CHAPTER VII.
THE REVELATION AT THE INQUEST.
To say that Deerham was rudely disturbed from its equanimity; that petty animosities, whether concerning Mr.Roy and the Dawsons or other contending spirits, were lost sight of, hushed to rest in the absorbing calamity which had overtaken Rachel; to say that occupations were partially suspended, that there ensued a glorious interim of idleness, for the female portion of it--of conferences in gutters and collectings in houses; to say that Rachel was sincerely mourned, old Frost sympathised with, and the supposed assailant vigorously sought after, would be sufficient to indicate that public curiosity was excited to a high pitch; but all this was as nothing compared to the excitement that was to ensue upon the evidence given at the coroner's inquest.
In the absence of any certain data to go upon, Deerham had been content to take uncertain data, and to come to its own conclusions.

Deerham assumed that Rachel, from some reasons which they could not fathom, had taken the lonely road home that night, had met with somebody or other with whom had ensued a quarrel and scuffle, and that, accidentally or by intent, she had been pushed into the pond, the coward decamping.
"Villainy enough! even if 'twas but an accident!" cried wrathful Deerham.
Villainy enough, beyond all doubt, had this been the extent.

But, Deerham had to learn that the villainy had had a beginning previous to that.
The inquest had been summoned in due course.

It sat two days after the accident.

No evidence, tending to further elucidate the matter, was given, than had been elicited that first night before Mr.Verner; except the medical evidence.