Then the evidence was given. One after the other they manfully stood up: kissed the book: and committed perjury. Sir John Fielding asked the Doctor several questions. He was evidently doubtful: his clerk whispered again: he pressed the doctor as to alleged profession and position. However, the man stuck to his tale. The fact that the purse was found in my pocket was very strong. Then the Captain told his story. Mr. Merridew did not attempt any disguise: he was too well known in Court: he stated that he was a Sheriff's officer--named Merridew--everybody in the court gazed upon him with the greatest curiosity, the women whispering and looking from him to me. 'Who is he?' they asked each other. 'What has he done? Do you know him--do you?' The surprise at the appearance of a stranger in the dock charged on the evidence of the worthy sheriff's officer caused general surprise. However, Mr. Merridew took no notice of the whispering. He was apparently callous: he took it perhaps as proof of popularity and admiration: he gave his evidence in the manner of one accustomed to bear witness, as indeed he was, having perhaps given evidence oftener than any other living man. He stated that he had joined a stranger to walk from the Tottenham Court Road to Charing Cross, each carrying a cudgel for self-defence: that he observed the action described by the worthy and learned Doctor of Divinity from Ireland: that his companion, this gallant young gentleman, rushed out to the rescue of the clergyman, and so forth. So he retired with a front of iron. Mr. Probus added to the evidence which you have already heard the statement that he came accidentally upon the party and after the business was over: that he happened to have been attorney to the late Sir Peter Halliday: that he recognized the robber as the unnatural son of that good man, turned out of his father's home for his many crimes and vices: and that in the interest of justice and respect for the laws of his country he went out of his way, and was at great personal loss and inconvenience in order to give this evidence. The Magistrate put no questions to him. He turned to me and asked if I had anything to say or any evidence to offer. I had none, except--that I was no highwayman, but a respectable musician, and that this was a conspiracy. 'You will have the opportunity,' said Sir John, 'of proving the fact. Meantime, in the face of this evidence, conspiracy or not, I have no choice but to commit you to Newgate, there to remain until your trial.' They set me aside and the next case was called. So you understand, there are other ways of compassing a man's death besides simple murder. It is sufficient to enter into a conspiracy and to charge him with an offence which, by the laws of the country, is punishable by death. CHAPTER IX NEWGATE