The Marquis of Amesbury sat at a table near the fireplace, on which lay, amongst other things, the papers that O'Rourke had signed and sworn to, the certificates of Gerald's birth and of his enrolment by Ulster King-of-Arms as the Viscount St. Amande in the peerage of Ireland, several affidavits from nurses and tutors to whom the lad had been put in the country, stating that the child delivered to them was always spoken of by the late lord as his son; and many other documents. At the end of the room were three witnesses who had been brought over from Ireland to testify that, to their certain knowledge and belief, Gerald was the lad they had known as the late lord's son. One of these witnesses was the Protestant clergyman of New Ross, now a very aged man; another was the steward of the estate where Gerald had been born; a third the nurse who had had him in charge from his earliest hours and had identified him by the marks upon his body. Next to the Marquis, and on his right hand, Gerald was placed, and next to him I sat. On his left was no less a personage than the renowned Sir Robert Walpole, who had now ruled the country for many years, after having triumphed over all his enemies--even those who had had him dismissed from the Parliament and committed to the Tower. He was a man who, had one met him in the street, they would have been disposed to regard more as a jolly, beef-loving squire in London for a week's shopping and sight-seeing, than aught else. There, too, was William, third Duke of Devonshire--a courtly, grave gentleman, who had not yet, or barely, reached the prime of life; Lord Trevor and many others, to all of whom I was presented as the Lady St. Amande and future Marchioness of Amesbury. All greeted me most courteously, asking me many questions as to our colony and especially as to its loyalty, of which I was able to testify proudly, though I know not if I might have said as much of some of the more northern ones. The extremely polite, also, made me many compliments and, in their fashionable jargon, exclaimed that they trusted, now that I had shed the light of my eyes upon the mother country, I should never withdraw it wholly again. But these speeches I regarded only as foolishness and scarce worth answering. And now the Marquis, addressing them, said: