This, too, was a very simple question, but the witness no longer answered promptly. The reader will remember that Mary Monson had said, before the coroner, that she had two of these coins, and that she had given one of them to the poor unfortunate deceased, and had left the other in her own purse. This answer had injured the cause of the accused, inasmuch as it was very easy to tell such a tale, while few in Biberry were disposed to believe that gold passed thus freely, and without any consideration, from hand to hand. Mrs. Burton remembered all this, and, for a reason best known to herself, she shrunk a little from making the required reply. Still she did answer this question also, and answered it truly. “I understood aunt Dolly to say that Mary Monson made her a present of that piece of money.” Here Timms elevated his nose, and looked around him in a meaning manner, that appealed to the audience to know if his client were not a person of veracity. Sooth to say, this answer made a strong impression in favour of the accused, and Dunscomb saw with satisfaction that, in-so-much, he had materially gained ground. He was not a man to gain it, however, by dramatic airs; he merely paused for a few moments, in order to give full effect to this advantage. “Mrs. Goodwin, then, owned to you that she had the coin from Mary Monson, and that it was a present?” was the next question. “She did, sir.” “Did she say anything about Mary Monson’s having another piece of money, like the one before you, and which was given by her to Dorothy Goodwin?” A long pause succeeded. The witness raised a hand to her brow, and appeared to meditate. Her reputation for taciturnity and gravity of deportment was such, that most of those in court believed she was endeavouring to recollect the past, in order to say neither more nor less than the truth. In point of fact, she was weighing well the effect of her words, for she was a person of extreme caution, and of great reputed probity of character. The reply came at length— “She did speak on the subject,” she said, “and did state something of the kind.” “Can you recollect her words—if so, give them to the jury—if not her very words, their substance.” “Aunt Dolly had a way of her own in talking, which makes it very difficult to repeat her precise words; but she said, in substance, that Mary Monson had two of these pieces of money, one of which was given to _her_.” “Mary Monson, then, kept the other?” “So I understood it, sir.” “Have you any knowledge yourself, on this subject?—If so, state it to the jury.” Another pause, one even longer than before, and again the hand was raised to the brow. The witness now spoke with extreme caution, seeming to feel her way among the facts, as a cat steals on its prey. “I believe I have—a little—some—I have seen Mary Monson’s purse, and I _believe_ I saw a piece of money in it which resembled this.” “Are you not _certain_ of the fact?” “Perhaps I am.”