flinched, and shouted, "Barney!" called out
to him in response, "Your knife! your
knife!" Solomon thereupon drew his knife
out of his pocket, and dug it half open into
the face of Bollkins, who took flight, was
pursued, and again wounded in the arm. Barney
and Solomon retreated to their house, and the
police appeared upon the scene.

"You can swear to the prisoner Barney?"
—"I can. I know him."

"How was he dressed?"—"I think his
coat was off, and he had on white trousers."

"White trousers? Are you sure of that?"
—"Yes, he had on white trousers."
—"You have no doubt of that?"—"No, I
am sure of it."

Another witness, who had looked on from
the lane, corroborated this, but could not
swear that it was the prisoner Barney who
called out "Your knife! your knife!"
Thought it was a shorter and a stouter man.
Distinctly remembered how that man was
dressed. He had a fustian coat on, and wore
dark moleskin trousers. Could swear that
he wore dark trousers, which he believed
were moleskin.

A woman who had looked down on the
hubbub from her window corroborated the
account previously given, but thought the
man who shouted out to Solomon to use his
knife was a much taller man than Barney.
He was not wearing white trousers. They
were dark, and he had on a fustian coat. The
man ran into the same house with Solomon,
when the police came.

Policeman X went to the door of the house
number twenty-seven, Paradise Lane, and
found it locked. Said who he was, and was
refused admission. Heard something said
inside about poker and tongs. Broke open
the door, and was attacked by the two
prisoners with tongs and poker. With the
help of another constable took them both
into custody. Found the knife half closed
and covered with blood. Produced it. Being
produced it was seen to be a clumsy
pocket knife, such as would be used by rustic
Lubins for the cutting of their bread and
cheese. There was blood on Solomon's clothes,
about his pocket. Barney appeared to have
been going to bed, had taken off his coat and
trousers, and was in his drawers. He said
that he had only used violence in defence of
his brother, that he had been in-doors all the
evening, and that the man who came in with
Solomon, whose name he stated, had gone
through the house and out at the back
window. There was a back window opening from
the staircase upon mud-heaps behind, and
escape by that way, the policeman found,
was easy.

That was the case. Against Solomon
convincing, against Barney very doubtful.
Witnesses to character declared Barney to be a
steady workman, who had been employed for
years in one great factory. He looked
respectable, and with a deferential firmness,
as I fancied, was awaiting his acquittal.
Counsel argued. The presiding judge was
summing up; there were three or four upon
the bench—reverend looking gentlemen in
robes and wigs—with the City Recorder,
younger and brisker, in his chain of office.
The case was nearly over, when one of the
venerable judges signified his wish to ask a
question of one of the policemen. He was
recalled.

"The prisoner Barney, you said, appeared
to be going to bed, and had taken off his
coat and trousers when you went into
his room. Did you see the clothes that he
had taken off?"—"Yes, my lord, they were
lying on the floor."

"Did you observe what kind of clothes
they were?"—"It was a fustian coat, and they
were dark moleskin trousers."

Barney instantly and visibly broke down,
exclaiming with much agitation that they
were not his clothes. Two or three more
questions proved that there was no one else
to whom they could have belonged, and the
venerable judge leaned back with the aspect
of a man who had done a happy thing and
knew it. He had secured a just verdict,
which, unluckily for Barney, would ensure to
him a term of prison discipline, or possibly a
berth on board a convict ship. Barney and
Solomon were found guilty together.

The evidence in that case curiously
illustrated the great discrepancy of statement
which may subsist among people—especially
ignorant people—who narrate from memory
the same occurrence. The accuser having
observed everything under the influence of
emotion, had evidently recognised Barney
by the face, and as he himself said by the
voice, but connected his recollection with a
false though positive idea of his dress.
Other witnesses showed by the testimony
they gave what vague notions of size are to
be had from people in the witness box, and
as for their ideas of distance they were even
extravagantly vague. Every witness was
asked how far the person was from the
contending parties who called out to Solomon
to use the knife. The answers assigned the
most various distances; one said sixty, and
another said three hundred yards.

Those prisoners, ushered by the turnkey,
withdrew to the back of the dock and retired
by an underground way to Newgate. Out of
the chasm stepped a woman who stood
forward in their place, a wild untidy looking
woman. A wretched accuser, another
miserable woman, stepped into the witness
box and received into her hands from the.
business-like usher of the court a book—of
which she cannot read a syllable—of the
contents of which she knows not much more
than a Caffre—upon which she is to be sworn.
In a loud, rapid, business-like tone the usher
got her swearing over: "The-evidence-that-
you-shall-give-before-the-court-and-jury-
sworn-between-our-Sovereign-Lady-the-