the body of the deceased a little before eleven; so that either it must
have taken him more than an hour and a half to walk a quarter of a
mile--which is obviously absurd--or he must have been waiting for nearly
two hours in the grounds. Why did he not return at once to the house of
Mr. Topham? (where it appears that he was staying). For what--or for
whom--was he waiting? If he were in the park at the time of the murder,
how came it that he heard no cries, gave the unhappy gentleman no
assistance, and offers no suggestion or clue to the mystery beyond the
obstinate denial of his own guilt, though he confesses to having been in
the grounds during the whole time of the deadly struggle, and though he
was found alone with scratched hands and blood-stained clothes beside
the corpse of his avowed enemy? We leave these questions to the
consideration of our readers, as they will be for that of a
conscientious and impartial jury, not, we trust, blinded by the wealth
and position of the criminal to the hideous nature of the crime.

"The funeral is to take place to-morrow; George Manners is fully
committed to take his trial for wilful murder at the ensuing assizes."

The above condemning extract only too well represented the state of
public feeling. All Middlesex--nay, all England--was roused to
indignation, and poor Edmund's youth and infirmities made the crime
appear the more cowardly and detestable.




CHAPTER IV.

DRIFTING TO THE END.