“Silence!” cries the Clerk, who has himself been looking out of window; the shuffling of feet ceases, and it is found that after this long consultation the Bench have dismissed both charges. The next case on the list is poaching; and at the call of his name one of the gipsy-looking men advances, and is ordered to stand before that part of the table which by consent represents the bar. “Oby Bottleton,” says the Clerk, half reading, half extemporizing, and shuffling his papers to conceal certain slips of technicality; “you are charged with trespassing in pursuit of game at Essant Hill—that you did use a wire on the estate—on land in the occupation of Johnson.”—“It’s a lie!” cries a good-looking, dark-complexioned woman, who has come up behind the defendant (the whilome navvy), and carries a child so wrapped in a shawl as to be invisible. “Silence! or you’ll have to go outside the court. Mr. Dalton Dessant will leave the Bench during the hearing of this case.” Mr. Dalton Dessant, one of the silent magistrates already alluded to, bows to the chairman, and wriggles his chair back about two feet from the table. There he gazes at the ceiling. He is one of the trustees of the Essant Hill property; and the Bench are very careful to consult public opinion in L—— borough. The first witness is an assistant keeper: the head keeper stands behind him—a fine man, still upright and hearty-looking, but evidently at the beginning of the vale of years; he holds his hat in his hand; the sunlight falls through the casement on his worn velveteen jacket. The assistant, with the aid of a few questions from the Clerk, gives his evidence very clear and fairly. “I saw the defendant’s van go down the lane,” he says: “It bean’t my van,” interrupts the defendant; “it’s my brother’s.” “You’ll have an opportunity of speaking presently,” says the Clerk. “Go on” (to the witness). “After the van went down the lane, it stopped by the highway-road, and the horse was taken out. The women left the van with baskets, and went towards the village.” “Yes, yes; come to the point. Did you hide yourself by order of the head keeper?” “I did—in the nutwood hedge by Three Corner Piece; after a bit I saw the defendant.” “Had you any reason for watching there?” “There was a wire and a rabbit in it.” “Well, what happened?” “I waited a long time, and presently the defendant got over the gate. He was very particular not to step on the soft mud by the gate—he kind of leaped over it, not to leave the mark of his boots. He had a lurcher with him, and I was afraid the dog would scent me in the hedge.” “You rascal!” (from the defendant’s wife). “But he didn’t, and, after looking carefully round, the defendant picked up the rabbit, and put it and the wire in his pocket.” “What did you do then?”