Ings is a fierce ruffian, a short stout man, apparently between 30 and 40, but of most determined aspect. His hands were covered with blood; and as he stood at the bar, manacled to one of his wretched confederates, his large fiery eyes glared round upon the spectators with an expression truly horrible. The rest had nothing extraordinary in their appearance. They were for the most part men of short stature, mean exterior, and unmarked physiognomy. The office was crowded with soldiers and officers, bringing in arms and ammunition of various kinds, which had been taken on the premises; muskets, carabines, broad-swords, pistols, blunderbusses, belts, and cartouch-boxes, ball cartridges, gunpowder, (found loose in the pockets of the prisoners), haversacks, and a large bundle of singularly-constructed stilettoes. These latter were about 18 inches long, and triangular in form: two of the sides being concave, and the other flat; the lower extremity having been flattened, and then wrung round spirally, so as to make a firm grip, and ending in a screw, as if to fit into the top of a staff. Several staves indeed were produced, fitted at one end with a screwed socket; and no doubt they were intended to receive this formidable weapon. The depositions of a number of officers, most of them wounded, and several of the soldiers, having been taken, their evidence substantiating the foregoing narrative, the prisoners were asked whether they wished to say any thing? Cooper, and Davidson the black, were the only ones who replied, and they merely appealed to the officers and soldiers to say, whether they had not instantly surrendered themselves. Ellis, the patrol, who received the murdered body of his comrade Smithers in his arms, replied, that Davidson had made the most resistance. At the moment when the lights were extinguished, he had rushed out of the place, armed with a carbine, and wearing white cross-belts. Ellis pursued him a considerable distance along John-street; and, having caught him, they fell together, and in the deadly struggle which ensued, Davidson discharged his carbine, but without effect, and Ellis succeeded in securing him. Captain Fitzclarence had seized and secured one or two of the prisoners with his own hands, and he was not only much bruised, but his uniform was almost torn to pieces. We will here shortly digress, for the purpose of stating the immediate circumstances which led to the frustration of the sanguinary plot, and the arrest of its fiend-like authors.