“And how the deuce do you know that?”

“Because I was head bailiff to him for ten years.”

“But doesn’t all the world know that he hates the Papists, and would have them massacred if he could?”

“And so he does—­and so he would; but it’s all his cowardice, because he’s afraid that if he was harsh to his Popish tenants some of them might shoot him from behind a hedge some fine night, and give him a leaden bullet for his supper.”

“I know he’s a coward,” observed another, “because he allowed himself to be horsewhipped by Major Bingham, and didn’t call him out for it.”

“Oh, as to that,” said another, “it was made up by their friends; but what’s to be done?  All the evidence is against him, and we are on our oaths to find a verdict according to the evidence.”

“Evidence be hanged,” said another; “I’ll sit here till doom’s-day before I find him guilty.  Are we, that are all loyal Protestants, to bring out a varjuice to please the Papishes?  Oh, no, faith; but here’s the thing, gentlemen; mark me; here now, I take off my shoes, and I’ll ait them before I find him guilty;” and as he spoke he deliberately slipped of his shoes, and placed them on the table, ready for his tough and loyal repast.

“By Gog,” said another, “I’ll hang him, in spite of your teeth; and, afther aiten your brogues, you may go barefooted if you like.  I have brogues to ait as well as you, and one of mine is as big as two of yours.”

This was followed by a chorus of laughter, after which they began to consider the case before them, like admirable and well-reasoning jurors, as they were.  Two hours passed in wrangling and talking and recriminating, when, at last, one of them, striking the table, exclaimed with an oath: 

“All Europe won’t save the villain.  Didn’t he seduce my sister’s daughter, and then throw her and her child back, with shame and disgrace, on the family, without support?”

“Look at that,” said the owner of the shoe, holding it up triumphantly; “that’s my supper to-night, and my argument in his defence.  I say our—­Protestant champion mustn’t hang, at least until I starve first.”

The other, who sat opposite to him, put his hand across the table, and snatching the shoe, struck its owner between the two eyes with it and knocked him back on the floor.  A scene of uproar took place, which lasted for some minutes, but at length, by the influence of the foreman, matters were brought to a somewhat amicable issue.  In this way they spent the time for a few hours more, when one of the usual messengers came to know if they had agreed; but he was instantly dismissed to a very warm settlement, with the assurance that they had not.

“Come,” said one of them, pulling out a pack of cards, “let us amuse ourselves at any rate.  Who’s for a hand at the Spoil Five?”

The cards were looked upon as a godsend, and in a few moments one half the jury were busily engaged at that interesting game.  The other portion of them amused themselves, in the meantime, as well as they could.