, and a kick on the head of the unfortunate owner as he stooped to pull the chain, would probably explain it all. Now he had known Mr. Woodburn all his life from his school-days, and he would pledge his whole character, conscience, and existence to the jury, that Mr. Woodburn was as incapable of a murder as he was of flying. No, he would not tread on a worm if he knew it. He would call evidence to show that it was as improbable as it was, in fact, impossible. His learned friend had talked of a feud betwixt Mr. Woodburn and Mr. Drury. Why, this feud was of so mild a kind that the only son of Mr. Woodburn was on the point at the moment of the catastrophe of being married to the only daughter of Mr. Drury. His learned friend had left it to be inferred that Mr. Woodburn was the only man in the neighbourhood who felt any antagonism to Mr. Drury. He would bring forward proofs that Mr. Drury had made many bitter enemies, he would not say justly, but simply by the introduction of new machines, and new fashions of farming, and by his active, energetic, and, perhaps, somewhat peremptory and exacting character; he had made those enemies amongst the lower and more ignorant class, who were far more likely to commit an outrage in their revenge than a gentleman of Mr. Woodburn’s well-known character—than a gentleman whose family was on the very point of forming the most intimate ties with the family of Mr. Drury. As to the question of crossing the ferry, he would show that it was impossible that Mr. Woodburn could have been present at the catastrophe, for he had witnesses to prove that Mr. Drury did not leave the hay-meadow beyond the river till nearly half an hour after Mr. Woodburn was seated quietly with his family at tea in his own garden.