ertain certain facts on a subject
which, but for his learned brother's initiative, he would have shrunk
from exhibiting in open court." Meekins could, of course, but give such
details as he had learned from Noonan, but they all described a life
of suffering and meanness,--their contrivances and their straits;
their frequent change of place, as debt accumulated over them; their
borrowings and their bills; and, lastly, the boastful pretexts they
constantly brought forward on the rank of their uncle, Count Dalton, as
a guarantee of their solvency and respectability. So unexpected was the
transition to the mention of this name, that the whole assembly suddenly
turned their eyes to where the old General sat, mute and stern; but the
look he returned might well have abashed them, so haughty and daring was
its insolence.

Apparently to show the knowledge possessed by the witness on matters of
private detail,--but, in reality, to afford an occasion for dilating on
a painful subject,--the whole history of the family was raked up, and
all the sad story of Nelly's toil and Kate's menial duties paraded
in open court, wound up, at last, with what was called young Frank's
enlistment "as a common soldier of the Austrian army."

The greater interests of the trial were all forgotten in these materials
for gossip, and the curiosity of the listeners was excited to its
highest pitch when he came to tell of that mingled misery and ambition,
that pride of name, and shameless disregard of duty, which he described
as characterizing them; nor was the craving appetite for scandal half
appeased when the court interrupted the examination, and declared that
it was irrelevant and purposeless.

Meekins at last descended from the table, and Michel Lenahan was called
up. The important fact he had so resolutely sworn to some weeks before
he had already shown a disinclination to confirm, and all that he could
now be brought to admit was, that he had believed Meekins was his old
acquaintance, Black Sam; but the years that had elapsed since he saw him
before, change of dress, and the effect of time on each of them, might
well shake a better memory than his own.

"Jimmy Morris might know him again, my Lord," said he, "for he never
forgot anybody,----but _he_ is n't to the fore."

"I have the happiness to say that he is," said Hipeley. "He has arrived
from Cove, here, this morning. Call James Morris, crier;" and soon
after, a very diminutive old man, wit