“I was, sir,” cried Clerke, eager to bring out this part of the evidence, as it had been prepared for him by Sir Robert; “I surely was; and I remember it particularly, because of a little remarkable circumstance: Sir John, God bless him!--I think I see him now--My lord, under this seal,” continued the old man, addressing himself to the judge, and putting his shrivelled finger upon the seal, “under this very seal Sir John put a sixpence--and he called upon me to observe him doing it--for, my lord, it is my opinion, he thought then of what might come to pass--he had a sort of a foreboding of this day. And now, my lord, order them, if you please, to break the seal--break it before them all,--and if there is not the sixpence under it, why this deed is not Sir John’s, and this is none of my writing, and,” cried he, lifting up his hands and eyes, “I am a liar, and perjured.” There was a profound silence. The seal was broken. The sixpence appeared. It was handed in triumph, by Sir Robert Percy’s counsel, to the jury and to the judge. There seemed to be no longer a doubt remaining in the minds of the jury--and a murmur of congratulation among the partisans of Sir Robert seemed to anticipate the verdict. “‘Tis all over, I fear,” whispered Friend to Alfred. “Alfred, you have done all that could be done, but they have sworn through every thing--it is over with us.” “Not yet,” said Alfred. Every eye turned upon him, some from pity, some from curiosity, to see how he bore his defeat. At length, when there was silence, he begged to be permitted to look at the sixpence. The judge ordered that it should be shown to him. He held it to the light to examine the date of the coin; he discovered a faint impression of a head on the sixpence, and, upon closer inspection, he made out the date, and showed clearly that the date of the coin was later than the date of the deed: so that there was an absolute impossibility that this sixpence could have been put under the seal of the deed by Sir John. The moment Alfred stated this fact, the counsel on the opposite side took the sixpence, examined it, threw down his brief, and left the court. People looked at each other in astonishment. The judge ordered that William Clerke should be detained, that he might be prosecuted by the crown for perjury. The old man fell back senseless. Mr. Sharpe and Sir Robert Percy pushed their way together out of court, disclaimed by all who had till now appeared as their friends. No farther evidence was offered, so that here the trial closed. The judge gave a short, impressive charge to the jury, who, without withdrawing, instantly gave their verdict in favour of the plaintiff, Lewis Percy--a verdict that was received with loud acclamations, which not even respect to the court could restrain.