go down. As he did so, Joseph Mason,
who sat near to him, turned upon him a look black as thunder. Mr.
Mason gave him no credit for his timidity, but believed that he had
been bought over by the other side. Dockwrath, however, knew better.
"They did not quite beat him about his own signature," said he; "but
I knew all along that we must depend chiefly upon Bolster."

Then Bridget Bolster was put into the box, and she was examined by
Mr. Steelyard. She had heard Kenneby instructed to look up, and she
therefore fixed her eyes upon the canopy over the judge's seat. There
she fixed them, and there she kept them till her examination was
over, merely turning them for a moment on to Mr. Chaffanbrass, when
that gentleman became particularly severe in his treatment of her.
What she said in answer to Mr. Steelyard, was very simple. She had
never witnessed but one signature in her life, and that she had done
in Sir Joseph's room. The nature of the document had been explained
to her. "But," as she said, "she was young and giddy then, and what
went in at one year went out at another." She didn't remember Mr.
Usbech signing, but he might have done so. She thought he did not. As
to the two signatures purporting to be hers, she could not say which
was hers and which was not. But this she would swear positively,
that they were not both hers. To this she adhered firmly, and Mr.
Steelyard handed her over to Mr. Chaffanbrass.

Then Mr. Chaffanbrass rose from his seat, and every one knew that his
work was cut out for him. Mr. Furnival had triumphed. It may be said
that he had demolished his witness; but his triumph had been very
easy. It was now necessary to demolish Bridget Bolster, and the
opinion was general that if anybody could do it Mr. Chaffanbrass
was the man. But there was a doggedness about Bridget Bolster which
induced many to doubt whether even Chaffanbrass would be successful.
Mr. Aram trusted greatly; but the bar would have preferred to stake
their money on Bridget.

Chaffanbrass as he rose pushed back his small ugly wig from his
forehead, thrusting it rather on one side as he did so, and then,
with his chin thrown forward, and a wicked, ill-meaning smile upon
his mouth, he looked at Bridget for some moments before he spoke to
her. She glanced at him, and instantly fixed her eyes back upon the
canopy. She then folded her hands one on the other upon the rail
before her, compressed her lips, and waited patiently.

"I think