Mr. Green said in continuation: “I came to Hull a short time since upon a little matter of business. In the train I met a young man who invited me to his house. When the train got to the station all the people got out, so did me and the young man. Soon after our arrival in the town we seed a crowd of persons in the street. The young man sed to me, ‘Here, I’ll get this gentleman’s clock,’ and he went up to this gentleman (pointing to the prosecutor) and pulled it out. He wanted to give it to me, but I would not take it, and the gentleman caught hold of me. This is how I got into this. But he (alluding to the prosecutor) did not get the right one, though I was with him. Gentlemen, have mercy on me do, for I am guilty of being with that young man who got away, but who ought to be here instead of me.” The policeman who took the prisoner into custody, and was on the spot at the time of the robbery, was put in the box, and swore distinctly that he saw the watch drop out of Mr. Green’s hand. “Oh, Mr. Policeman!” exclaimed the young gentleman, “how can you say such a thing?” Then, turning to the magistrates, he said, “It was a young man by me, gentlemen, and he ses to me, he ses, ‘Hold this ere,’ and he shoves the watch into my hand, an’ with that the constable he catches ’old of me and ses, ses he――――” “You must ask the witness what he said.” “Thank you, sir, I will,” returned Mr. Green. “Now then,” said he, turning to the witness, “now then, wasn’t there a young man a standin’ by me when you came up?” “No――certainly not; there was no young man by you.” “Ah! Mr. Policeman,” ejaculated the prisoner, in a deprecating tone, “how can you say so? Think again.” “There was not,” repeated the witness. “I don’t know what my father and mother will say to this, gentlemen,” exclaimed Mr. Green, blubbering. “I would not get my father and mother in any disgrace not, for anythink. I will take good care I never get into bad company again. When I get over this I will go home and be happy with my father and mother. Gentlemen, have mercy on me, gentlemen. If I come here again you may do as you like with me.” Mr. Green, with all his cunning and affected innocence, showed a more than usual confidence in human nature, if he imagined that he could impose upon the bench of magistrates with so hackneyed a plea. His line of defence was as well known between St. Paul’s Church-yard and Farringdon-street, as is the _Propria que Maribus_ at Eton. The magistrates, after consulting together, elected to send the case to the sessions. The prosecutor was bound over in his own recognisances, and Mr. Green, “like Niobe――all tears,” was taken back to his cell. Peace, who had given the name of Parker when arrested, was now placed in the dock. He glanced round the court to see if his female assailant was there to press the charge. To his dismay he beheld the elderly female sitting on a bench by the side of the witness-box.