miliar. I have no remembrance of the process.”

Mr. Attorney-General sat down, and the father and daughter sat

down together.

A singular circumstance then arose in the case. The object in

hand being to show that the prisoner went down, with some

fellow-plotter untracked, in the Dover mail on that Friday night in

November five years ago, and got out of the mail in the night, as a

blind, at a place where he did not remain, but from which he

travelled back some dozen miles or more, to a garrison and

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dockyard, and there collected information; a witness was called to

identify him as having been at the precise time required, in the

coffee-room of an hotel, in that garrison-and-dockyard town,

waiting for another person. The prisoner’s counsel was crossexamining

this witness with no result, except that he had never

seen the prisoner on any other occasion, when the wigged

gentleman who had all this time been looking at the ceiling of the

court, wrote a word or two on a little piece of paper, screwed it up,

and tossed it to him. Opening this piece of paper in the next pause,

the counsel looked with great attention and curiosity at the

prisoner.

“You say again you are quite sure that it was the prisoner?”

The witness was quite sure.