“Miss Folliard, you are aware of the charges which have placed the prisoner at the bar of justice and his country?”

“Not exactly; I have heard little of it beyond the fact of his incarceration.”

“He stands there charged with two very heinous crimes—­one of them, the theft or robbery of a valuable packet of jewels, your father’s property.”

“Oh, no,” she replied, “they are my own exclusive property—­not my father’s.  They were the property of my dear mother, who, on her death-bed, bequeathed them to me, in the presence of my father himself; and I always considered them as mine.”

“But they were found upon the person of the prisoner?”

“Oh, yes; but that is very easily explained.  It is no secret now, that, in order to avoid a marriage which my father was forcing on me with Sir Robert Whitecraft, I chose the less evil, and committed myself to the honor of Mr. Reilly.  If I had not done so I should have committed suicide, I think, rather than marry Whitecraft—­a man so utterly devoid of principle and delicacy that he sent an abandoned female into my father’s house in the capacity of my maid and also as a spy upon my conduct.”

This astounding fact created an immense sensation throughout the court, and the lawyer who was examining her began to feel that her object in coming there was to give evidence in favor of Reilly, and not against him.  He determined, however, to try her a little farther, and proceeded: 

“But, Miss Folliard, how do you account for the fact of the Bingham jewels being found upon the person of the prisoner?”

“It is the simplest thing in the world,” she replied.  “I brought my own jewels with me, and finding”, as we proceeded, that I was likely to lose them, having no pocket sufficiently safe in which to carry them, I asked Reilly to take charge of them, which he did.  Our unexpected capture, and the consequent agitation, prevented him from returning them to me, and they were accordingly found upon his person; but, as for stealing them, he is just as guilty as his lordship on the bench.”

“Miss Folliard,” proceeded the lawyer, “you have taken us by surprise to-day.  How does it happen that you volunteered your evidence against the prisoner, and, now that you have come forward, every word you utter is in his favor?  Your mind must have recently changed—­a fact which takes very much away from the force of that evidence.”

“I pray you, sir, to understand me, and not suffer yourself to be misled.  I never stated that I was about to come here to give evidence against Mr. Reilly; but I said, when strongly pressed to come, that I would come, and see justice done.  Had they asked me my meaning, I would have instantly told them; because, I trust, I am incapable of falsehood; and I will say now, that if my life could obtain that of William Reilly, I would lay it willingly down for him, as I am certain he would lay down his for the preservation of mine.”