He carried his handsome head high; it was proudly set on a firm, graceful neck, and covered with clusters of dark hair. He would have looked in his place near the throne of a queen, or, on the back of a war horse, leading a forlorn hope; but no one could understand his being prisoner in a dock. Mr. Kent looked at him, wondering with what he was charged. Surely, with that noble face and gentlemanly bearing, he had never been guilty of a common assault. Magistrate as he was, Mr. Kent listened to the recital of the charge, with some curiosity.
Jules St. Croix, Count of the French Empire, charged the prisoner at the bar with having broken into his rooms for the purpose of robbery. He had been discovered in the count's drawing-room, where he had forced open an ivory casket and stolen the contents, which were an ancient and valuable gold watch and a gold ring, also of considerable value. At the moment that the count, followed by his servant, entered the room, the prisoner had these articles in his hand. He dropped them immediately, but the count, hastily calling for the police, gave him in charge.
There was a smell of burned paper in the room and it was nearly eleven at night.
The magistrate asked if the prisoner had made any resistance. Policeman C. No. 14, answered, "No, he gave in at once; and came straight away."
Mr. Kent asked again: "Was there anything in the casket beside the jewelry?"
It seemed to be a very insignificant question, but the prisoner and the count looked steadfastly at each other and both answered: "No."
There were two witnesses. Robert Bolton, the count's servant, and C. No. 14, the policeman. The evidence of the servant was taken first. He said that the prisoner had called several times to see his master, always coming when the count was from home; that he had, before, made one or two efforts to get into the count's room, but that he, the servant, had always refused him permission.
On this evening the count went out early, and Robert Bolton having some errands to do, followed his master. About ten o'clock the prisoner called at the house, No. 24 Cambridge Terrace, and asked to speak to Count St. Croix. The landlady of the house told him the count was from home; then the prisoner said: