e was struck with his marvellous recollection, and was at once pinned
down to an affidavit:--

"The Claimant's voice is stronger, and has less foreign accent,"
he swore; "but I recognized his voice, and found his tone and
pronunciation to be _the same as Roger Tichborne's_, whom I knew as an
officer."

Truly an affidavit is a powerful auxiliary in fraud.

While Mr. Hawkins was replying one afternoon, Mr. Whalley, M.P., came
in and sat next to the Claimant. He was from the first one of his most
enthusiastic supporters.

"Well," he said, "and how are we getting on to-day? How are we getting
on, eh?"

"Getting on!" growled the Claimant; "he's been going on at a pretty
rate, and if he goes on much longer I shall begin to think I am Arthur
Orton after all."

I will conclude this chapter with the following reminiscences by Lord
Brampton himself.]

* * * * *

I had a great deal to put up with from day to day in many ways during
this prolonged investigation. The Lord Chief Justice, Cockburn,
although good, was a little impatient, and hard to please at times.

My opponent sought day by day some cause of quarrel with me. At times
he was most insulting, and grew almost hourly worse, until I was
compelled, in order to stop his insults, to declare openly that I
would never speak to him again on this side the grave, and I never
did. My life was made miserable, and what ought to have been a quiet
and orderly performance was rendered a continual scene of bickering
and conflict, too often about the most trifling matters.

With every one else I got on happily and agreeably, my juniors loyally
doing their very utmost to render me every assistance and lighten my
burden.

Even the Claimant himself not only gave me no offence from first to
last, but was at times in his manner very amusing, and preserved his
natural good temper admirably, considering what he had at stake on
the issue of the trial, and remembering also that that issue devolved
mainly upon my own personal exertions.

Nor was the Claimant devoid of humour. On the contrary, he was
plentifully endowed with it.

One morning on his going into court an elderly lady dressed in deep
mourning presented him with a religious tract. He thanked her, went
to his seat, and perused the document. Then he wrote something on the
tract, carefully revised what he had written, and threw it on the
floor.

The usher was watching these proceedings, and