"Yes,—I do like it. Now—upon your oath—is he not a pawnbroker in Brick-lane, Bethnal Green?"
"He is a goldsmith in a large way of business, and lends money occasionally——"
"Ha!" complacently observed the counsel for the defence. "Go on, sir: lends money occasionally—"
"Upon real security, I suppose," added Chichester, taken considerably aback by these questions.
"Upon deposits; let us give things their proper names. He lends money upon flannel petticoat—watches—flat-irons, &c.," observed the barrister, with withering sarcasm. "But I have not done with you yet, sir. Was your father—this very respectable pawnbroker—ever elevated to the peerage?"
"He was not, sir."
"Then how come you by the distinction of Honourable prefixed to your name?"
Mr. Chichester hung down his head, and made no reply. The counsel for the prisoner repeated the question in a deliberate and emphatic matter. At length, Mr. Chichester was fairly bullied into a humble acknowledgment "that he had no right to the distinction, but that he had assumed it as a convenient West-End appendage." The cross examination then proceeded.
"Did you not travel under the name of Winchester?"
"I did—in Germany."