“Oh! there’s poor Baldy that you murdered!”

Nosey felt that this uncalled-for statement would damage his chance of escape, so, turning to the bench, he said: 

“Don’t mind what the woman says, your lordship; she is not in her right senses, and always was weak-minded.”

The constable being sworn, related how, on information received, he had gone to the Stoney Rises, and had uncovered a skeleton which was lying on a broad flat stone.  The bones of the legs from the knees downward were covered with stones.  The boots were attached to the feet, and were pointing in such a direction as to show that the body must have rested on the right side.  Large stones, but such as one man could lift, had been placed over the feet and the legs.  The other bones were together, but had been disturbed.  With them he found the brim of an oiled sou’-westr’ hat, a clay tobacco pipe, a rusty clasp-knife with a hole bored through the handle, fragments of a blue shirt; also pieces of a striped silk neckerchief, marked D. S. over 3; the marks had been sewn in with a needle.  There was a hole in the back of the skull, and the left jaw was broken.

Just at this time a funeral procession, with a few attendants, passed the court-house on its way to the cemetery.  Julia’s father was going to his grave.  He had come over the sea lately to spend the rest of his days in peace and comfort in the home of his daughter, and he found her in gaol under the charge of murder.  There was nothing more to live for, so he went out and died.

The two prisoners were committed, but they remained in gaol for more than seven months longer, on account of the difficulty of securing the attendance of witnesses from New South Wales.

But when the evidence was given it was overwhelming.  Every man who had known Baldy seemed to have been kept alive on purpose to give evidence against the murderer.  Every scrap of clothing which the wild cats had left was identified, together with the knife, the pipe, the hat brim, and the boots; and the prisoner’s own confession was repeated.  Julia also took the side of the prosecution.  When asked if she had any questions to put, she said, “My husband killed the man, and forced me to help him to put the body on his horse.”

The jury retired to consider their verdict, and spent two hours over it.  In the meantime the two prisoners sat in the dock as far apart as possible.  They had never spoken to each other during the trial, and Nosey now said in a low voice: 

“You had no call, Julia, to turn on me the way you did.  What good could it do you?  Sure you might at least have said nothing against me.”

The pent-up bitterness of seventeen years burst forth.  The constable standing near tried to stop the torrent, but he might as well have tried to turn back a south-east gale with a feather.