The Judge watched the defendant and his counsel in their whispered consultation for a few minutes, and then said:  “It seems to the Court that the defense can reasonably ask for nothing more than this.”

Mr. Belcher hesitated.  He had not anticipated this turn of the case.  There appeared to be no alternative, however, and, at last, he rose with a very red face, and walked to the witness-stand, placing himself just where Mr. Balfour wanted him—­in a position to be cross-examined.

It is useless to rehearse here the story which had been prepared for Phipps, and for which Phipps had been prepared.  Mr. Belcher swore to all the signatures to the assignment, as having been executed in his presence, on the day corresponding with the date of the paper.  He was permitted to enlarge upon all the circumstances of the occasion, and to surround the execution of the assignment with the most ingenious plausibilities.  He told his story with a fine show of candor, and with great directness and clearness, and undoubtedly made a profound impression upon the Court and the jury.  Then Mr. Cavendish passed him into the hands of Mr. Balfour.

“Well, Mr. Belcher, you have told us a very straight story, but there are a few little matters which I would like to have explained,” said Mr. Balfour.  “Why, for instance, was your assignment placed on record only a few months ago?”

“Because I was not a lawyer, sir,” replied Mr. Belcher, delighted that the first answer was so easy and so plausible.  “I was not aware that it was necessary, until so informed by Mr. Cavendish.”

“Was Mr. Benedict’s insanity considered hopeless from the first?”

“No,” replied Mr. Belcher, cheerfully; “we were quite hopeful that we should bring him out of it.”

“He had lucid intervals, then.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Was that the reason why, the next day after the alleged assignment, you wrote him a letter, urging him to make the assignment, and offering him a royalty for the use of his patents?”

“I never wrote any such letter, sir.  I never sent him any such letter, sir.”

“You sent him to the asylum, did you?”

“I co-operated with others, sir, and paid the bills,” said Mr. Belcher, with emphasis.

“Did you ever visit the asylum when he was there?”

“I did, sir.”

“Did you apply to the superintendent for liberty to secure his signature to a paper?”

“I do not remember that I did.  It would have been an unnatural thing for me to do.  If I did, it was a paper on some subordinate affair.  It was some years ago, and the details of the visit did not impress themselves upon my memory.”

“How did you obtain the letters of Nicholas Johnson and James Ramsey?  I ask this, because they are not addressed to you.”

“I procured them of Sam Yates, in anticipation of the trial now in progress here.  The witnesses were dead, and I thought they would help me in establishing the genuineness of their signatures.”