At the re-appearance of Willes, the next witness, Atterbury showed more than ordinary eagerness to grapple with him. Willes quietly asserted that he had properly decyphered the arrested letters, given to him for that purpose. ‘Pray, sir,’ said the bishop (who had failed to obtain the production of the key), ‘will you explain to me your process of decyphering?’ ‘No, my lord,’ was the reply, ‘I will not. It would tend to the discovery of my art, and to instruct ill-designing men to contrive more difficult cyphers.’ The usual majority of the House was of the same opinion, and their lordships passed on to other matter――the production of copies of letters written by Kelly (the Nonjuror and sometime acting secretary to Atterbury), according to, it was said, the bishop’s dictation or instructions. Sir Constantine Phipps here saw his chance. He denounced altogether this course, at least till it could be proved that the prelate had any part whatever in them. The counsel for the Crown replied that they offered the letters written by Kelly, not in proof of special particular action, but of a conspiracy in general. They promised to make special and particular application of them to the detriment of the bishop, by evidence, at a future stage of the proceedings. Sir Constantine Phipps demonstrated that such a course would be one of rank injustice, unless he, on the part of the ‘unfortunate prisoner at the bar,’ was allowed to rebut the application by both evidence and argument. On the return to the Tower in the evening, the Jacobite spirit of the mob was adopted by some of the guard. Four of them, after Atterbury entered his room, went and drank the ‘Pretender’s health at the canteen, and smarted for it before the week was out.’ [Sidenote: _THE DEFENCE._] On the 9th of May, Sir Constantine repeated his protest, whereupon he was rather summarily bidden to go on with what he had to advance in his ‘unhappy client’s’ behalf.