le Judge was a very sleepy gentleman, and scarcely ever
woke up during the proceedings, save once towards one of the clock,
when he turned to his Lordship (whom I had at once set down as Mr.
Justice Blackcap, and was in truth that Dread Functionary), saying,
"Brother, is it dinner-time?" But his Lordship to the left, who had an
old white face like a sheep, and his wig all awry, was of a more
placable demeanour, and looked at me, poor luckless Outcast, with some
interest. I saw him turn his head and whisper to the gentleman they told
me was the High Sheriff, and who sat on the Bench alongside the Judges,
very fine, in a robe and gold chain, and with a great sheathed sword
behind him, resting on a silver goblet. Then the High Sheriff took to
reading over the Calendar, and shrugged his shoulders, whereupon I
indulged in some Hope. Then he leans over to Mr. Clerk of the Arraigns,
pointing me out, and seemingly asking him some question about me; but
that gentleman hands him up a couple of parchments, and my quick Ear
(for the Court was but small) caught the words, "There are two
Indictments against him, Sir John." Whereupon they looked at me no more,
save with a Stern and Sorrowful Gravity; and the Hope I had nourished
for a moment departed from me. Yet then, as afterwards, and as now, I
found (although then too babyish to reason about it), that, bad as we
say the World is, it is difficult to come upon Three Men together in it
but that one is Good and Merciful.

I feel that my disclaimer notwithstanding the Bark of my Narrative is
running down the stream of a Garrulous talkativeness; but I shall be
more brief anon. And what would you have? If there be any circumstances
which should entitle a man to give chapter and verse, they must surely
be those under which he was Tried for his Life.

The first day we only held up our hands, and heard the Indictment
against us read. Some of us who were Moneyed had retained Counsellors
from London to cross-question the witnesses; for to speak to the Jury
in aid of Prisoners, who could not often speak for themselves, the
Gentlemen of the Law were not then permitted. And this I have ever held
to be a crying Injustice. There was no one, however, not so much as a
Pettifogger, to lift tongue, or pen, or finger, to save little Jack
Dangerous from the Rope. My Protector, Captain Night, was at large;
Jowler, my first friend among the Blacks, was dead; and, as Misery is
apt to make men Selfish, the