Bacon came forward, dressed in an entire new suit of clothes, and appearing much more respectable than was his wont. This man’s testimony was almost word for word as it has already been given in the coroner’s inquest. He established the facts of the fire, about which there could be no prudent contention indeed, and of the finding of the skeletons; for he had been one of those who aided in first searching the ruins for the remains. This man told his story in an extremely vulgar dialect, as we have had already occasion to show; but in a very clear, distinct manner. He meant to tell the truth, and succeeded reasonably well; for it does not occur to all who have the same upright intentions to effect their purposes as well as he did himself. Dunscomb’s cross-examination was very brief; for he perceived it was useless to attempt to deny what had been thus proved. “Jane Pope”—called out the District Attorney—“Is Mrs. Jane Pope in court?” The widow Pope was on the spot, and ready and willing to answer. She removed her bonnet, took the oath, and was shown to the seat with which it is usual to accommodate persons of her sex. “Your name,” said Dunscomb, holding his pen over the paper. “Pope—Jane Pope since my marriage; but Jane Anderson from my parents.” Dunscomb listened politely, but recorded no more than the appellation of the widow. Mrs. Pope now proceeded to tell her story, which she did reasonably well, though not without a good deal of unnecessary amplitude, and some slight contradictions. It was _her_ intention, also, to tell nothing but the truth; but persons whose tongues move as nimbly as that of this woman’s, do not always know exactly what they do say. Dunscomb detected the contradictions; but he had the tact to see their cause, saw that they were not material, and wisely abstained from confounding whatever of justice there was in the defence with points that the jury had probably sufficient sagacity to see were of no great moment. He made no note, therefore, of these little oversights, and allowed the woman to tell her whole story uninterrupted. When it came to his turn to cross-examine, however, the duty of so doing was not neglected. “You say, Mrs. Pope, that you had often seen the stocking in which Mrs. Goodwin kept her gold. Of what material was that stocking?” “Wool—yes, of blue woollen yarn. A stocking knit by hand, and very darny.” “Should you know the stocking, Mrs. Pope, were you to see it again?” “I think I might. Dolly Goodwin and I looked over the gold together more than once; and the stocking got to be a sort of acquaintance.” “Was this it?” continued Dunscomb, taking a stocking of the sort described from Timms, who sat ready to produce the article at the proper moment. “If it please the court,” cried Williams, rising in haste, and preparing eagerly to interrupt the examination.