The day set apart for the trial before a jury of “special bail” arrives.  The rosy-faced commissioner is in his seat, a very good-natured jury is impanelled, and the feeble old man is again brought into court.  Maria saunters, thoughtful, and anxious for the result, at the outer door.  Peter Crimpton rises, addresses the jury at great length, sets forth the evident intention of fraud on the part of the applicant, and the enormity of the crime.  He will now prove his objections by competent witnesses.  The proceedings being in accordance with what Mr. Snivel facetiously terms the strict rules of special pleading, the old man’s lips are closed.  Several very respectable witnesses are called, and aver they saw the old Antiquary with a gold watch mounted, at a recent date; witnesses quite as dependable aver they have known him for many years, but never mounted with anything so extravagant as a gold watch.  So much for the validity of testimony!  It is very clear that the very respectable witnesses have confounded some one else with the prisoner.

The Antiquary openly confesses to the possession of a pin, and the curious skull (neither of which are valuable beyond their associations), but declares it more an over-sight than an intention that they were left out of the schedule.  For the virtue of the schedule, Mr. Crimpton is singularly scrupulous; nor does it soften his aspersions that the old man offers to resign them for the benefit of the State.  Mr. Crimpton gives his case to the jury, expressing his belief that a verdict will be rendered in his favor.  A verdict of guilty (for so it is rendered in our courts) will indeed give the prisoner to him for an indefinite period.  In truth, the only drawback is that the plaintiff will be required to pay thirty cents a day to Mr. Hardscrabble, who will starve him rightly soundly.

The jury, very much to Mr. Crimpton’s chagrin, remain seated, and declare the prisoner not guilty.  Was this sufficient-all the law demanded?  No.  Although justice might have been satisfied, the law had other ends to serve, and in the hands of an instrument like Crimpton, could be turned to uses delicacy forbids our transcribing here.  The old man’s persecutors were not satisfied; the verdict of the jury was with him, but the law gave his enemies power to retain him six months longer.  Mr. Crimpton demands a writ of appeal to the sessions.  The Commissioner has no alternative, notwithstanding the character of the pretext upon which it is demanded is patent on its face.  Such is but a feeble description of one of the many laws South Carolina retains on her statute book to oppress the poor and give power to the rich.  If we would but purge ourselves of this distemper of chivalry and secession, that so blinds our eyes to the sufferings of the poor, while driving our politicians mad over the country (we verily believe them all coming to the gallows or insane hospital), how much higher and nobler would be our claim to the respect of the world!