Leaving his young witness outside, Mr. Harvey re-entered the court.
"How does the trial go on?" asked he of a friend.
"All in favour of the prisoners: there is no doubt of their innocence and of their acquittal."
At this moment, the counsel for the prosecution stated that he had new facts to communicate, and important evidence to examine; and Mr. Harvey entered the witness-box.
We have already narrated what he had to tell.
The child was next called, evidently all surprise at the crowd and the scene; and, when first questioned, apparently too much abashed to reply. But he was naturally a fearless little fellow, and soon gave the most simple and straight-forward answers. On being asked if he understood the difference between truth and falsehood, he said—
"Yes, he knew it was very wicked to tell stories, but that he never did it."
The knife was then shewn him, which he recognised with a cry of delight; and stated, in the most artless and positive manner, how he came to sell it. He had been peeling a hazel twig, which he had taken from the copse adjoining the gipsy's tent—had cut his finger, which made him angry with the knife—at that moment the gipsy had come out of his tent, and offered him a string of birds' eggs for it—and he had accordingly made the exchange on the spot.
