'Yes, she and her husband had come out with Mr. Lance. When in the _Red Jacket_ had made it up to be mates. Mr. Trevanion, though he was a grand gentleman at home, worked as hard in the claim as any man on the field; would never believe that he had aught to do with a stolen horse. It was that Ned Lawless there, and his bold gipsy of a sister. I say it to their faces, as I have often warned him against, that's got him into this trouble.' 'Could he have been at Balooka on Thursday, or Wednesday, 18th, as was sworn by one witness?' 'Not unless he was a spirit. He came round to the claim, and said "good-bye" to me and the child on _Thursday evening_; would swear that to her dying day.' 'As to his being at Balooka, or any place a hundred miles off, it was a thing impossible. There were people in the court as wanted to swear away his life, any one could see. But there's Cousin Jacks enough at Growlers' to smash the gaol and the court-house too, if these things are to be carried on, and it would be seen yet (the witness said in her excitement) what would come of it.' 'Sergeant Dayrell would ask the witness no questions. The Bench would perceive the animus which coloured all the evidence.' Mrs. Delf was next called. 'Her name was Mary Anne Delf; she had no call to be ashamed of it, and was the wife of the landlord of the "Diggers' Rest." Know that gentleman?' pointing to Lance. 'Well, he always stayed at her house. Dined there with Mr. Stirling, Mr. Ross (of Bundalong Station), and Mr. Polwarth, on Thursday, the 19th of September last. Remembered the day particular, because there had been a wash-up at "Number Six" the day before, and they had sold the gold to the bank, and had it weighed and settled up for. 'Was she a friend of Mr. Trevanion's? Yes; and she was proud to say so. It was a pity all his friends weren't as straight, though she said it herself. But he was as innocent of all this duffing racket as Tottie Polwarth there.' Here poor Tottie, hearing her name, turned her eyes away from the dock, where they had been resting sadly for a long time, and said audibly-- 'Isn't Lance coming, mammy?' This pathetic appeal, joined to a solitary glance from the prisoner, proved too much for Mrs. Polwarth's self-possession, and, seizing Tottie by the hand, she hurried from the court. Upon which Mrs. Delf, though unused to the melting mood, had recourse to her handkerchief, and sobbed aloud, as did various like-minded female sympathisers. 'Have you any other witnesses to call for the defence?' said the police magistrate, addressing Mr. England, as who should say, the case has lasted long enough. 'But one, your worship, but one. Call Esther Lawless.'