The Proceedings of the Old Bailey

 

381.   PATRICK MOLLOY (26) was indicted for wilful and corrupt perjury, alleged to have been committed before the Special Commission, in re the Times, Parnell, and others.

MR. BUCKNILL, Q. C., with MR. CHARLES MATHEWS, Prosecuted; MESSRS. GEOGHEGAN, LAWLESS and G. B. PIGGOTT Defended.

  JAMES KEMP . I am managing clerk in the employ of Messrs. Soames, Edwards and Jones, Solicitors, Lincoln's Inn Fields—they are and have been solicitors for the Times newspaper—I produce an office copy of the pleadings in an action for libel, entitled "O'Donnell against Walter and others," tried before the Lord Chief Justice in July, 1888, which resulted

in a verdict for the defendants—in the course of that action there was handed in a statement of defence, an office copy of which I produce—there was constant reference made to a number of articles published in the Times, and after that published in a pamphlet form called "Parnellism and Crime"—I produce copies of all those pamphlets—subsequently to the passing of the Special Commission Act of 1888 there was a meeting of the Commissioners on 17th September last—at that meeting the Commissioners made an order for the delivery of particulars by the Times, with regard to the accusations made and the persons accused—under that order particulars were delivered—I produce a copy of those particulars, certified by the seal of the Commission.

Cross-examined. The only capacity I am employed in is as clerk in the London office of Messrs. Soames—I have never gone to America or abroad—I have been in communication with persons in Ireland in reference to these proceedings—I have written letters to Mr. Walker, directly; he was in direct communication with Messrs. Soames—I cannot give you the date of his earliest communication with me or Messrs. Soames; I think it would be in 1888—a good many letters passed between Mr. Walker and I—I don't know whether he sent over proofs of several witnesses, that would not come under my province—during these proceedings I have been shown a number of documents by Mr. Cunningham, the secretary to the Commission—I have not seen one signed Thomas O'Connor—the names of the witnesses that Mr. Walker sent over to the Times office would not come under my knowledge.

  JOHN WALKER . I am managing clerk to Mr. Robert Beauchamp, a solicitor in Dublin, having offices at 5, Foster Place, and a private residence at 25, Fitzwilliam Square—in November last, with the sanction of my employer, I was collecting evidence to be used, if it was thought fit, before the Commission here in London—in the course of my inquiries I learnt of the existence of the prisoner, and in consequence of what I heard I put myself in communication with him; first of all I called at his father's house in York Street, Dublin; I did not see the prisoner on that occasion, I left word for him to call on me at the Hibernian Hotel; I think that was on the 20th November, Tuesday—that evening I wrote a letter to him, asking him to call on me next day at the Hibernian Hotel—I signed that letter in the name of Thompson—next day, Wednesday, the 21st, I sent a message asking him to call at twelve, but I was not able to be there at that hour—I met him at three o'clock at the Hibernian Hotel—I asked him to meet me at the same place in the evening at seven—he assented—I returned to the same place about seven and saw him—I arranged with him to go to 25, Fitzwilliam Square, the residence of Mr. Beauchamp—we went there together between seven and eight—we went into the study on the ground floor—there he showed me a book for which he was canvassing, it was some sort of directory—I looked at it for a minute or two, and then told him I did not want to see him about the book at all, that I wanted to see him with reference to the Times Commission—I think he said that he could not give me any information about it, or he did not know anything about it, some words to that effect—I then asked him if he had been a clerk in the Land League office—he said no—I asked him if he had been a Fenian—he said no, that I must be misinformed—I said that I know that ho could give me information that would be useful before the Times

Commission—he repeated that he could not, that he did not know anything about it—I repeated that I knew he could, and asked him to consider it, and meet me the next day, I think at twelve; that would be Thursday, the 22nd November—I think I saw him at the Hibernian Hotel—I then told him we could not very well have a conversation in the hotel, and I asked him to come again to Fitzwilliam Square, and he came over with me—that was I think about four o'clock, I know it was early in the evening; no, I think on this occasion it was about seven or eight—I then asked him if he had reconsidered the matter, and after some conversation he said he had—I then asked him to tell me about his connection with the Fenians—he told me how he had joined the Fenians when he was a boy of 15 or 16—before that he wanted an assurance that if he gave information he should be provided with the means of leaving the country, or something of that sort—I think also on this occasion he said that his father and mother would probably require to be provided with means to leave the country—I told him I thought there would be no difficulty about that—when that was arranged he told me how he had joined the Fenians when he was about 15 or 16 years of age, that he was introduced, I think, to the Fenian Society by James Carey, and that he was not at first formally sworn in to the society, but that he was sworn in a year or two afterwards; then he told me that he did not attend the regular meetings held in a place called Cuffe Lane—he told me he had been sworn in, I think, by Michael Fagan—he said that the Fenians were engaged in secret efforts against the Government, and in conveying firearms from one place to another—that he had never actually himself conveyed firearms, but that he handed them over to Michael Fagan—I asked him when he had joined the Invincibles—he asked me how I knew that he was an Invincible—I said he might assume that I knew all about it, or I would not have cared to see him—he told me he had joined the Invincibles in the beginning of 1881 or 1882, I cannot remember which very well, and that Tim Kelly had sworn him in, and he mentioned people whom he had met as Invincibles—he mentioned Joseph Brady, Michael Fagan, P. J. Fitzgerald, I think, and he also mentioned Patrick Egan and other names—he said he had met Egan at one meeting in the Winter Palace Gardens public-house, when the murder of Judge Lawson was discussed (at least the time and place were discussed for carrying out the murder) he said that Egan had remained during the whole of that meeting until the business was all over, and then Egan went away by a side door into Cuffe Street or Cuffe Lane—he also said that he met him at another meeting of Invincibles in a public-house in Britain Street, where the failure of the attempt to murder Judge Lawson was discussed—he told me also of another meeting of Invincibles, where the murder of Mrs. Smythe was talked of; she had been murdered, and some men from Westmeath wanted to get Mr. Smythe's address where he was staying at that time—there was a great deal of conversation at this time, but I don't recollect it very particularly—he told me that Egan was the treasurer of the Land League, or rather I asked him if he had met Egan, the treasurer of the Land League, and he said, "Yes"—he said that at that meeting Egan was wrapped up in a great coat, as if he did not want anyone there to know him—he said that he himself knew Egan personally very well, that he had met him in a sort of social way, and he mentioned two places, a restaurant called

the Ship and another place Wynne's Hotel; he told me that he himself was in the habit of going in and out of the Land League offices, but this was merely to account for his knowing Egan; he did not say that he himself was in any way connected with the Land League—he did not want any money then—I think he also mentioned the names of Dan Curley, and a man named Hanlon—I could not say definitely any others—after he had made this verbal statement it was arranged that I should not take it down in writing—this was part of the arrangement about the money; I was not in a position to give him a definite assurance in arranging about giving him means to leave the country in case he gave evidence; it was part of the arrangement that I should not take down any statement in writing; the assurance that he wanted was that means would be provided for him to leave the country—I said that I would communicate with the Times, and see whether I could give him the assurance, and I arranged with him to go to the Star and Garter Restaurant every day between one and two, and I was to go to him there, if and when I had anything to communicate; then the interview closed—I then put myself in communication with Mr. Soames in London, certain correspondence passed between us, and in consequence of that on the following Monday, the 22nd November, I went to the Star and Garter about two o'clock, and there saw the prisoner—I said, "This evening at five, at the same place, in Fitzwilliam Square"—I went there at that hour, he came there after I had arrived, and I saw him again in the study—I told him then that I was able to give him the assurance he wanted, and that I wanted to take down a statement from him in writing—he said that was all very well, but he did not know me or know my name, or that I had any authority—I asked him if he knew Mr. Beauchamp, the solicitor, who had his offices in Foster Place; he said he knew him by reputation, he did not know him personally—I then told him it was Mr. Beauchamp's house we were in, and I asked him if Mr. Beauchamp told him that I was an agent for the Times, and had authority to give him that assurance would he be satisfied—he said, "Yes"—it was arranged that he should go to Foster Place and inquire for Mr. Beauchamp, so that when he met him again in the evening in the house he should know he was Mr. Beauchamp, the solicitor—he then left the house to go to Foster Place, and I followed shortly after; I did not see him till I got into the office, I found him there with Mr. Beauchamp, he was showing him the directory—I said to Mr. Beauchamp, "It's all right, I will want you later in the evening," and I think I said to Molloy, "Meet me at eight o'clock," or something of that sort, or just simply, "Eight o'clock"—Molloy then went away; I remained with Mr. Beauchamp in the office until it closed; I had some conversation with him at that time—after that I went to Fitzwilliam Square, and Molloy came; I think I let him in, and we went into the same room, the study—Mr. Beauchamp was then in the house—I told Molloy that I had explained to Mr. Beauchamp the assurance that he wanted, and that the money involved would be about £50, in case Mr. Beauchamp would have to make it good, that he would be on his honour to do what was necessary—Molloy said that was all right—we collected from Molloy that to go away, and his father and mother to go away, it would take about £50—I then rang the bell for Mr. Beauchamp; the servant came, I met her at the door and asked her to send Mr. Beauchamp to the study—he came almost immediately, and I said this was Patrick Molloy,

who wished to state that I had authority to give him the assurance he wanted—Mr. Beauchamp said, "It is all right, Mr. Walker is an agent for the Times, and whatever he says is all right"—there was a pause for a moment or two, and I said to Molloy, "Will you make the statement to me or to Mr. Beauchamp?" but I added immediately, "I suppose you had better make it to me"—he said, "Very well"—Mr. Beauchamp then left the room, leaving me and Molloy together—Molloy then asked if there was anyone in the next room—the study communicated with the next room by folding doors—I said there was not, but he could go in and see—he went into the room and looked round, and I think cracked his fingers and thumb, and made a noise and listened—I stood at the folding doors just a little into the room—he came back—we then locked the door of the other room, fastened the folding doors, and locked the door leading into the hall—then we sat down at the desk in the study, and I took some paper from a drawer in the desk to take down his statement—he sat beside me with his arms on the desk—he was in a position to see what I wrote, as I wrote it—I began to write the name Patrick; I had written the two first letters "Pa," he said that it would not do to have his name on it, that he was committing himself to me, or something of that sort; so then we agreed to take a letter of the alphabet to stand for his name—I think I scratched out the two letters with a pen, and put the sheet aside—this (produced) is the sheet—I then took a fresh sheet, and on that commenced to take down his statement, he sitting in the same position I have described—he told me what to write, and he saw and followed every word—the statement covered three separate sheets of paper—he took the sheets one by one as I wrote them, and read them, and when it was all over he read the whole through again, and he said, "That is correct," or something of that sort—he then gave it to me—these (produced) are the three sheets. (The statement was then put in and read as follows:—"Am now twenty-six years of age. Have been a member of Fenian movement for ten or eleven years. Joined in 1877 or 1878 when between fifteen and sixteen. Was not sworn in then, was sworn in two or three years later. All who join were supposed to take an oath, I believe; but I did not take it, as I have said, until two or three years after. I was introduced to the Society by James Carey, whom I knew from a very early age. We met weekly, not at any stated place, but on the street or in some public-house, such as Fortune's, of Grafton Street, Cleary's, Grafton Street, The Winter Palace, St. Stephen's Green, and in a house in Britain Street, I think then owned by a man Connolly. We generally met on Sundays. There were, I know, regular maetings held in a house in Cuffe Lane. I never went there. I did not care to associate with many of those who were members, and I tried to keep aloof, only attending such meetings as I was called to. The ostensible objects of the Society were "The Freedom of Ireland" when I joined. I had no definite idea beyond this. Before I was very long in the movement I saw there were some things to be engaged in which meant some sacrifice, namely, engaging in secret efforts against the Government, such as conveying firearms and ammunition. I have never actually conveyed arms myself, but I have handed them over to others. I remember handing over rifles and revolvers and ammunition to Michael Fagan (since hanged as an Invincible). I was sworn in formally in or about 1881. Timothy Kelly (since hanged) swore

me in He was a schoolfellow of mine. The oath I do not perfectly remember; but it was generally to establish independence of the country, and to lose, if necessary, life in this. The Invincible organisation was started in 1882. I was invited to join by Tim Kelly. Was sworn in as an Invincible about February or March by Tim Kelly. Attended the meetings. Met there, among others, Dan Curley, Tim Kelly, Joe Brady, Tom Caffery, Joe Mullett, and Patrick Egan, the treasurer of the Land League, and P. J. Sheridan. I met Pat Egan at two or three of the meetings; one I remember at the Winter Garden Palace in St. Stephen's Green; another in a public-house in Britain Street. I think Reynolds is the name, it is No. 70, at the corner of Moore Lane and Britain Street Hospital. I remember him at other meetings, but can't just now recollect the locality. Egan generally was wrapped up in a big coat, giving me the idea he did not want to be known by any who did not know him. I knew him well. I met him several times in a sort of social way in the Ship and Wynne's Hotel in Abbey Street, and knew him well. At the meeting in the Winter Garden Palace, at which he was present, the removal of Judge Lawson was under discussion. The best time and place was discussed. The method left in the hands of those who were to do the work. Joe Brady, Michael Fagan, Tim Kelly, and Dan Curley were also present. Kavanagh was there with his car outside. Egan went out when the business was over by side door into Cuffe Street. This meeting, I think, was held in November, 1882. At the other meeting at which Egan was present in Britain Street the failure of the attempts was discussed. I remember another meeting held in the Winter Garden Palace (Egan was not present at this), Joe Brady, Dan Curley, myself and Fagan were there. Some men from near Mullingar were there. The subject under discussion was Mrs. Smyth's murder. The men from the country wanted to know Smyth's address. It was not known (that is, where he was staying at the time). I believe Pat Egan supplied the funds. He gave money to Joe Brady and Dan Curley. The latter told me this himself, and it was generally believed and accepted that funds were forthcoming from Egan. I went to America early in 1883. When I went to America I went to a situation, in which I stayed till I got sick. I was afterwards at a lot of things-peddling, canvassing, etc. Frank Byrne employed me for a little in his public-house in New York. I also called on Mr. and Mrs. Ford. They were unable to get me anything to do. They have no influence there"—The date was added subsequently—the letter A at the beginning was the letter selected—when Molloy handed the statement back to me I told him that I should take it over to London, and arrange about his being examined, and we had some general conversation about himself personally—in reading the statement, when he came to that part where he said if necessary they were to lose their life, he got very much agitated, and said something about coming to that or coming to this, meaning the giving of the statement I suppose—he was so much agitated that he could not go on, and I said, "Here's what I have written; if you cannot trust me I will take it and burn it, and all that is in it and what has passed between us will remain between us"—he said, "Go on," and then we continued—he spoke of how different people had been affected by this movement—he said some had got their thousands of money, and some had got their thousands of acres of land (he mentioned P. J. Sheridan in America),

and some had got the rope—he mentioned the number of acres of land that Sheridan had got in America; whether it was a thousand or thousands—I said that as far as the law was concerned the Commission would make that all right for him—that he had an opportunity now of getting rid of the consequences, as far as the law was concerned, referring to the certificate which the Commissioners had power to give, and that he could start again, and leave that all behind him—he simply assented to that; he did not say very much; it was not an observation that called for any reply from him—the interview then closed, after lasting close on three hours, and I arranged to meet him at the Wicklow Hotel when I came back from London—I said I should go to London with the object of giving his statement to the Times and getting a subpoena for him—he said he could not go without one—I think I was to leave a message for him at the office of the Directory, in Fleet Street, Dublin, before 12 on the following Friday, the 30th—directly Molloy left Mr. Beauchamp came into the room—I went to the door with Molloy and showed him out, and as I came back to the hall door Mr. Beauchamp was coming down stairs—we met in the hall, and we both came into the study together, and I took up the statement and showed it to him, and pointed out to him that the paper had a Government stamp upon it, and some conversation ensued between us—it could not have been more than a minute or two after Molloy left that I showed the statement to Mr. Beauchamp—the two dates that are on it were put on at the same time in London—when I was asked to put the date on which it was taken down, I made a calculation in my own mind, and I immediately remembered it was a wrong date, and I struck it out and entered it again—I think it was the 22nd, the tail of the two is like a four—that was struck out and the date was put in—on the 27th I came to London with the statement, and saw Mr. Soames—I obtained a summons for the attendance of Molloy as a witness before the Commission—I received certain instructions from Mr. Soames, and returned to Dublin on the night of Thursday, the 29th, arriving on the morning of the 30th—I went to the office of the Directory, and left a note for Molloy to call at the Wicklow Hotel—he came there—I told him I had got a summons for him—I went over to 8, Dorset Street, a gymnasium—he came there, and I gave him the summons, and asked him to arrange to go across to London that night, and I gave him £4 for his conduct-money—he said he could not go without letting his friends know about his having got the summons, and I think he said he was not sure about going, but he arranged to meet me later that afternoon at the same place—it was at the next interview that he said that he was not sure that he could go at all; he was to meet me later in the afternoon at the same place—I met him—he then said he could not go away without paying some debts that he owed up and down, meaning that he owed several debts—I told him that I could not help him in that, and that there was no reason why he should pay them; that they would not expect him to have money to pay his debts, or something of that sort—he said he had got one name, and he did not want to get another—I then asked him to tell me the amount of the debts, and to whom he owed them—he said he owed £6 to one and £5 to another; he would not say who the people were—I expressed some surprise at his owing so much money to anyone—he said they had lent it to him when he needed it—I said that I could not pay it—he said that unless he got the money to pay his debts he

could not go—I asked him if his friends knew that he had got the summons—he said, "Yes," and expected that he would not go—an appointment was then made for a third meeting on the same day—between the second and third appointment I wrote a letter, and took it with me to the third meeting—no then repeated that he could not go without his debts were paid—I told him I could not give him the money, but I handed him the letter—he read it; he tore it—I told him he had better keep it—he shook his head and said "No," and he went and put it in the fire and it was burnt—(A press copy of the letter was put in and read as follows: 30th November, 1888. Dear Sir,—I have considered your proposal that I should advance you £11 before leaving, and I have come to the determination that I ought not to do so. I am willing to give you the guarantee you require for your father and mother, if your giving evidence should lead to the necessity for their going. I think it also fair to give you a guarantee that you will be provided with means to take you wherever you want to go, because, as you say, you could no longer remain here. I will also give you a guarantee that, as this is taking you away from a present means of remuneration, living, and paying your debts, you shall get a full equivalent; and further, that you will not be dealt with in any niggardly spirit in considering these matters. Beyond that I do not think it would be honourable to go, and I am sure, upon reflection, you will agree with me. P. S.—I gave your statement to the Times solicitor, after satisfying myself I was at liberty to give you this assurance.")—I asked him to think it over again, and to meet me that evening at the same place at nine or half-past, I am not sure which—that was a fourth meeting—I returned to keep that appointment, but he did not come, and I saw him no more that day—next morning (Saturday, 1st December) I did see him; I think I sent a telegram to him—I met him at the Wicklow Hotel in Wicklow Street, and either there or in Dawson Street I asked him if he would go to London with me—he said he would not go, and in the end I asked him, either at that interview or a subsequent one on the same day, if I met him next morning (Sunday) at the mail train Westland Row Station with the money he wanted, would he fetch two envelopes and post the money to the people he owed it to there, and go on to London with me by the mail—he agreed to do that—between that time and the next morning I got the money, a £5 Bank of England note and a £5 Bank of Ireland note, and £1—I took the numbers of the notes—next morning I went to Westland Row shortly after six; the mail train leaves at seven, I think—shortly after the prisoner came alone—he produced two envelopes addressed, and I put £6 into one of them and a £5 note into the other, and we both went down to the letter-box outside the station, and he posted them—we then came back to the ticket office together, he following me—I got a ticket for myself, he went as if to get his, but turned back and said, "I don't think I can go," or something like that—I said he had bettor come—he said "No"—I urged him a little still to go, but he said "No," he would not go until he was fetched, or unless he was fetched—as I had returned to the platform in front of the prisoner I noticed two men sitting on a seat there, and when Molloy came on to the platform I observed that he caught sight of them, and I thought their eyes met—I think that was before we had posted the letters—I am not very sure whether it was or not—we both passed in front of those men, at some distance from them—beyond the

meeting of their eves I did not see anything pass between them, but they both seemed to recognise each other—I think it may have been after posting the letters, because I think at first he did not come right up to the platform, I met him on the steps, I am not quite positive; if it was after the posting, it would be as I was making my way to the ticket office—when I found he would not go I handed him a notice stopping payment of the bank notes, which I had prepared the night before—I said I would put that in the papers—he said I might—he then went away—I did not see any more of the two men—I did not come out the same way—I came to London that night, and saw Mr. Soames on Monday, the 3rd—on the 4th I swore a joint affidavit with Mr. Soames, on which a warrant was granted for the prisoner's arrest, and to bring him over to London to give evidence before the Commission—I was in Court on 7th December when he was called into the witness-box, sworn, and examined—I heard the evidence which he then gave.

  CHARLES BUTTON . I am the official shorthand-writer to the Probate and Divorce Court, and the official shorthand-writer to the Special Commission held in Probate Court No. I—on 7th December last I was engaged in taking shorthand notes of the evidence before the Commission, composed of Sir James Hannen, Sir John Charles Day, and Sir A. L. Smith—on that day the prisoner was called into the witness-box—I administered the oath to him—after he was sworn I took down in shorthand the evidence he gave—subsequently my notes were transcribed from my dictation—by order of the Commission the evidence was printed from day to day—I have compared a printed proof of the evidence given by the prisoner with my original notes—the printed proof is substantially correct, with three exceptions, where the word "book" occurs—the differences are not material—the copy affixed to the depositions is correct.

Cross-examined. These two printed reports (produced), containing the examination, cross-examination, and re-examination of Patrick Delaney, I believe, are correct—I may say that I did not take the whole of it myself; I had two assistants.

  JOHN WALKER (Cross-examined by MR. GEOGHEGAN). There are two Mr. Beauchamps, solicitors; one in Dublin and one in Limerick—the Dublin gentleman is my employer; he is in no way connected with the Times or the Times Commission—I know nothing beyond what I see in the papers, but I believe Mr. Beauchamp, of Limerick, is connected with the Commission—I first began to collect evidence for the Times early in November last or the latter end of October—I was asked to do it by a letter direct from Mr. Soames, directed to Mr. Robert Beauchamp—my salary with Mr. Beauchamp was a yearly one, and averaged between £200 and £300 a year—I was managing clerk and confidential clerk—I was never in the service of the Crown Solicitor in Ireland; I was in three solicitors' offices before Mr. Beauchamp's—none of them were Crown Solicitors when I was with them; Mr. Gibbons became so years afterwards—I am in the habit of taking evidence and taking proofs—I have seen several witnesses besides Molloy; not half a dozen; I have seen a good many persons who were probably witnesses—I think I have taken the proofs of four persons, including Molloy, and a man named O'Connor—two of those witnesses have been called before the Commission—I did not go to Limerick or Kerry; I have never taken evidence out of Dublin; I have not seen people out of Dublin; I have never been out of Dublin

to collect evidence—I should say there might have been nearly a dozen I have seen—I saw them sometimes in my business hours, sometimes not—sometimes they came to Mr. Beauchamp's office; Mr. Beauchamp left me free in the matter—in the first instance Mr. Soames's request was a very limited one, but it drifted altogether beyond my ideas and beyond Mr. Beauchamp's—at first the duty put upon me was a slight one, but it developed in a way we could not foresee—I know Mr. Houston now; I believe he is the secretary of the Irish Patriotic League; I do not know it; I only know it as anyone else knows it, by reading it in the Times, or hearing it in society; I never met him over here till I met him after I was engaged by Mr. Soames—I think that was before Molloy gave evidence—that was the first time I had seen Mr. Houston, or the first time I had any connection with him in reference to this case—I have not received any payment as payment from the Times; what I did in taking the proofs of witnesses was at the request of Mr. Soames, and I suppose Mr. Soames does not intend to take my work for nothing—it was not exactly in the expectation of a reward when Mr. Soames asked me to do what I did; I did not care whether I had money or not; I am expacting more than my money out of pocket for the service I have rendered in this case—Thomas O'Connor was one of the witnesses called before the Commission—I was in Belfast two or three years ago—I have been engaged in an action against the Freeman's Journal, the case is pending; they had been holding me up to ridicule—I saw O'Connor about the same time I saw Molloy—I did not ask O'Connor to try and tell what he knew about moonlighting and about Mr. Harrington, a Member of Parliament—I did not force him to make a statement; the declaration was made by him of his own free will—I did nothing but put it in shape—I think I should know O'Connor's handwriting if I saw it—it is not an easy thing to speak offhand to handwriting—I have a recollection of his handwriting (looking at a paper)—I can't say this is his—it is as likely not to be his as it is to be his—I am certain it is not his composition—I introduced myself to Molloy as Thompson—that was the first time I have taken the name of Thompson, or any other name—I did not tell Molloy that I had a friend a director of a railway company—Mr. Day is a clerk in the office of the Patriotic Union—he is a friend of Mr. Houston; he is not a friend of mine—I can hardly say how long I have known him—I have been for months past at the office of the Irish Royal and Patriotic Union—I went there because I knew the assistant-secretary, Mr. Cox—I never met Mr. Houston there—I did not take the guarantee from Houston in the first instance—I never took a guarantee from Mr. Houston—I understood it came from Mr. Soames—I did not tell Molloy's father and mother that I had a friend a director of the London and North-Western Railway Company—I did not tell Molloy that I would buy a number of copies of the directory if it was a good advertising medium—I think on the Sunday after Molloy would not come across to London I sent him a memorandum in pencil which was something to that effect—I then had his statement—I wrote that memorandum because I had heard that Molloy had been got hold of by the Land League, and that he was trying to get money from the Times, and I went to see Mr. Soames before I could know what was to be done—the memorandum is "Sunday, 1st December"—when I first went to Molloy I knew it was to get evidence

to establish a connection which they believed to exist—I did not know the names mentioned before the Commission—I knew the class of evidence I was to get up—I did not know the names the Times thought most material to get evidence about—I mean to say that I had not the slightest idea of the evidence Molloy was to give me—the evidence wanted was to prove the connection between the Land League and crime—I had not in my mind any person—I did not care about the names; as a fact I did not know them—I did not suggest Patrick Egan to the prisoner, I swear that, and I was surprised to hear him say so—I never suggested the name to him—he said that Egan was present, and then I said, "Is that Patrick Egan, the secretary of the Land League? n—I mentioned the name of Eugene Davis, of Paris, but not till after his statement was taken—I mentioned the name of Michael Davitt after his statement—I did not mention Mr. Parnell, or John O'Connor, or Mat Harris; no other name but Michael Davitt and Eugene Davis—we had a great deal of general conversation, and I said, "I have never heard Mr. Davitt's name in connection with anything"—I was referring to the character for honesty which Davitt has among friends and foes—I did not first hear of Davis's name from Mr. Houston; I think it was from Mr. Cox; not in connection with letters—my recollection is that I simply heard that Davis and Davitt had been in Dublin together—I had no object in mentioning Davitt's name—I knew that he was a prominent leader in the Irish party—I mentioned Davis's and Davitt's names without any object; I swear that—I did not ask Molloy if he could give any information about them—I did not mention Mr. Biggar, or any other name—I first told Molloy I was an accredited agent of the Times the evening I met him in Fitzwilliam Square—that would be 21st November, I believe, and it was next evening, the 22nd, that he first gave me the verbal statement—I took his written statement on the 26th, it was almost the same that he had told me on the 22nd—I showed that written statement to Mr. Beauchamp—the alteration in the date was made in London; I can't say the date—I think it was made in Mr. Soames's office, I am not sure; both were made at the same time, with the some pen; you will see there is a difference in the ink, one is in plain ink, and the other in copying ink; they were done at one and the same moment—when I said I would like to have more particulars as to the terms of subscription for his book, I wanted to give him the impression that I had fallen into his trap—I don't think I was trapping him except about the money; it was a deliberate trap his wanting to get the money, I have no doubt about that—I don't think it was a question of diamond cut diamond—when I wrote the letter I did not know into whose hands it might come, and I did not know the extent as to which he was in communication with other persons at the time—he mentioned to me a man named Boland, and I knew enough of Boland to think he would probably try and get Molloy to get money from me—I did not write this letter in order to entrap Molloy into a reply, I simply wanted to keep him there till I should see Mr. Soames—when he came to the part in the written statement about sacrificing life he was agitated, I don't say with fear—he was not laughing at me, I think it was because he could not reflect upon what he had gone through; if he was at all a human being he could not but be agitated by what he had passed through—I can't say when he first knew my real name—there was no attempt to

conceal my name after I explained to him who I was—I don't know whether he knew it before—he may not have known it on the 26th, but there was no attempt at concealment—I think probably he may not have known my name was Walker, and that I was in Mr. Beauchamp's office, because he said afterwards, "I do not even know your name;" he was satisfied that I was an agent for the Times—the paper I took the statement bears the Crown stamp—it is not such as was in on which use in Mr. Beauchamp's office, it is such as Government officials use, it is Government paper—Molloy told me at the second interview that Boland knew more about these things than he did—this guarantee was communicated to me, as I understood, from Mr. Soames, not from Houston; there was no communication from Houston, or from me to him—Q. What was the meaning of your swearing at the Police-court,"I communicated first with Mr. Houston as to the guarantee previously spoken of?"—A. That was not directly with me at all; that was done through Mr. Cox; I never wrote to Mr. Houston myself at all, it was not done at my dictation; Mr. Cox wrote of his own motion—I asked Molloy if he had met Egan at a meeting which he mentioned—I did not say "at a meeting of the Invincibles," not till he told me—I can explain that—that was at another meeting; I was taking down his statement that there was a meeting of Invincibles where Mrs. Smythe's murder was discussed, and I asked him if he had met Pat Egan, the treasurer of the Land League, at that meeting; that was after he had told me that he had met Egan at a meeting where Judge Lawson's murder was discussed—when I got this statement in writing I did not intend that he should sign it; I did not ask him to sign it—I got it to give to Mr. Soames—I did not reduce into writing what he told me on 22nd December, because I told him I would not do it—I told him at 25, Fitzwilliam Square that Mr. Beauchamp would become personally bound to the extent of £50—Mr. Beauchamp was in the room then; it was mentioned in Mr. Beauchamp's presence—. I have not told the jury that after that was discussed between me and Molloy Mr. Beauchamp was rung for—we had discussed it before, the sum that would be necessary, in Fitzwilliam Square on the 26th, not at the interview you are talking about, at another, later—he came there twice that day—he first came there, and then went to Foster Place—I did not describe it to the jury as all one interview—he first came about five in the afternoon, and we talked over the amount that would be necessary; then we went to Foster Place, merely to identify Mr. Beauchamp, and then in the evening I told him I would get Mr. Beauchamp to give the guarantee—the interview when I took the written statement lasted about three hours—if I was merely copying the statement it would not perhaps take more than twenty minutes—he did not dictate it fluently, we discussed it, as anyone has to do who is taking down evidence from a witness; you must always discuss evidence to get it—the reducing it into writing did not take three hours; there was of course Mr. Beauchamp's interview, the whole of it would take some time, first arranging to get Mr. Beauchamp, then his coming, and his having it—Molloy said he was committing himself to me by giving me the statement; that was his view of it—I should have asked him to sign it in the first instance if he had made no objection, of course it was no use asking him to sign it when he objected to his name being on it—I believed that he was telling

me the truth—I asked Mr. Beauchamp to explain how the Crown-stamped paper came there—I had never seen paper like that at Mr. Beauchamp's before, it is not an ordinary thing to find Government paper in a private house—of course I had seen paper like that before—I had not been at Mr. Beauchamp's house before—my object was simply to ask Mr. Beauchamp how it came in his house—it was not for the purpose of identifying the statement that Molloy had made; I had no thought of that kind in my mind—I don't know that I would apply the word "dishonest" to Molloy—it first struck me that he would go back from what he had said when he began to ask for money; I then knew he had been tampered with, that some influence was brought to bear upon him—I was not trying to trap him at the latter end—I wrote one letter to him, that was intended to deceive the persons who were influencing him—I did not write one letter at the beginning to deceive him, not when I wrote as Thompson, that was with a desire to bring about an interview; not that I wanted to see him about the directory, but that I wanted to see him—he spent some time with me during these two or three hours at the Star and Garter, and visiting me both morning and evening—when I arranged to meet him at the Star and Garter I gave him a pound to pay for his dinners every day—on the day that I gave him the subpoena I gave him a pound—he said he wanted to get some underclothing; that he could not go across without—I suppose he meant shirts—I gave him one or two pounds then—altogether I gave him £7—I don't consider that I gave him the £11—Mr. Soames gave me £5—£4 of that was his conduct-money—I did not give him anything for loss of time, or promise him any, nothing beyond what was in the letter—I did not tell him that I knew Davitt was in touch with Eugene Davis—I did not say that I knew Davitt was a Fenian, or that I knew Davis was a Fenian—I did not say that I knew Mr. Kerry—I have said before that I did not suggest that Davitt and Davis were not in any way connected with this case—it was a matter of gossip after his statement was closed—I began by asking him if he was a member of the League and then a Fenian—I was not anxious to establish a connection between the Land League and the Fenians—my asking him if he were a clerk in the Land League was a slip at the time, I confused him with some other name—I know that name, but I would rather not tell it you—I would rather not give you the names of the other two persons who were not called as witnesses, because I believe it would endanger their lives—I communicated with Houston the day after Molloy made the verbal statement, on 22nd November, it came to me from Cox—I consider that Mr. Soames must have heard of me through Houston, but I had never met Houston.

Re-examined. Molloy first mentioned the name of Patrick Egan—that was in his verbal statement—he mentioned it among others he had met at a meeting of the Invincibles—he said Egan was present at one meeting where the murder of Judge Lawson was discussed, and at a meeting where the failure was discussed—when he mentioned Egan I said, "Is that Patrick Egan, the treasurer of the Land League?" and he said, "Yes," or "The same"—it was in consequence of thinking that Molloy had been tampered with that I wrote the second letter—I wanted Mr. Soames to have an opportunity of seeing what he would do with Molloy, and I thought it probable if these persons were likely to get more money Molloy would not be found—I could not tell that he might not intend to go off with the £11, and it occurred to me that writing that letter would

suggest to those persons who were influencing him that there was more money to be got—Molloy mentioned the name of Boland—I had heard of him before—I could not identify either of the men I saw on the platform of the railway station.

  ROBERT HENRY BEAUCHAMP . I am a solicitor, practising in Dublin, at Foster Place—I have a brother in Limerick, also a solicitor—I have done no work for the Government or for the Times—Mr. Walker is my managing and confidential clerk—in consequence of a communication from Mr. Soames, in November last, I gave Mr. Walker permission to inquire into evidence for the Times—on 22nd November I recollect Mr. Walker being in my study at my private house in Fitzwilliam Square—he asked my permission to bring somebody there that evening—on Monday, 26th, the defendant came to my office just as I was signing my letters; it was after five, he came in and asked me about a book; I did not know him at the time—I said I had not time to buy books—Mr. Walker came in immediately afterwards, and said it was all right; of course, I guessed then that it was some evidence about the Times—he said something to me about his seeing me afterwards—I saw Molloy again that evening at my private house, in the study—I knew he was to be there—Mr. Walker asked me not to be out of the house—the servant came and said I was wanted, and I went down into the study—Walker asked me would I give a guarantee to Molloy that he, Walker, was engaged for the Times—I said I would, and I told Molloy he was quite safe in anything Mr. Walker promised him to do—Mr. Walker said my promise would involve me in about £50—I said I was quite willing to give my promise; I knew that it was to pay for Molloy and his family—I left the room immediately afterwards—when Molloy went, I heard the door shut, and came down immediately, and met Mr. Walker in the hall, coming from the hall door; we went into the study together, and the first thing he asked me was what was the meaning of the Government stamp on the paper which he had used—I said, "Oh, that's all right; it is easily explained"—my brother-in-law had just been engaged on relief works in the West of Ireland under the Government, and when they were finished he came to my house to stop with me, and left a few sheets of stamped paper in an open drawer in front of my table in the study—at the same time that Walker showed me the statement he showed me another sheet of paper with something on it; of course I looked for myself afterwards, and there was "Pa" on it; I saw it at the time—there were three sheets of paper with the statement—he handed them to me afterwards, and asked me to read them—I said, "No,"I did not want to read anything out of curiosity—when I came down on being called by the servant Mr. Walker turned to Molloy, and asked him whether he would like me to take the statement or himself, and because I looked surprised he said immediately afterwards to Molloy, "Perhaps it is better I should do"—Molloy said he would sooner have Mr. Walker take it, and I walked out of the room; my-brother-in-law is now in Mexico; he is an engineer.

Cross-examined. The desk in my study is on a writing-table containing notepaper and a lot of my own loose papers and brief papers—the Crown paper was on the top—Mr. Walker appeared vexed, and said, "How did this come here? it is awkward"—I quite understood that he meant something might be said about the Government being mixed up with it, there was a paper in his hand; he might have shoved this aside, and

taken other paper underneath if he had liked—I don't remember ever having seen the statement after that night; I don't remember ever seeing it again—the other piece of paper he handed to me when he walked out of the study; he asked me would I like to read it; I did not read it; I had no curiosity in the matter—I was not examined at the Police-court—this is the first time I have given evidence in this case.

The evidence given by the prisoner before the Commission was put in and read. In substance it amounted to a denial of Mr. Walker's evidence, and that he had ever made the statements attributed to him.

Saturday, April 13th. HENRY TAGAART. I live at 59, Mount Pleasant Square East, Dublin—I was for many years a client of the late Mr. William Stewart, a solicitor, of 5, St. Andrew's Street, Dublin-; he died in October, 1882—I am not in any profession; I am of independent means—I am now a client of the son of Mr. Stewart—for about, sixteen years I have been in the habit of going to the office at 5, St. Andrew's Street; that is a street off Dame Street—I saw the prisoner from time to time when he was employed in that office; I think he went to the office very young—in January, 1883, I had not read in the newspapers the examination of Robert Farrell before the Magistrate—one Monday morning, towards the middle or end of January, I remember going to Mr. Stewart's office; I could not fix the date; it was about half-past eleven to twelve—as I was going there I saw the prisoner in Grafton Street, about half a mile from the office; he spoke to me; I cannot actually fix the words he said, but he gave me to understand that he was the Molloy that was mentioned in the paper that morning, and that Farrell was after swearing against him—he did not say where he had seen what Farrell had said, but every person in Dublin at that time knew who Farrell was—I did not know Until I read the paper; I read the paper after I had seen Molloy, the next day, I think—I saw no more of Molloy until he came back from America, twelve months or more afterwards.

By the COURT. He said nothing more to me than I have stated; he did not say that he was the Molloy mentioned in the paper that morning—I knew him for five years in Mr. Stewart's office, and if I met him in the street I could speak to him—he did not go on to say what he was going to do, or why he wanted to tell me this, and I did not ask him; I did not want to know anything about him. By MR. MATHEWS. He seemed to be in a hurry, and a little nervous, that was all; I was not three seconds speaking to him—I think it was next day that I read the paper; or perhaps that evening—I could not fix more definitely what was said—I always Knew him to be a decent fellow in the office, and I never thought of his having anything to do with the Phoenix Park—he mentioned the name of Farrell, and that he was after,. swearing against him; he did not say when, it should have been the Saturday before—I read next day some of Farrell's evidence—the name of Molloy was in the paper.

Cross-examined. I was not called by the Times at Bow Street—I did not go to the Times or they to me—I mentioned the matter to Mr. Stewart, and somehow or other it came to Mr. Walker, and he sent for me, and took a statement from me—that would be about last Wednesday week, I think; the date is on the document—when I met Molloy he did not appear to be in a hurry; I have not said so.

Re-examined. I made a statement and signed it; this (produced) is it.

  PATRICK DELANEY . I am now a convict undergoing a sentence of penal servitude for life for the murder of Lord Frederick Cavendish and Mr. Burke—the first conviction was on 3rd January, 1883, for attempting to assassinate Judge Lawson—my sentence for that was 10 years—it was two or three months afterwards that I was sentenced for the Phoenix Park murders—I was first sentenced to death, and that was commuted to penal servitude for life—I was a Fenian first in 1869, when I was about 19 years of age—the object of the Fenian Brotherhood was to establish the independence of Ireland by force of arms—I became a member of the Invincible organisation at the latter end of 1881—the object of that organisation was to assassinate all the Government officials in authority in Ireland—I first made the prisoner's acquaintance in 1880—I met him at James Mullett's public-house in Dorset Street—I do not know whether Molloy was a Fenian at that time, but there was no one present at Mullett's but Fenians; it was the Anniversary of the Manchester Martyrs—James Carey was there; Thomas Brennan, then secretary to the Land League; Daniel Delaney, my brother; Daniel Curley, John Tarff, and several others—I knew Michael Fagan; he was at that meeting—there are officers in the Fenian brotherhood called Centres, Sub-centres, and B. 's—the prisoner was a Sub-centre to Michael Fagan at the latter end of 1881 or the commencement of 1882—Fagan was afterwards hanged for his participation in the Phoenix Park murders—arms were served out to Fenians by the Fenian organisation at large—generally the Sub-centres handed them over—Molloy gave me a short Snider rifle and a sword bayonet—I had a long rifle before that—James Mullett had some rifles for the American organisation; that was how they came to that Circle—there were different Circles—the Centres were duly elected from the body of men they represented—James Mullett was a Centre at one time; he was the Centre of Molloy's Circle; after him Thomas Fitzpatrick, he was before Fagan—Fagan was not Centre at the time—Molloy was Sub-centre; he was on the directory, and chairman of the Centres at Dublin; he would be duly elected to be put on the directory—I first knew Patrick Egan about 1875—I knew him to speak to—I knew Thomas Brennan about that time too—Egan was then manager of the North-East Millen Company in Dublin, and he was the recognised leader of the Fenian organisation in Dublin at that time—about 1880 I saw Egan several times; I saw him at a Land League meeting in the Rotunda about that time, I am not sure—all the prominent members of the Land League at that time were there—when I became an Invincible in 1881 there were also among the members James Carey (I knew him to be a leader of the Fenian organisation in Dublin in 1875), P. J. Sheridan, Thomas Curry, county Sligo; No. 1, Tynan, he would not tell his name, he used to go as No. 1; James Mullett, Peter Carey, brother of James Carey; Daniel Curley, he was hanged for his part in the Phoenix Park murders; Joseph Brady, he was also hanged for the Phoenix Park murders; Tim Kelly, he was hanged; Thomas Caffery, Edward McCafferty, Joseph Hanlon, Laurence Hanlon, he got penal servitude for life; Robert Farrell, William Maroney, Edward O'Brien, Thomas Doyle, James Boland, Michael O'Dwyer, a man named Duffey, I don't know his Christian name; and several others whose names I can't think of—I have met the prisoner at the meetings, I am

sure of that, because the Invincibles allow no person except Invincibles to be present at their meetings—the principal leaders of the Invincible organisation were Patrick Egan, Thomas Brannan, and P. J. Sheridan—all their funds were supplied by the Land League—I have seen money passing from Frank Byrne, the secretary of the Land League in London, to Joseph Brady; he was an Invincible—Daniel Delaney was present when the money was given, and Joseph Mullett—I do not know what money passed at that time—all the money was sent from Paris at that time for the support of the Invincible party—they got no money from any other source except the Land League—they had an oath administered to them when I joined—I had the oath administered to me by Daniel Delaney, my brother—in 1882 the Right Hon. W. E. Forster was Chief Secretary for Ireland—I attended meetings as an Invincible in relation to him; the first meeting about Mr. Forster was on Queen Street Bridge, Dublin—the object of that meeting was to assassinate the Chief Secretary; that was the first meeting I attended, there were several before that—at that meeting there were present James Carey, Daniel Curley, Joseph Brady, Timothy Kelly, Laurence Hanlon, Joseph Hanlon, Henry Rose, Patrick Molloy, I am sure he was there; William Maroney, Edward O'Brien; I don't remember any others, there might be, unknown to me—they would watch Mr. Forster every meeting; he was to be assassinated that morning in passing the Quay—the parties I have named were told off to watch him, with the object of assassination—I watched him, where he was to pass near the Quay, that was Ellis Quay; I think that would be a road he would go from the Phoenix Park to the Castle, that was the way he would have to pass—on that occasion I saw the prisoner coming from chapel with James Carey that morning, whilst I was standing on the bridge where I was posted—they were coming from Arran Quay Chapel towards the bridge—Mr. Forster did not pass that morning—he was watched again in the evening by the same party—the prisoner was there—Mr. Forster did not pass that evening; I think his carriage passed with luggage in it, but he was not in the carriage—he was watched next morning at half-past six; the prisoner was there—Mr. Forster did not come—Joseph Mullett and Michael Fagan always accompanied the prisoner on these occasions; they always went together—the Phoenix Park murders were on 6th May, 1882—after that a man named Hines was executed—he was tried in Dublin before Mr. Justice Lawson—Mr. Anderson was Crown Solicitor at that time—after Hines's trial there was a meeting of the Invincibles with the object to assassinate the jury that tried the case, and the Judge and the Crown Solicitor—at that time I had never seen Mr. Justice Lawson or Mr. Anderson—the prisoner was present at the meeting I have spoken of, in the Four Courts, Dublin—he was not present at the meeting to consider the assassination of Mr. Justice Lawson, the jury, and Mr. Anderson; it was only the executive and leaders of the Invincibles who were present—four of them were elected to carry out that deed, and then they would elect the party they would bring with them—Molloy and Boland were not at the meeting I am talking of, they were afterwards; it was Molloy that pointed out Mr. Justice Lawson; he knew him, also Mr. Anderson—he also got means to find out the addresses of the jury, their capacity of life—they could do it better than any other men because they had more time to themselves during the day; that was arranged at a meeting; I do not know

whether Boland and the prisoner were at that meeting—Frank Byrne brought the orders; No. 1, Tynan, was there before him, and said that Frank Byrne would come—I am speaking from my own knowledge; I was there—the Crown Solicitor and the Judge were to be assassinated one night, and the twelve jurymen on another night, all together—I remember going to the Courts to have a look at Mr. Justice Lawson; James Mullett, Brady, Laurence Hanlon, and Patrick Molloy were with me—the Court was sitting when we got there; we went out before the Court rose, and went to Chancery Place at the back of the Four Courts, and stood against the private gate coming out of the Four Courts for Molloy to point out Mr. Justice Lawson and Mr. Anderson—the Judge had his robes on in Court—while we were standing at the gate, the Judge and Mr. Anderson came out through the gateway; Molloy pointed and said, "This is Mr. Anderson and Judge Lawson now"—this was on Friday evening, the 9th or 10th November, 1882, I am not sure—we followed Mr. Anderson and Mr. Justice Lawson to the Law Temple, the King's Inn, Bolton Street; the prisoner was there with Mullett, Brady, and Laurence Hanlon, and myself; he was on the opposite side of the street—I and Brady followed the Judge and Mr. Anderson, and Joseph Mullett and Laurence Hanlon followed after—the Judge and Mr. Anderson went up Henrietta Street to the Temple, and Molloy and Laurence Hanlon were left there to watch them coming out; the remainder were told to return at half-past eight—we did so—on my return I saw James Mullett and McCafferty coming down on Kavanagh's car—Molloy was there and Laurence Hanlon—Molloy and Hanlon were told off to watch the way the Judge and Mr. Anderson would go from the Temple—we all retired then to Little's public-house in King Street, where the remainder of the Invincible party was—Molloy was there; he came in immediately afterwards—orders were given to be at Fitzwilliam Square at ten next morning, and Merrion Square South—the Judge was to be assassinated that morning in passing; that would be the Saturday morning about 11th November, I think; every person was told to have a six-chambered revolver with him—I had three to carry that morning, one belonging to Brady, and another belonging to James Mullett; I think they were afraid of being arrested with them on them; they gave them to me the night before to carry—I met Molloy that morning at the Queen's Quay, Brunswick Street, going there; he was the first I met—I complained to Molloy at having to carry the revolvers without having the price of a car—he said my brother had got plenty of funds for that, and he should supply me with it—I know that Molloy had a revolver; I saw the mark of it on his coat, he had a short light coat—it was one of the revolvers which James Boland brought—Molloy showed it to me; I did not see the pattern of it before that; it was a different pattern to what we had—we went to Merrion Square South, and more went to Fitz william Square and Fitzwilliam Street—Molloy showed me the revolver in a laneway as you go in to Merrion Road, I think, leading from Westland Road to Merrion Square—I went to Merrion Square, and there met the same party of the Invincibles—the Judge did not pass, or he passed some other way, and he was missed—the party then retired to a publichouse in Bagot Street, and an arrangement was come to to be in the same place at half-past four; I went there at half-past four—the prisoner was there, James Mullett and Joe Brady; I and Laurence

Hanlon were at the comer of Fitzwilliam Square; I was along with him; Molloy was at the corner of Bagot Street, and just as the Judge left his house, with four men guarding him, Kavanagh's car came down with Mullett and Brady on it from Fitzwilliam Place—Mullett said to me, "Follow on, Pat" and he went straight down to Merrion Square on the car; we passed the Judge and his four men—Mullett and Brady told Molloy the same as me, to follow on—I know that of my own personal knowledge; I heard it—the car went on to the corner of Holles Street, Merrion Square North—I followed on the Judge and the four men; two of them were walking behind him and one on each side of the street; I followed the Judge until I was arrested—the car stood at the comer of Holles Street—Molloy and the others were intended to go round Denzil Street and Great Brunswick Street, and meet the Judge in the face coming round by the college—the car went by Denzil Street, Westland Road and Great Brunswick Street to meet the Judge that way—after passing Lincoln Place I plucked one of the guards on the opposite side by the arm or elbow, and told him to mind the Judge; he took no heed of me; I was on the opposite side of the Judge then—when I got to Kildare Clubhouse I plucked him again by the arm, but he took no notice—I then crossed the street to where the Judge and the two men were behind him; there was a young man along with the Judge at this time—just as I left the street getting into the tow-path I was knocked down; I was just getting on the tow-path to tell the other two policemen behind the Judge as I was knocked down—I can't say who knocked me down—I was just tripped on my knee; I was not knocked down altogether, just tripped up on the left knee—I have been in custody ever since—at the time I was tripped up I had a six-chamber revolver on me—the other two I gave up to the persons that owned them, Mullett and Brady—the last time I saw Molloy was driving on the car the way they were to come round to meet us—I knew Robert Farrell; he turned informer—I have since heard a statement of his read from a paper in Court—it was Robert Farrell, Kavanagh and James Carey who identified me—Carey turned informer—the places where the Invincibles used to meet were Little's public-house in North King Street; the Winter Palace at the corner of Cuffe Street and Stephen's Green was a favourite house; Clarey's public-house, off Grafton Street; Ready's public-house in Britain Street, opposite the Rotunda Hospital; the Royal Oak, Park Gate Street, King's Bridge—James Mullett's public-house was in Dorset Street; it had no sign—at all these public-houses the Invincibles used to meet; there was another favourite house, Doyle's, in Great Brunswick Street, the corner of Shaw Street—there were several drill-rooms for the Fenians, except the Centres, they met in private houses by themselves—one drill-room was in Cuffe Lane; one at 39 or 49, Bolton Street; one in Peter Street, and one in Upper Bridge Street—these houses were used as drill-halls for the Fenian organisation—different circles used to have them, because the men of one circle did not know the men of another—the offices of the Land League were in Sackville Street—I have seen several of the Invincibles whose names I have mentioned go into those offices; Molloy I saw several times going in and out of them—I know the prisoner well—he was a lawyer's clerk at some place off Dame Street, and was a Sub-centre to Michael Fagan.

Cross-examined. The Royal Oak is by the Royal Barracks, on the right side going to Phoenix Park, opposite the King's Bridge—it is a public place—the jaunting-cars do not stop there going to the Strawberry-beds—it is one of the smallest houses—they met there once in a month in the bar: Mr. McGuinness is the landlord—he did not know that they met there—the Winter Palace has no private rooms—it has a very large gin palace on the right-hand side going into Harcourt Street—I do not suggest that Fentams was one of the houses—I have a good memory for faces; if I saw a man once I should know him again if I took particular notice of him—I never saw Justice Lawson to my knowledge—I have been convicted three times—I pleaded guilty to the murder of Lord F. Cavendish and Mr. Burke—I was not innocent, I was present when the transaction took place—it was not with my consent—I was taken by force there—I did not know it was going to take place—I saw it take place—I did not attempt to prevent it—I did not give information to the police about it—I was sentenced to ten years for the attempted assassination of Justice Lawson—that was against my will, too, because I said it would never take place—my third conviction was for highway robbery; I pleaded guilty to that—I never defrauded a man of a penny in my life, it was more the wild freak of a young boy than anything else—I got five years' hard work—I do not know that the wild freak was assaulting a man and stealing money from his person—I do not know what Judge sentenced me—that was on 18th June, 1870—I did not know that it was before Mr. Justice Lawson till after the assassination—I did not know the face of the Judge who sentenced me, and I did not inquire—I only saw him while he was passing sentence, if it was him—I was about two minutes in his presence—I gave evidence at Bow Street and on the Commission—P. G. Fitzgerald is not an Invincible to my knowledge—I don't know the year he was tried in Dublin—I gave evidence against him while I was undergoing my present sentence—I identified him as the Supreme Councillor of the Irish Republican Brotherhood—I mentioned that in the hearing of the Dublin jury—the Invincibles were started about the latter end of 1881, shortly before Thomas Brennan's arrest under the Coercion Act; that was the last time I saw him—I never saw him after he came out—I represented to the jury that he was leader of the Invincibles; he was one of the principal starters of it—I have not met him at the Invincible meetings—I do not know that he was arrested in 1881 and released in 1882—the Invincibles were started before I knew anything about it—I have met P. J. Sheridan at Invincible meetings, and shook hands with him and spoke to him under the garb of a Roman Catholic priest—Sheridan, of Cupper-curry, is the man I mean—I never met him or Brennan at Invincible meetings; the only man I met there was Sheridan among the leaders of it—I spoke to him coming out at the door (The Witnesses deposition before the Commission stated—"Did you speak to Sheridan at all? A. No. Q. Have you ever spoken to Sheridan? A. Never.")—I met Sheridan at the hotel in Dublin; D. Curley was present, and Captain Cafferty—I might have made a mistake before the Commission—I spoke to Sheridan at the door on a Sunday evening—when I gave evidence at the trial of Fitzgerald, before the Commission and at Bow Street, I was in custody under the same rules as any other prisoner—I was in Court yesterday with the witnesses in charge of two warders—I was first asked

to give evidence before the Commission five days before Christmas, and I was examined about the middle of January, on Wednesday and Thursday—I came from Maryborough Convict Prison; that is the invalid prison in Ireland—a man named Shannon came and saw me unexpectedly; I had never seen him before—the governor asked me if I had any objection to see him, a visitor had come to see me—I said, "No"—he told me he was a solicitor before he took my statement, but did not tell me his name till the end—I am not sure whether he said he was a Crown solicitor—he showed me a letter, but I did not read it or look at the signature or the writing, I did not think it necessary—he did not tell me what it was about—he opened it and said, did not I make a written statement in 1882 or 1883 in my own writing—I said, "Yes"—he said, would I corroborate that statement now, and I said, "Yes"—he brought it as an introduction, as far as my opinion goes—I do not remember reading it; he commenced to read it, and I could see it was like that, but I never read it; I had it in my hand and handed it back, and I said it was not required—it was open, not in an envelope—I cannot say whether it was in pencil or ink—I did not look at the writing—I cannot say whether that was before or after he told me he was a solicitor—the money paid by Frank Byrne was in notes and gold, at 49, Conbasson Street, a vocal lodge—that is a one-storey house, three apartments—there is a blank wall on one side and adjoining houses on the other, and a garden in front—you go from one room into the middle room or bedroom, and then into a third, the kitchen—this meeting took place in the front room—I saw Frank Byrne take the money out of his pocket from a purse—he had it on the table before him and gave it to Jas. Brady—saw him coming in a car to the house—I only saw Byrne give money once, that was at the second meeting; I saw no money at the first meeting—it might be a week after the first meeting, I cannot give you the date—I was placed at the glass door to guard it at both meetings—there were two meetings, Frank Byrne was there twice; I think there was money on the table, but I did not see him give it—I think I mentioned to the Commission that I saw him take the purse out of his pocket, but I cannot say—I mentioned it to Mr. Shannon distinctly—I read my statement to Mr. Shannon myself, I cannot say whether that was in it—I took an oath upon it, he handed me the book—I mentioned in my information that I saw Byrne take money out of his pocket—Boland mentioned me as an Invincible, working on the extreme course—there were three plots, one to assassinate Mr. Forster, another Justice Lawson, and the murder in Phoenix Park—I did not know Boland till the middle of the summer of 1882—he was not mixed up in the attempt to assassinate Mr. Forster to my knowledge, I did not know him then—Dublin was a proscribed district in 1882—I do not know whether it was from 1880—I had a long rifle—a short rifle with a sword bayonet was given me, a military rifle—he brought it to me at a church in Dublin at the top of the Rotunda, in the open air—it was dark, about 8. 30 p. m.—I don't know where he brought it from—I had a Snider rifle at my own place—the agreement for me to give the long rifle for the short one was made with Michael Fagan and carried out—the Sub-centre had charge of the arms—there was one Centre to every Circle—in every Circle of 40 men there would be about four B. 's, and the Centre was the authority over them—if the Centre was away in the country the Sub

centre would take his place—he was a man in authority, and had charge of the arms and ammunition; his post was next to the Centre—the Fenians never knew each other by any sign; a man might be a member of one Circle and meet a member of another Circle, and there was nothing to show to what he belonged—I heard that the Invincibles had a sign, but I never saw it—I spoke before the Commission of my arrest on November 7th; that is a mistake, it was the 11th—I found out next day by looking at an almanack for 1882 that I was wrong—I was in Mr. Soames' office the day after giving my evidence, two warders in plain clothes took me there; I was there four or five hours sitting in a room with them, and I saw the old almanack under my feet in a little parcel of paper—one of those warders brought me from Ireland—there were other almanacks round the wall of the office—a photo on the almanack drew my attention, and I picked it up, and saw that I had made a mistake in the date—I did not tell the warders—about half of it was torn, the latter half said that November 11th fell on a Saturday, and I was under the impression that it was the 7th—I did not see Mr. Walker there nor Mr. Soames that day—I saw Mr. Kemp every time I went there, which was three or four times, before I gave my evidence, and on two occasions I was in a room by myself—it appears that an appointment was made for me to be detained three or four days, thinking I should be wanted in the Commission Court again; I heard the application made—I saw Egan to speak to about the spring or summer of 1880—that was not at a Fenian meeting, nor was it at the Rotunda—it was not a public meeting, it was a kind of Corn Exchange on the quay—I was at a meeting at the Rotunda, but I have no idea of the date; to a great extent that was a conspirators' meeting—the Rotunda will hold three or four thousand; no ticket was required at the door from me—I dare say there were 2,000 persons in the hall, and to a great extent they were conspirators—there were some gentlemen of position on the platform, and Egan was one—I next saw Egan at the commencement of the summer of 1880, he stopped me and spoke to me—his brother-in-law, O'Rourke, was with him—I have shaken hands with Egan—it was by accident that I met him in 1880; the conversation was about the meeting in the Rotunda; it may have been about a month before, it was not a year—I cannot say whether it was two months—the conversation was about a row which took place—he did not say that it was got up for it, he mentioned that it was against his wish, because the Fenian organisation and the Land League movement had one and the same object—I assented to that—Mr. O'Rourke said nothing, he walked on—I did not speak to him about the Fenians breaking up the meeting—he said he thought the leaders in Dublin knew the nature of the Land League; one was to organise the country and the other was to supply arms for it—that was after the meeting; it was in the same year as the meeting in the Rotunda—the conversation made an impression on me, especially coming from Egan—I mentioned distinctly in the Commission that I may have seen Egan and had conversations with him—I met him outside the Corn Exchange some time after the meeting at the Rotunda—I did not mention before the Commission about having one and the same object, because it was put in my mind to-day—I was not asked about it to my knowledge in cross-examination by Sir Charles Russell—it was in my mind very often—I don't think I

mentioned to Mr. Shannon that the object of the Land League and the Fenian movement was the same—I am not sure whether I mentioned it to Sir James Ingham at Bow Street, a man in my position in prison has something else to think of; the more questions are asked the more it is revived in my mind—it occurred to me, several times it occurred to me, to-day, on your cross-examination, and before, but I have not mentioned it up to the present time—I saw Egan shortly before he went to Paris, and bid him the time of day—I think I identified five letters of Egan's before the Commission which I had seen before, James Carey had shown them to me and I read them—I do not remember the whole of the contents—it was at the end of 1882, it might be September—I think there were three from Paris—I remember one undertaking to pay £200 sterling—that was Egan's, he sent that to Mullett—this is the letter; I swear James Carey gave that to me in 1882 in Hines' publichouse—Carey showed me the letter: "March 11, 1882, Dear Sir,—I understand you cannot act as directed unless I forward you money by Monday next; here is £50. Yours truly, Patrick Egan;" and at the end of 1882, October or September, he had the bundle in his hand, and he showed that—I identify that as Egan's writing—I swear that letter was in existence in 1882, I saw it—it offers £50; that was in it—the letter said that I might speak with confidence to Mr. Shannon; that was the nature of the letter, I did not hear it read, but I guessed so; I knew he would not come to prison to visit me unless he was a person who could be depended on—I knew he was a solicitor, because he said so—I knew he was not solicitor to the Land League—I declined to see anybody in prison unless he was a Government official, and I thought he was one—I recollect Mr. Michael Davitt asking me that question before the Commission—Mr. Shannon did not state to me that he was a Government solicitor, but that was the impression left on my mind from what he told me—I believed him to be a Government official from what he told me, and I made a statement, and he swore me—I saw Byrne give money to Joe Brady on the night that he came; there were three at the table, Joe Brady, Delaney, and Mullett; that was the occasion when he took the purse out of his pocket, the second occasion I think—on the first occasion Peter Carey and the same three were present—I saw the money given on the second occasion—Brady never gave money in my presence—Sheridan never gave money—I have never stated that Byrne gave Carey money in my presence; I really mean to adhere to that—James Carey was in prison at the time Frank Byrne came to Dublin—James Carey was a stonemason; it was Peter Carey that Frank Byrne gave money to—I never stated that I saw Frank Byrne give James Carey money, because he was in prison—I only saw him give money once—I never saw him give money to James Carey—I am giving my information more from love of justice than anything else.

Re-examined. I was at two meetings at which Frank Byrne was; money passed I think at the second meeting, but not at the first; the first was at 49, Conbasson Street, the vocal lodge—I was placed as sentry there to let no one pass—it was an Invincible meeting—I was standing close to where he got off the car, and at the second meeting I was standing at the back of the house—there was a glass door between us, and I saw through it—I have seen Boland with six-chambered revolvers, they came from some part of England; he was sent specially from Dublin

for them as an Invincible, in the summer of 1882, shortly after the visit Frank Byrne paid—Boland and Molloy were known personally, they belonged to the same Fenian organisation—after I gave evidence Mr. Road applied that I should be detained a few days to be recalled if necessary, and that Mr. John O'Connor desired to be confronted with me, and I was brought down to Mr. Soames' chambers to wait to see if I was wanted again, and I think it was while I was waiting there that I found I had made a mistake in the date of the Saturday—there were two O'Connors—I was not recalled—I saw Egan write several times in 1874 and 1877 at the Mechanics' Institution, sending notes to some of the delegates of the Amnesty Association—I saw Sheridan in the disguise of a Roman Catholic priest several times in Dublin in 1881 and 1882, but never spoke to him—I was told not, because it would rouse suspicion—he was one of the recognised leaders of the Invincible Association, and previous to that he was one of the Supreme Council of the Fenian organisation—that was previous to the Land League—I made a statement in 1883 in my own writing to Surgeon Carty, J. P.—that is the gentleman (pointing to him), he was the doctor of the gaol and a resident Magistrate—I saw the letters in Carey's hand, with regard to which I have spoken to-day, this and others—five of them are in Egan's writing, to the best of my belief.

Monday, April 15th.

  JOHN MALLAN . I am Chief Superintendent of the Dublin Metropolitan Police—in May, 1882, at the time of the Phoenix Park murders, I was Superintendent of the detective department in Dublin—I had charge of the investigation of the Phoenix Park murders and other crimes committed there—in January, 1883, I heard Robert Farrell give evidence; he was one of the Invincibles who became an approver—on Saturday, 20th January, he was examined before Mr. Keys, the divisional Magistrate—at that time the following prisoners were in custody in the Court, Joseph Brady, Henry Rose, Thomas Martin, Timothy Kelly, Joseph Hanton, Laurence Hanlon, Peter Doyle, Edward McCafferty, William Moroney, John Dwyer, Daniel Delaney, Joseph Mullett, Peter Carey, Daniel Curley, Patrick Whelan, George Smith, Edward O'Brien, and Michael Fagan—: those persons were then under charge for conspiracy to murder certain Government officials in Ireland, and others—that was a month or six weeks after the attempt on Mr. Justice Lawson, Mr. Forster, the Phoenix Park murders, and Mr. Field, one of the jury who tried Hines—I heard Farrell's evidence at that time; I did not know Patrick Molloy, except by repute—after Farrell had given his evidence, I directed two officers to inquire for and arrest Molloy, for conspiracy to murder—I have the warrant here; it was issued by J. R. Curran (It was put in and read)—the officers entrusted with that warrant were Sergeant Wilson and Detective Gibling—Molloy was not arrested under that warrant—I knew him by sight before that, in October or November, 1884, that was the time ho returned; I don't know where he was; he was out of Dublin; he returned to Dublin in October, 1884—I did not arrest him under that warrant when he returned; he has not been arrested on it.

Cross-examined. I have been Superintendent of Police in Dublin fifteen years; I am still a Superintendent, but not in the detective department—I cannot tell you how many of the Invincibles who were tried in the Dublin Commission Court are still living; there are more than Patrick

Molloy confined in prison throughout Ireland and England—I think five were hanged for the Phoenix Park murders: Fagan, Joe Brady, Tim Kelly, McCafferty, and Dan Curley and Thos. Caffery; five have been executed, and others are serving terms of penal servitude, except Thos. Doyle, he has finished his sentence, and James Carey who was shot—the Dublin police are in communication with the English police when necessary—I have not been to Liverpool since these proceedings against Molloy, nor have any police officers to my knowledge—I heard Molloy examined before the Commission—I heard his statement that he went to America in his own name, in the Pennsylvania, and that Liverpool was the port of departure—since he came back he has been walking about openly in the streets of Dublin, passing his time as he could and in his own name—I had not charge of the warrant then; I left that department in 1883—Thomas Brannan was arrested under Mr. Forster's Act as a suspected person in May, 1881; I arrested him—I don't know the date of his release—the Invincible Conspiracy was hatched in October or November, 1881.

  PATRICK WILSON . I am an officer of the detective department in Dublin—in January, 1883, I received a warrant for the apprehension of the prisoner—he was then living with his father in Peter Street, Dublin—I went there on or about 20th January, I think it was on a Saturday—I did not find him there—on the Sunday I still kept a look-out for him, and on the Monday morning I went to Mr. Stewart's office where he was employed—I there saw Mr. Stewart; I did not find the prisoner—I assisted Mr. Stewart in opening a desk there; we forced it open by firetongs—I went two or three times to the house of the prisoner's parents with another officer, Gibling, but did not find the prisoner—I next saw him, I believe, in October, 1884, in Dublin.

Cross-examined. There are a good many of the name of Patrick Molloy in Dublin.

  LUKE GIBLING . I am a member of the detective department in Dublin—in January, 1883, I accompanied the last witness to the prisoner's house on more than one occasion, but could not find him—I searched for him elsewhere in Dublin, but did not succeed—I was in the office of Mr. Stewart on one occasion when a desk, pointed out as the prisoner's, was opened—I next saw the prisoner at the latter end of 1884; I am not certain as to the month.

  WILLIAM STEWART . I am a solicitor, practising in Dublin, at 5, St. Andrew Street—my father was in practice there before me—in the year 1882 I was constantly at the office—my father died in October that year—I was admitted in about December, 1882, and then took over the practice during 1882, and before that the prisoner was employed in the office—he was employed there about five years, as well as I can recollect—he was first of all an office boy, and afterwards got on the staff of the office as a clerk—I did not see him at the office on a Monday in January, 1883; I believe he came; I don't think I saw him on the Saturday—I last saw him at the office, I should say, about the previous Thursday or Friday—he did not give me any notice of his intention to leave—I did not see him on the Monday; I heard he had been in the office; I never saw him after—I remember the police coming when a desk was forced open; that was done with my sanction—Mr. Walsh had made a communication to me about the prisoner—I next saw the prisoner about a year afterwards, in

Dublin, I could not tell the date—I read in the newspapers the evidence given by Robert Farrell before the Magistrate, in which the name of Molloy appeared—at that time I had a clerk named Martin; he is now dead—I had a number of books kept in the office, amongst others a day-book and a cash-book; the day-book would not show the attendance of the clerks, only by their handwriting appearing—this (produced) is the day-book, the whole of the entries on 10th and 11th November are in Molloy's writing—there is a note showing that Walsh posted the letters on the 10th, that is in Molloy's writing, and also on the 11th, that Walsh posted them; they would generally be posted before six in the evening—the entries were usually made on the same day, they might be made the day after—if Molloy was out during the day, and anybody called, the name would generally be put on a slip of paper by whoever was there, and he would enter it in the book when he came in; he might do it on a subsequent day—it was the habit to pay the wages on Saturdays—Molloy's wages were paid on Saturday—the book was kept in Walsh's writing—the entry on the 18th, 1883, is Walsh's, also the entry on the 20th.

Cross-examined. The entry in the day-book on 1st November is "posted by Walsh;" also on the 2nd—that is Molloy's writing—it was unusual for Walsh to post the letters—I have been in Dublin all my life, and in practice from December, 1882—the police called on me more than once after Molloy's return from America—my books and papers were not at their service; it would depend upon what they wanted to see—I attend here on subpœna—Mr. Walker came to my office I suppose three or four times—I cannot give the date of his earliest visit—I should say it was somewhere near Christmas, somewhere previous to the time that Molloy was first brought up at Bow Street—he saw me after that, not before—I could not tell when I first showed my books to him—he has seen my books, it may be three times—I could not swear whether it was before or after Molloy was committed for trial, but I would say it was after—I was not examined at Bow Street; my books were there, but were not produced—Mr. Walker may have seen them before Molloy was committed for trial—I had the books myself at Bow Street—I was subpœnaed there—I have been subpœnaed three times, but was not called—I am not sure of the wages Molloy began with; he became clerk, and his wages were raised—I was satisfied with him in the office—as far as I knew he was an honest, respectable young fellow.

  THOMAS WALSH . I am a book-keeper and accountant, at present in the employment of Messrs. Egan, of Tullamore, King's County; from 1880 to 1886 I was employed by Mr. Stewart, first by Mr. Stewart, sen., afterwards by Mr. Stewart, jun.—the prisoner was employed there from the time of my assuming duties up to 1883; I can't well remember up to what date 1883, but it was some time in the early part, in January, I think—I think he was last at the office on a Monday—at that time I had read in the Dublin newspapers of some proceedings that were going on before the Magistrates—I read the evidence given by Robert Farrell on Saturday night when I went home—I saw several names mentioned—James Mullett, a publican with whom we had had some transaction previously, also the name of Molloy, and various others—next day, Sunday, I went and saw Mr. Stewart, and had some conversation with him—I got to the office next morning about eleven—I saw Molloy there

when I got there, as I thought, in the ordinary course, tying up letters or papers—they were on a seat before him—there was nothing remarkable, more than any other ordinary day, of his doing a similar act—he had a desk there—I did not see him take anything from the desk—it was between him and the seat on which he set his letters or papers—I was spoken to first by Martin, the other clerk, who had been in the office some time; he remarked about the name of Molloy—Molloy was there and heard it—Martin said it was a bad case about Molloy in the papers, and if it was Pat it was a bad case; I said it was, and Pat remarked there were several other Molloy in the world besides him—he went outside the desk, and went away in the ordinary way, as I thought, as his habitude was to go his rounds in the morning to take deeds to the Stamp Office and have them registered—I don't remember whether he took any deeds away that morning—I cannot say what papers he took, they were tied; he did not go away immediately after the remark about Molloy, perhaps in three, four, or five minutes—he returned some year and a half after, some time in 1884—he had not given me any notice of his intention to leave—Mr. Stewart came to the office that day after Molloy had left, about twelve or half-past eleven—I don't know whether I made any communication to him; I may have spoken to him; I forget; in the ordinary course I should about matters pertaining to the business—I remember the police coming a day or two afterwards and examining the desk, which was broken open—the entries in this cashbook on 11th November, 1882, are in my writing—it was my habit to enter in this book the payments I made; not immediately, I made them afterwards; I first made out a list of salaries—the entry of 11th November, 1882, in the cash-book would show the wages paid by myself that day—Molloy's wages were 15s. a week at that time—I find by this entry that he was not paid that week; his wages are not carried out in the cash column; he did not receive them, otherwise he would have signed for it; on 18th November, 1882, he received two weeks' wages; he has signed as having received it—on 1st January, 1883, he was paid his wages and signed for it; also on 27th January.

Cross-examined. I was examined on the part of the Times at the Police-court—these books were not shown to me there—I was not asked about the conversation in the office, the entries in the books, or the payments on the dates I have mentioned—about 11th November, 1882, I remember Molloy saying he was in trouble about a young lady who had gone to America, and he said if he had the means he would go after her; I can't remember the date distinctly—he used to have a red cloth tied about his throat—I know a trial was going on in Court, and he was very bad over at the Court before Judge Lynch—I don't know that he had to be taken out of bed to attend there, but he was very bad—Mullett was a client of Mr. Stewart's—I never knew him till I saw him in the office about an assignment; I never went to his public-house—when Molloy came back in 1884 he came to the office; I believe I shook hands with him; I saw him frequently since—I think Mr. Walker first took my proof—I may mention that I made no suggestion, but Mr. Walker told me that Mr. Stewart could give the evidence I could give; I said, "What is it?" and then he recounted a few matters, and that was how I came here.

By the COURT. Our hours on a Saturday were till two; we close at two, not very regularly, it might be a few minutes before or half an hour

after—wages were generally paid close on two—no register was kept of the attendance of the clerks—I was supposed to write out a slip every Saturday previous to their being paid—a clerk might be away the greater portion of a day without notice being taken of it; he would have to present himself morning and evening, but the business of the office necessitates their being absent—he might be away a great part of the day on business of his own without any notice being taken of it—it very often happened that a clerk did not draw his wages on a Saturday, and he would take it on the Monday morning—it was the habitude of clerks to have cash in hand, and to pay themselves, and account for the cash on Monday morning or during the subsequent week.

  THOMAS DOYLE . I am a member of the detective department of the Dublin Metropolitan Police—I know the prisoner—I first knew him some time in 1885 or 1886—I saw him on 25th November at Glasnevin Cemetery in company with a number of young men, James Boland and others—it was the anniversary of the Manchester execution, celebrated in Dublin on that day—on 19th December last I saw him again at North Wall, Dublin, where the Holy head boats arrive—he arrived by boat—there were people there when he arrived, James Boland, John Murray, and about thirty others—when Molloy arrived on the platform they lifted him up in their arms and cheered him, and carried him some distance towards the street to Tower's public-house on North Wall Quay.

Cross-examined. I have been a detective in Dublin since 1881—as a rule, a great number of people go to Glasnevin Cemetery; I would not say half Dublin, I say about 2,000 visited there last year; the prisoner was one among them—I have heard he is about twenty-six years old—I think the Manchester execution was in 1867—I think the young men who met him at North Wall on 19th December belonged to an athletic association.

Re-examined. I believe Boland was one of the athletic association.

This being the case for the prosecution, MR. GEOGHEGAN called attention to the various Counts of the indictment, and contended that as to most of them they were not supported by the evidence, that as to the written statement produced by Mr. Walker, it was not clearly shown to be in exact accordance with what the prisoner was alleged to have made to him; and with regard to Delaney, there was not sufficient corroboration of his evidence for the Jury to act upon it. After hearing MR. BUCKNILL and MR. MATHEWS in support of the indictment, MR. JUSTICE CAVE was of opinion that, although some of the Counts could not be sustained, there was evidence to go to the Jury upon others.

GUILTY — Six Months' Hard Labour.