There is little difficulty in proving the indictment, while the poor wretch in the dock sits huddled in his chair, trying vainly to conceal his face with his handkerchief. A couple of his own clerks swear that the signature to the deed is a forgery. Tear-stained Miss Young, whom most regard as the sister-in-law of the accused man, proves that her slender store of investments has been pilfered. Officials of the Bank show that the unhappy prisoner was the thief. There crops up a curious instance of the _naïveté_ of British jurisprudence. For Threadneedle Street has been obliged to refund the stocks belonging to Miss Young in order to make her ‘a competent witness’ lest it might seem that she has a motive in affirming or denying the forgery of the power of attorney. Thus the Old Lady confesses that she has bribed a witness in order that this witness may not be suspected of trying to obtain a bribe! [Illustration: _FAUNTLEROY’S TRIAL AT THE OLD BAILEY._] When Fauntleroy is called upon for his defence, he manages to stagger to his feet. The law of England will not allow his counsel to speak for him. Drawing a paper from his bosom, and wiping away the tears that stream from his eyes, he adjusts his glasses. Then, in a clumsy, insincere manner, like a schoolboy’s recitation, he begins to read a long apology. It is apparent that he has not written the speech himself, and it makes no impression. Commencing with a complaint against the false and libellous accounts in the press, he sketches the history of the Berners Street Bank in order to show that it has received the benefit of the whole of his forgeries; describing how he alone has borne the burden of the business and the anxiety of perilous speculations, while his partners have given him no assistance. All his frauds were accomplished to cover commercial losses, the withdrawal of borrowed capital, and the overdrafts of two of his colleagues. To every one of the charges of prodigality he offers an emphatic denial. In conclusion, he makes a pathetic vindication of his conduct towards his wife, declaring that not only are the statements published in the newspapers false, but that she has had always the best of feeling towards him. Although just and merciful, the address of the judge is hostile to the prisoner, and the jury, who retire at ten minutes to three, return in less than a quarter of an hour with a verdict of guilty. Exhausted with his long ordeal, poor Fauntleroy is incapable of exhibiting emotion. A vacant expression is stamped on his pallid features, and when Justice Park tells him that the trial is over he sinks listlessly into his chair. Raising him in his arms, Governor Wontner supports him from the dock.