ack wig you 'ye on; but you don't look a
day oulder than when I seen you last."

This speech excited the most intense astonishment in the court, and many
now perceived, for the first time, that Meekins did not wear his own
hair.

"Are you positive, then, that this man is Black Sam?"

"I am."

"Are you prepared to swear to it on your solemn oath, taking all the
consequences false evidence will bring down upon you?"

"I am."

"You are quite certain that it's no accidental resemblance, but that
this is the very identical man you knew long ago?"

"I'm certain sure. I'd know him among a thousand; and, be the same
token, he has a mark of a cut on the crown of his head, three inches
long. See, now, if I 'm not right."

Meekins was now ordered to mount the witness-table, and remove his wig.
He was about to say something, but Wallace stopped him and whispered a
few words in his ear.

"I would beg to observe," said the lawyer, "that if an old cicatrix is
to be the essential token of recognition, few men who have lived the
adventurous life of Meekins will escape calumny."

"'T is a mark like the letter V," said Jimmy; "for it was ould Peter
himself gave it him, one night, with a brass candlestick. There it is!"
cried he, triumphantly; "did n't I tell true?"

The crowded galleries creaked under the pressure of the eager
spectators, who now bent forward and gazed on this strong proof of
identification.

"Is there any other mark by which you could remember him?"

"Sure, I know every fayture in his face,--what more d'ye want?"

"Now, when did you see him last,--I mean before this day?"

"The last time I seen him was the mornin' he was taken up."

"How do you mean' taken up'?"

"Taken up by the polis."

"Taken by the police,----for what?"

"About the murder, to be sure."

A thrill of horror pervaded the court as these words were spoken, and
Meekins, whose impassive face had never changed before, became now pale
as death.

"Tell the jury what you saw on the morning you speak of."

"I was at home, work in', when the polis passed by. They asked me where
Black Sam lived; 'Up the road,' says I."

"How far is your house from his?"

"About fifty perches, your honor, in the same boreen, but higher up."

"So that, in going from Mr. Godfrey's to his own home, Sam must have
passed your door?"

"Yes, sir."

"This he did every day,--two or three times,--did n't he?"

"He did, sir."

"Did you usually speak to