“Would it be proper,” he asked, “for my client to show his respect for the court and dress in a becoming manner; or should he appear in his everyday clothes as a working bricklayer, dirty and unwashed?”

Again I advised, as was my duty, that he should scrupulously regard the dignity of the Bench, and show the greatest respect to the learned Judge who presided; that he ought not to come in a disgraceful costume if he could help it, but appear as becomingly attired as possible.  That was all I said.  Let me also observe, what perhaps there is no occasion to say, that I impressed upon the attorney that his client should abstain from any appearance of attempting to deceive the Judge, and informed him, as the fact was, that his lordship was scrupulously particular in all points of etiquette and decorum.  Moreover, I added as a last word, “The Judge is too shrewd to be taken in.”

After thus duly impressing upon him the importance of a quiet behaviour, I suggested that any costume other than that of the man when actually engaged in the fight might throw some difficulty in the way of a young and inexperienced country constable identifying him.  It was never too late for even a bricklayer to mend his garments or his manners and adjust them to the occasion.  The policeman who alone could identify the Frimley champion had not seen him for many months—­not since the fight, in fact; and the prisoner ought not to appear in the dock in fighting costume, as the young Surrey constable saw him on that one occasion.  Moreover, Baron Parke would not like him to appear in that dress.

This was, as nearly as I can remember, all that took place between us.  Judge, now, of my surprise, if you can, when the case was called on, to see the prisoner appear in the dock looking like a young clergyman, dressed in a complete suit of black, a long frock coat, fitting him up to the neck and very nearly down to the heels.  He had the appearance of a very tame curate.  His hair, instead of being short and stumpy, as when the young policeman saw him, was now long, shiny, and carefully brushed over both sides of his forehead, which gave him the appearance so fashionable amongst the saints of the Old Masters.

I was utterly astounded at the change from the rude, rough bricklayer, scarred all over the face, to the clergyman-like appearance of this gentlemanly prisoner.  I dared not laugh, but it was difficult to maintain my countenance.  Deceive Baron Parke!  I thought; he would deceive the devil himself, who knew a great deal more about parsons than Parke did.

The learned Judge looked at him for a considerable time, as though he had never seen a prize-fighter before, and was determined to make the most of him.  If the ghost of Hamlet had stood in the dock instead of the prisoner, he would not have surprised dear old Parke more than the prisoner did.

It was a masterpiece of deception, notwithstanding my serious warning.