Attorney-General’s) brothers and sisters, and honoured him more

than his (Mr. Attorney-General’s) father and mother. That, he

called with confidence on the jury to come and do likewise. That,

the evidence of these two witnesses, coupled with the documents

of their discovering that would be produced, would show the

prisoner to have been furnished with lists of his Majesty’s forces,

and of their disposition and preparation, both by sea and land, and

would leave no doubt that he had habitually conveyed such

information to a hostile power. That, these lists could not be

proved to be in the prisoner’s handwriting; but that it was all the

same; that, indeed, it was rather the better for the prosecution, as

showing the prisoner to be artful in his precautions. That, the

proof would go back five years, and would show the prisoner

already engaged in these pernicious missions within a few weeks

before the date of the very first action fought between the British

troops and the Americans. That, for these reasons, the jury, being

Charles Dickens ElecBook Classics

a loyal jury (as he knew they were), and being a responsible jury

(as they knew they were), must positively find the prisoner Guilty,

and make an end of him, whether they liked it or not. That, they

never could lay their heads upon their pillows; that, they never

could tolerate the idea of their wives laying their heads upon their

pillows; that, they could never endure the notion of their children

laying their heads upon their pillows; in short, that there never

more could be, for them or theirs, any laying of heads upon pillows

at all, unless the prisoner’s head was taken off. That head Mr.

Attorney-General concluded by demanding of them, in the name

of everything he could think of with a round turn in it, and on the

faith of his solemn asseveration that he already considered the

prisoner as good as dead and gone.

When the Attorney-General ceased, a buzz arose in the court as

if a cloud of great blue-flies were swarming about the prisoner, in

anticipation of what he was soon to become. When toned down

again, the unimpeachable patriot appeared in the witness-box.

Mr. Solicitor-General then, following his leader’s lead,

examined the patriot: John Barsad, gentleman, by name. The

story of his pure soul was exactly what Mr. Attorney-General had

described it to beperhaps, if it had a fault, a little too exactly.

Having released his noble bosom of its burden, he would have

modestly withdrawn himself, but that the wigged gentleman with

the papers before him, sitting not far from Mr. Lorry, begged to

ask him a few questions. The wigged gentleman sitting opposite,

still looking at the ceiling of the court.

Had he ever been a spy himself? No, he scorned the base

insinuation. What did he live upon? His property. Where was his

property? He didn’t precisely remember where it was. What was

Charles Dickens ElecBook Classics

it? No business of anybody’s. Had he inherited it? Yes, he had.

From whom? Distant relatives. Very distant? Rather. Ever been in

prison? Certainly not. Never in a debtor’s prison? Didn’t see what