“I believe I would, sir,” was the answer.
“You must be sure, my good man. Belief is too vague for us here,” said the prisoner's lawyer.
“Is this it?” said the solicitor, as, breaking the seals of the parcel before him, he held up a coat, which, ragged and eaten by worms, seemed of a far darker color than that described by witness.
The old man took it in his hands and examined it over carefully, inspecting with all the minute curiosity of age every portion of the garment The suspense at this moment was terrible; not a syllable was spoken; not a breath stirred; nothing but the long-drawn respirations of the prisoner, who, still leaning on the iron railing of the dock, watched the old man's motions with the most harrowing intensity.
“Let me see it on him,” said the witness, at last
“Prisoner, put on that coat,” said the judge.
Meekins tried to smile as he proceeded to obey; but the effort was too much, and the features became fixed into one rigid expression, resembling the look of hysteric laughter.
“Well, do you know me now?” cried he, in a voice whose every accent rang with a tone of intimidation and defiance.