Samuel Axworthy himself was next called. His florid face wore
something of the puffed, stupefied look it had had at the inquest,
but his words were ready, and always to the point. He identified the
bag in which the money had been found, giving an account of it
similar to Hardy's, and adding that he had last seen it lying by his
cousin's desk. His uncle had no account with any London bank, all
transactions had of late passed through his own hands, and he had
never known the prisoner employed in any business of importance--he
could not have been kept in ignorance of it if it had previously been
the case. The deceased had a black shagreen pocket-book, with a
silver clasp, which he occasionally used, but the witness had never
known him give it out of his own hand, nor take a receipt in it. Had
not seen it on the morning of the 6th, nor subsequently. Could not
account for the sum found on the person of the prisoner, whose salary
was £50 per annum, and who had no private resources, except the
interest of £2000, which, he being a minor, was not in his own hands.
Deceased was fond of amassing sovereigns, and would often keep them
for a longtime in the drawer of his desk, as much as from £50 to
£100. There was none there when the desk was opened on the 6th of
July, though there had certainly been gold there two days previously.
It was kept locked. It had a small Bramah key, which his uncle wore
on his watch-chain, in his waistcoat pocket. The drawer was locked
when he saw it on the morning of the 6th.

The Doctor, who had joined his children, gave a deep respiration, and
relaxed the clenching of his hand, as this witness went down.

Then it came to the turn of Aubrey Spencer May. The long waiting,
after his nerves had been wound up, had been a severe ordeal, and his
delicacy of constitution and home breeding had rendered him