“Yes, sir,” “No, sir;” that was all.

As I have said, at this time I had not had much experience in cross-examination, but I had some intuitive knowledge of the art waiting to be developed.  Napoleon gave me my first lesson in that department.

“I am afraid, sir,” said his Highness, “you have been sadly misinstructed in this case.”

“I am afraid, sir, I have,” said I.  “One or the other of us must be wrong, and I am much inclined to think it’s my solicitor.”

It was a nice little bull, which the Prince liked apparently, for he laughed good-humouredly, and especially when I found, as I quickly did, that my strength was to sit still, which I also did.

I had learned by this exhibition of forces that there was a defence, if I could only keep it up my sleeve.  To expose it before the magistrate would simply enable Clarkson, who was opposed to me, to bring up reinforcements, and knock me into a cocked hat instead of Napoleon.  Old Saul knew nothing whatever about my intended manoeuvre, nor did Clarkson or his solicitor.

I knew the man would be committed for trial; the magistrate had intimated as much.  I therefore said nothing, except that I would reserve my defence.

Had I said a word, Clarkson would have shaped his indictment to meet the objection which I intended to make; the man, however, was committed to the Old Bailey in total ignorance of what defence was to be made.

The case was tried before Baron Alderson, as shrewd a Judge, perhaps, as ever adorned the Bench.

When I took my point, he at once saw the difficulty Napoleon was in—­a difficulty from which no Napoleon could escape even by a coup d’etat.

It was, in fact, this—­simple as A B C:—­

When the bills of exchange were received by Pollard, although he intended to defraud, they were neither drawn nor accepted, and so were not bills of exchange at all; another process was necessary before they could become so even in appearance, and that was forgery.

Moreover, there was included in this point another objection—­namely, that the stamps signed by the Prince having been handed to him with the intention that they should be subsequently filled up, they were not valuable securities (for stealing which the ill-used Pollard was indicted) at the time they were appropriated, and could not therefore be so treated.

In short, the legal truth was that Pollard neither stole nor obtained either bill of exchange (for such they were not at that time) or valuable security.

Such was the law.  I believe Napoleon said the devil must have made it, or worked it into that “tam shape!”

There were many technicalities in the law of those days, and justice was often defeated by legal quibbles.  But the law was so severe in its punishments that Justice herself often connived at its evasion.  At the present day there is a gradual tendency to make punishment more lenient and more certain—­to remove the entanglements of the pleader, and render progress towards substantial instead of technical justice more sure and speedy.  Napoleon’s defeat could not have occurred at the present day—­not, at all events, in that “tam shape.”