matter—­the prisoner at the bar.  I had had my suspicions of him for some time.  I had seen him on three separate occasions as a candidate at public examinations.  His nomination was correct and genuine, but (as I have since discovered) it had been issued to another person.  He succeeded in every instance in obtaining the appointments in question for his employers, who received them in due course, though they have, I believe, since been canceled.  In the case of Chandos, a letter was written, by the supposed successful candidate, to the authorities of the government branch—­the India Board—­under which he was to serve, so grossly misspelled that the fraud was at once suspected.  In this instance the guilt was brought home to the prisoner by the confession of the young man Chandos himself, who paid over to him a considerable sum of money for the service in question.  But I am now in a position to prove that on several other occasions the prisoner has committed the same offense; and, in short, if he may be said to have a calling, it is that of personating, at competitive examinations, young gentlemen of small ability, who are thus enabled to secure situations and appointments which they could otherwise never obtain.”

Mr. Justice Bantam had his prejudices, but he had a fair and honest mind.

“This is a most unlooked-for communication, Brother Balais,” said he, doubtfully; “and it is not permitted you to cross-examine upon a point of character.”

“I am sorry to say, my lud,” returned Mr. Balais, after a hurried conversation with the little attorney, “that my client is not in a position to dispute the evidence just adduced.  He prefers to throw himself upon the mercy of the court, on the ground—­a very tenable one, I think—­of his youth and,” he was going to add “inexperience,” but, under the circumstances, he thought it better not—­“of his extreme youth, my lud; my unhappy client is barely eighteen years of age.”

“Very good,” said Mr. Justice Bantam, looking as if it could not be worse.  “Hem!  Prisoner at the bar:  after a careful and fair trial, in which you have had the benefit of the best legal aid, you have been found guilty of the charge of which you are accused.  In that verdict I cordially concur.  The offense was a very serious one; but the endeavor which you have made to screen yourself, at the expense of that beautiful and innocent young girl, is, in my opinion, still more heinous and contemptible than the crime itself.  Having made yourself master of her affections, you used your power to the utmost to effect her moral and social hurt.  You would have had her perjure herself, and proclaim herself guilty of a crime she did not commit, in order that you might yourself escape justice.  Nobody who heard her evidence—­who saw her in yonder box—­can doubt it.  Still, as your counsel has just remarked, you are but a youth in years, and I looked about me in hopes to find some extenuating circumstances in your past career—­some record