Mr. H. (Aside: H’m! old beggar will be so very specific. Let’s try him as to the sedition.) (To Arch.) My lord, you said that you were shocked at what the prisoner said: what was the nature of his discourse?
Arch. I regret to have to say that it was a mass of the most frightful incendiarism, delivered with an occasional air of jocularity and dry humour that made my flesh creep. Amidst the persistent attacks on property he did not spare other sacred things. He even made an attack on my position, stating (wrongly) the amount of my moderate stipend. Indeed, I think he recognised me, although I was partially disguised.
J. F. (Aside: True for you, old Benson, or else how could I have subpœnaed you?)
Mr. H. I thank your Grace: that will do.
J. F. I now call Lord Tennyson.
[Lord Tennyson sworn.
J. F. My lord, have you been present, in disguise, at a meeting of the Socialist League in 13 Farringdon Road?
Lord T. What’s that to you? What do you want to know for? Yes, I have, if it comes to that.
J. F. Who brought you there?
Lord T. A policeman: one Potlegoff. I thought he was a Russian by his name, but it seems he is an Englishman—and a liar. He said it would be exciting: so I went.