“Does the counsel for the defence wish to cross-examine the witness?” inquired the judge.

“I believe not,” said Mr. Cavendish, with a nod; and then Harry went to his seat, at the side of Jim Fenton, who hugged him so that he almost screamed.  “Ye’re a brick, little feller,” Jim whispered.  “That was a Happy David, an’ a Goliar into the bargin.  You’ve knocked the Ph’listine this time higher nor a kite.”

“May it please the Court,” said Mr. Cavendish, “I have witnesses here who knew Paul Benedict during all his residence in Sevenoaks, and who are ready to testify that they do not know the person who presents himself here to-day, as the plaintiff in this case.  I comprehend the disadvantage at which I stand, with only negative testimony at my command.  I know how little value it has, when opposed to such as has been presented here; and while I am convinced that my client is wronged, I shall be compelled, in the end, to accept the identity of the plaintiff as established.  If I believed the real Paul Benedict, named in the patents in question, in this case, to be alive, I should be compelled to fight this question to the end, by every means in my power, but the main question at issue, as to whom the title to these patents rests in, can be decided between my client and a man of straw, as well as between him and the real inventor.  That is the first practical issue, and to save the time of the Court, I propose to proceed to its trial; and first I wish to cross-examine the plaintiff.”

Mr. Benedict resumed the stand.

“Witness, you pretend to be the owner of the patents in question, in this case, and the inventor of the machines, implements and processes which they cover, do you?” said Mr. Cavendish.

“I object to the form of the question,” said Mr. Balfour.  “It is an insult to the witness, and a reflection upon the gentleman’s own sincerity, in accepting the identity of the plaintiff.”

“Very well,” said Mr. Cavendish, “since the plaintiff’s counsel is so difficult to please!  You are the owner of these patents, are you?”

“I am, sir.”

“You have been insane, have you sir?”

“I suppose I have been, sir.  I was very ill for a long time, and have no doubt that I suffered from mental alienation.”

“What is your memory of things that occurred immediately preceding your insanity?”

Mr. Benedict and his counsel saw the bearings of this question, at once, but the witness would no more have lied than he would have stolen, or committed murder.  So he answered:  “It is very much confused, sir.”

“Oh, it is!  I thought so!  Then you cannot swear to the events immediately preceding your attack?”

“I am afraid I cannot, sir, at least, not in their order or detail.”

“No!  I thought so!” said Mr. Cavendish, in his contemptuous manner, and rasping voice.  “I commend your prudence.  Now, witness, if a number of your neighbors should assure you that, on the day before your attack, you did a certain thing, which you do not remember to have done, how should you regard their testimony?”