on former occasions
distinguished highly as a thieves' advocate, but now, unfortunately, out
of work. "Loosen his cravat, some one there; the gentleman is in fits."

"Oh, Aunt--Aunt Quarles, don't throttle me; I'll tell all--all; let go,
let go!" and the wretched man slowly recovered, as Ben Burke said,

"Ay, my lord, ask him yourself, the little wretch can tell you all about
it."

"I submit, my lurd," interposed the briefless one, "that this
respectable gentleman is taken ill, and that his presence may now be
dispensed with, as a witness in the cause."

"No, sir, no;" deliberately answered Jennings; "I must stay: the time I
find is come; I have not slept for weeks; I am exhausted utterly; I have
lost my gold; I am haunted by her ghost; I can go no where but that face
follows me--I can do nothing but her fingers clutch my throat. It is
time to end this misery. In hope to lay her spirit, I would have offered
up a victim: but--but she will not have him. Mine was the hand that--"

"Pardon me," upstarted Mr. Sharp, "this poor gentleman is a mono-maniac;
pray, my lurd, let him be removed while the trial is proceeding."

"You horse-hair hypocrite, you!" roared Ben, "would you hang the
innocent, and save the guilty?"

Would he? would Mr. Philip Sharp? Ay, that he would; and glad of such a
famous opportunity. What! would not Newgate rejoice, and Horsemonger be
glad? Would not his bag be filled with briefs from the community of
burglars, and his purse be rich in gold subscribed by the brotherhood of
thieves? Great at once would be his name among the purlieus of iniquity:
and every rogue in London would retain but Philip Sharp. Would he? ask
him again.

But Jennings quietly proceeded like a speaking statue.

"I am not mad, most noble--" [the Bible-read villain was from habit
quoting Paul]--"my lord, I mean. My hand did the deed: I throttled her"
(here he gave a scared look over his shoulder): "yes--I did it once and
again: I took the crock of gold. You may hang me now, Aunt Quarles."

"My lurd, my lurd, this is a most irregular proceeding," urged Mr.
Sharp; "on the part of the prisoner--I, I crave pardon--on behalf of
this most respectable and deluded gentleman, Mr. Simon Jennings, I
contend that no one may criminate himself in this way, without the
shadow of evidence to support such suicidal testimony. Really, my
lurd--"

"Oh, sir, but my father may go free?" earnestly asked Grace. But Ben
Burke's voice--I had almo