"No--but I shouldn't have been surprised if they had."

"That will do, Mr Job Walker."

Barnworth asked another question before Mr Walker stepped down.

"Did you notice what took place between the prisoner and the deceased?"

"Yes. The deceased, when he came in, told the prisoner he was no good, and sent him to his place and took charge of the shop. The prisoner was very angry, and said he would like to pay Smith out."

The general opinion was that Blyth had acquitted himself well, and he was cheered by the public as he stood down.

Timothy Simple was next called, and Simson, rather pale and scared- looking, answered to the name.

The examination of this witness was left to Ranger, who got him to narrate the circ.u.mstances of his finding the body of the "deceased" on the morning of the 5th. The unfortunate youth seemed to forget that the trial was a mock one, and coloured up and stammered and corrected himself, as if the life of a fellow-being actually depended on his evidence.

Felgate, after a hurried communication from his junior, only asked a very few questions in cross-examination.

"Did you observe if the body was lying with its head to the door or its feet?"

"I really couldn't say. It was so dark, and I was so horrified."

"Was the key of the cellar always on the outside of the door?"

"Yes, generally; it must have been, because I locked it behind me when I ran out."

"Who would be the last person at night to go to the cellar? Would the foreman go round and lock up?"

"I don't know; I suppose so."

"You wouldn't swear that the foreman did not usually keep the key at night in his own room?"

"No--that is, yes. Do you mean I wouldn't swear he did, or didn't?"

"You would not swear he did not keep it?"

"I don't know."

"But you wouldn't swear he didn't?"

"I couldn't, because if I don't know--"

"If you don't know you couldn't swear he didn't do it. Come, tell the jury, Yes, or No, Mr Simple; it is an important question."

Simson looked up and down. Half a dozen friends were winking at him suggestively from different parts of the court, and he couldn't make out their meaning. At length he perceived Munger nodding his head, and as Munger had lent him a crib to Ovid the day before, he decided to refer to him.

"Yes," he said.

"I thought so," said Felgate. "Why could you not say that before, Mr Simple?"

And Simson descended from his perch amid laughter and jeers, not quite sure whether he had not committed a crime beside which the offence of the prisoner at the bar was a trifle.

"Call William Tomkins," said Barnworth.

William Tomkins was called, and Dig, with his tawny mane more than usually dishevelled, and an excited look on his face, entered the box.

He glared round him defiantly, and then dug his hands into his pockets and waited for his questions.

"Your name is William Tomkins?" began Barnworth.

"Sir William Tomkins, Baronet," said the witness, amidst laughter.

"To be sure, I beg your pardon, Sir William. And what are you, pray?"

"A baronet." (Loud laughter.)

"A baronet in reduced circ.u.mstances, I fear. You work in the boiler department of this factory?"

"All right, go on."

Here the judge interposed.

"The witness must remember that he is bound to answer questions properly. Unless he does so I shall order him to be removed."

This somewhat damped the defiant tone of Digby, and he answered the further questions of counsel rather more amiably. These had reference to the discovery of the body on the morning of the 5th, with the details of which the reader is already acquainted. The public began to get a little tired of this constant repet.i.tion of the same story, and were about to vote the proceedings generally slow, when a double event served to rouse their flagging attention.

Mr Railsford entered the court as a spectator, and was accommodated with a seat on the bench, beside the judge. At the same moment, Barnworth, having ended his questions, Arthur Herapath, junior counsel for the defence, rose to his feet, and said,--

"Now, Sir William Tomkins, Baronet, have the goodness to look at me and answer a few questions. I would advise you to be careful."

The baronet replied by putting his tongue in his cheek, and giving a pantomimic wave of his fist in the direction of the learned counsel.

"Now, Sir William Tomkins, Baronet, how old are you, my lad?"

"Find out," said Sir William hotly.

"That's what I mean to do. Answer me, sir, or I'll get the beak to run you in for contempt of court."

"Come and do it," said the witness, red in the face.

Here the judge again interposed.

"The learned junior must confine himself to the case before us, or I shall have to ask Mr Felgate to conduct the cross-examination."

"All serene, my lord," rejoined the learned junior, who was thoroughly enjoying himself. "Of course, if your lordship think the question's not important I won't press it against your lordship's desire. I'm obliged to your lordship for your lordship's advice, and I'll pull your nose, Dimsdale"--this was in a parenthesis--"if you don't shut up. Now, Sir William Tomkins, Baronet, you say you saw the prisoner pulled out of the sack?"

"I never said anything of the sort."

"My lord, I must ask your lordship to commit this man for perjury. He's telling crackers."

"I think he said he saw the murdered man pulled out of the sack," said the judge.