“He had.”

“He had?  You hear that gentlemen—­at the time he refused to be searched he had the jewellery upon his person.”

The sheriff was then cross-examined by Fox, to the following effect: 

“Mr. Sheriff, have you been acquainted, or are you acquainted, with the prisoner at the bar?”

“Yes; I have known him for about three years—­almost ever since he settled in this county.”

“What is your opinion of him?”

“My opinion of him is very high.”

“Yes—­your opinion of him is very high,” with a significant glance at the jury—­“I believe it is, and I believe it ought to be.  Now, upon your oath, do you believe that the prisoner at the bar is capable of the theft or robbery imputed to him?”

“I do not!”

“You do not?  What did he say when the jewels were found upon him?”

“He refused to surrender them to Mr. Folliard as having no legal claim upon them, and refused, at first, to place them in any hands but Miss Folliard’s own; but, on understanding that she was not in—­a state to receive them from him, he placed them in mine.”

“Then he considered that they were Miss Folliard’s personal property, and not her father’s?”

“So it seemed to me from what he said at the time.”

“That will do, sir; you may go down.”

“Alexander Folliard” and the father then made his appearance on the table; he looked about him, with a restless eye, and appeared in a state of great agitation, but it was the agitation of an enraged and revengeful man.

He turned his eyes upon Reilly, and exclaimed with bitterness:  “There you are, Willy Reilly, who have stained the reputation of my child, and disgraced her family.”

“Mr. Folliard,” said his lawyer, “you have had in your possession very valuable family jewels.”

“I had.”

“Whose property were they?”

“Why, mine, I should think.”

“Could you identify them?”

“Certainly I could.”

“Are these the jewels in question?”

The old man put on his spectacles, and examined them closely.

“They are; I know every one of them.”

“They were stolen from you?”

“They were.”

“On whose person, after having been stolen, were they found?”

“On the person of the prisoner at the bar.”

“You swear that?”

“I do; because I saw him take them out of his pocket in my own house after he had been made prisoner and detected.”

“Then they are your property?”

“Certainly—­I consider them my property; who else’s property could they be.”

“Pray, is not your daughter a minor?”

“She is.”

“And a ward in the Court of Chancery?”

“Yes.”

“That will do, sir.”

The squire was then about to leave the table, when Mr. Fox addressed him: 

“Not yet, Mr. Folliard, if you please; you swear the jewels are yours?”