THE verdict came quickly in the end. All morning people had been discussing the prospect of a retrial - it had been rumoured that Mr Reynolds would accept a majority as low as 8-3. No one thought the jury would bring in a majority verdict of 10-1.
For the first time, the judge did not ask the jury to return before lunch if they did not have a verdict but to come to court at 2 p.m.
There was an air of resignation in Court 13 as Albert Reynolds and his family, Alan Ruddock and his wife, journalists and lawyers all assembled at 2 p.m. We had all been there so many times before to hear the judge exhort the jury.
Suddenly the brown phone rang on the desk of the court associate: (registrar). He picked it up, listened and said "Ooh!", before rushing out of the court. A sudden frisson of excitement ran around the room.
The jury came in at 2.05 p.m. The foreman was carrying a magazine. Inside it was the sheet of paper on which he had written the jury's replies to the questions posed by the judge last week.
He stood up and when the judge asked: "Have you reached a verdict on which no less than 10 of your are agreed?", he answered "Yes".
Everyone in court knew that the first question was whether the allegations published by the Sunday Times, that Albert Reynolds had lied, were true.
When the foreman replied "No" to this question, Mr Reynolds nodded his head. But Alan Ruddock's wife, Jackie, stiffened, and prepared for the rest of the questions. As the other answers were read out - No, Alan Ruddock had not acted maliciously nor had John Witherow - Mr Ruddock threw his pen to the table with relief, and Jackie gasped and then broke down.
The crucial question now was damages. If Mr Reynolds was awarded less than £5,005 he would have to pay the huge costs of the 5 1/2 weeks of the trial.
The foreman's voice was very firm when he answered "zero costs" to the fourth question - how much damages they awarded the plaintiff. Mr Price stood up. Did they mean zero pounds and zero pence? They did, replied the foreman.
Mr Reynolds rested his face on his hand. His daughter, Leonie, flushed and exchanged a glance with her husband, Mr Kevin Crilly. But there were no tears.
The answer to the fifth question - whether Dick Spring had been truthfully reported - seemed irrelevant. The jury were asked to stay in their room in case there were further questions.
The Reynolds family rushed to phone their mother, Kathleen, but she had already heard the verdict from RTE. She was delighted with the exoneration of her husband.
But there was no doubt where the triumph lay.
"A bloody good verdict," said Mr James Price as soon as the judge and the jury had left the court. His solicitor, Ms Catherine Rimmell, was smiling broadly. "I am relieved, especially after such an extraordinary trial."
Outside the court, Alan Ruddock lay slumped on a bench, his eyes red with strain and emotion. Mr Reynolds was in a huddle with his family and his legal team. Lord Williams had already told Mr Justice French that they would be reviewing the position.
The jury were recalled for the last time and asked to clarify their answer to the question of damages. They had said "zero costs" but they had been asked about damages. What had they meant? "Zero damages," replied the foreman.
The jury were relaxed and smiling for the first time during the trial. The judge stood up, formally dismissed them, bowed to the jury and to the court, and left. It was finally over at 3.02 p.m.
Outside the court, Albert Reynolds was ready to talk to the press and singled out for attention the Irish journalists who had been there from the beginning of the trial.
HE GAVE no hint of feeling the sudden loss of a possible million pounds. He was smiling, dignified, stoical and clearly determined to carry on the battle. He had prepared a short statement and memorised it in minutes. He even tried to find a few words in Irish to explain how he felt to Teilifis na Gaeilge.
Asked on his way out of the court about the £5,005 the Sunday Times had lodged in court, he said curtly: "That's an insult."
Alan Ruddock had gathered his thoughts. It was a very intelligent verdict, he said, adding that he was sorry for Albert Reynolds. "We've both been through a rough five weeks."
Asked if he and his wife were going to celebrate, he said they couldn't right away. Habitat was due to deliver a sofa to his London flat in an hour and he had to be there.
Outside the court, Albert Reynolds's voice was firm as he addressed the assembled media, welcoming the fact that he had been found not to be a liar. He thanked his wife, family and legal team.
"Grace under fire," muttered one journalist admiringly.
However, the disappointment was palpable among some who had attended court regularly to support Mr Reynolds. Ms Maureen Wellman knew the Reynolds family well and Kathleen had been her bridesmaid. "I was not happy with the way Lord Williams ran the case," she said. "I sent a little note to Albert about that."
Ms Patricia Conroy was blunter. "They asked for a jury to tell them the difference between a fib and a lie. This country has gone so far they don't know the difference between truth and lies."