Recollections of a Policeman

by William Russell

  Part III.

  X. Y. Z.

  The following advertisement appeared in several of the London journalsin the year 1832:--"If Owen Lloyd, a native of Wales, and who, it isbelieved, resided for many years in London as clerk in a largemercantile establishment, will forward his present address to X. Y. Z.,Post-Office, St. Martin's-le-Grand, to be left till called for, he willhear of something greatly to his advantage."

  My attention had been attracted to this notice by its very frequentappearance in the journal which I was chiefly in the habit of reading,and, from professional habits of thinking, I had set it down in my ownmind as a _trap_ for some offender against the principles of _meum_ and_tuum_, whose presence in a criminal court was very earnestly desired. Iwas confirmed in this conjecture by observing that, in despair of OwenLloyd's voluntary disclosure of his retreat, a reward of fifty guineas,payable by a respectable solicitor of Lothbury, was ultimately offeredto any person who would furnish X. Y. Z. with the missing man's address."An old bird," I mentally exclaimed on perusing this paragraph, "and notto be caught with chaff; that is evident." Still more to excite mycuriosity, and at the same time bring the matter within the scope of myown particular functions, I found, on taking up the "Police Gazette," areward of thirty guineas offered for the _apprehension_ of Owen Lloyd,whose person and manners were minutely described. "The pursuit growshot," thought I, throwing down the paper, and hastening to attend asummons just brought me from the superintendent; "and if Owen Lloyd isstill within the four seas, his chance of escape seems but a poor one."

  On waiting on the superintendent, I was directed to put myself inimmediate personal communication with a Mr. Smith, the head of aneminent wholesale house in the City.

  "In the City!"

  "Yes; but your business with Mr. Smith is relative to the extensiverobbery at his West-end residence a week or two ago. The necessarywarrants for the apprehension of the suspected parties have been, Iunderstand, obtained, and on your return will, together with somenecessary memoranda, be placed in your hands."

  I at once proceeded to my destination, and on my arrival, wasimmediately ushered into a dingy back-room, where I was desired to waittill Mr. Smith, who was just then busily engaged, could speak to me.Casting my eyes over a table, near which the clerk had placed me achair, I perceived a newspaper and the "Police Gazette," in both ofwhich the advertisements for the discovery of Owen Lloyd were stronglyunderlined. "Oh, ho," thought I; "Mr. Smith, then, is the X. Y. Z. whois so extremely anxious to renew his acquaintance with Mr. Owen Lloyd;and I am the honored individual selected to bring about the desiredinterview. Well, it is in my new vocation--one which can scarcely bedispensed with, it seems, in this busy scheming life of ours."

  Mr. Smith did not keep me waiting long. He seemed a hard, shrewd,business man, whose still wiry frame, brisk, active gait and manner, andclear, decisive eye, indicated--though the snows of more than sixtywinters had passed over his head--a yet vigorous life, of which themorning and the noon had been spent in the successful pursuit of wealthand its accompaniment--social consideration and influence.

  "You have, I suppose, read the advertisements marked on these papers?"

  "I have, and of course conclude that you, sir, are X. Y. Z."

  "Of course, conclusions," rejoined Mr. Smith with a quite perceptiblesneer, "are usually very silly ones: in this instance especially so. Myname, you ought to be aware, is Smith: X. Y. Z., whoever he may be, Iexpect in a few minutes. In just seventeen minutes," added the exact manof business; "for I, by letter, appointed him to meet me here at oneo'clock precisely. My motive in seeking an interview with him, it isproper I should tell you, is the probability that he, like myself, is asufferer by Owen Lloyd, and may not therefore object to defray a fairshare of the cost likely to be incurred in unkenneling the delinquent,and prosecuting him to conviction; or, which would be far better, he maybe in possession of information that will enable us to obtain completelythe clue I already almost grasp. But we must be cautious: X. Y. Z. _may_be a relative or friend of Lloyd's, and in that case, to possess him ofour plans would answer no purpose but to afford him an opportunity ofbaffling them. Thus much premised, I had better at once proceed to readover to you a few particulars I have jotted down, which, you willperceive, throw light and color over the suspicions I have been withinthese few days compelled to entertain. You are doubtless acquainted withthe full particulars of the robbery at my residence, Brook Street, lastThursday fortnight?"

  "Yes; especially the report of the officers, that the crime must havebeen committed by persons familiar with the premises and the generalhabits of the family."

  "Precisely. Now, have you your memorandum-book ready?"

  "Quite so."

  "You had better write with ink," said Mr. Smith, pushing an inkstand andpens towards me. "Important memoranda should never, where there is apossibility of avoiding it, be written in pencil. Friction, thumbing,use of any kind, often partially obliterates them, creating endlessconfusion and mistakes. Are you ready?"

  "Perfectly."

  "Owen Lloyd, a native of Wales, and, it was understood, descended from ahighly-respectable family there. About five feet eight; but I need notdescribe his person over again. Many years with us, first as junior,then as head clerk; during which his conduct, as regards the firm, wasexemplary. A man of yielding, irresolute mind--if indeed a person can besaid to really possess a mind at all who is always changing it for someother person's--incapable of saying "No" to embarrassing, impoverishingrequests--one, in short, Mr. Waters, of that numerous class ofindividuals whom fools say are nobody's enemies but their own, as ifthat were possible"----

  "I understand; but I really do not see how this bears upon"----

  "The mission you are directed to undertake? I think it does, as you willpresently see. Three years ago, Owen Lloyd having involved himself, inconsequence of the serious defect of character I have indicated, inlarge liabilities for pretended friends, left our employment; and toavoid a jail, fled, no one could discover whither. Edward Jones, also anative of the principality, whose description, as well as that of hiswife, you will receive from the superintendent, was discharged aboutseven years since from our service for misconduct, and went, weunderstood, to America. He always appeared to possess great influenceover the mind of his considerably younger countryman Lloyd. Jones andhis wife were seen three evenings since by one of our clerks near TempleBar. I am of opinion, Mr. Waters," continued Mr. Smith, removing hisspectacles, and closing the note-book, from which he had been reading,"that it is only the first step in crime, or criminal imprudence, whichfeeble-minded men especially long hesitate or boggle at; and I now morethan suspect that, pressed by poverty, and very possibly yielding to thepersuasions and example of Jones--who, by the way, was as wellacquainted with the premises in Brook Street as his fellow-clerk--theonce honest, ductile Owen Lloyd, is now a common thief and burglar."

  "Indeed!"

  "Yes. A more minute search led to the discovery, the day beforeyesterday, of a pocket-book behind some book-shelves in the library. Asno property had been taken from that room--though the lock of a largeiron chest, containing coins and medals, had been evidently tamperedwith--the search there was not at first very rigorous. Thatpocket-book--here it is--belonged, I know, to Owen Lloyd when in ourservice. See, here are his initials stamped on the cover."

  "Might he not have inadvertently left it there when with you?"

  "You will scarcely think so after reading the date of the five-poundnote of the Hampshire County Bank, which you will find within the innerlining."

  "The date is 1831."

  "Exactly. I have also strong reason for believing that Owen Lloyd isnow, or has been lately, residing in some part of Hampshire."

  "That is important."

  "This letter," continued Mr. Smith; and then pausing for a brief spacein some embarrassment, he added--"The commissioner informed me, Mr.Waters, that you were a person upon whose good sense and _discretion_,as well as sagacity and courage, every confide
nce might be placed. Itherefore feel less difficulty than I otherwise should in admitting youa little behind the family screen, and entering with you upon mattersone would not willingly have bruited in the public ear."

  I bowed, and he presently proceeded.

  "Owen Lloyd, I should tell you, is married to a very amiable, superiorsort of woman, and has one child, a daughter named Caroline, an elegant,gentle-mannered, beautiful girl I admit, to whom my wife was muchattached, and she was consequently a frequent visitor in Brook Street.This I always felt was very imprudent; and the result was, that my sonArthur Smith--only about two years her senior; she was just turned ofseventeen when her father was compelled to fly from hiscreditors--formed a silly, boyish attachment for her. They have since, Igather from this letter, which I found yesterday in Arthur'sdressing-room, carried on, at long intervals, a clandestinecorrespondence, waiting for the advent of more propitious times--which,being interpreted," added Mr. Smith with a sardonic sneer, "means ofcourse my death and burial."

  "You are in possession, then, if Miss Caroline Lloyd is living with herfather, of his precise place of abode?"

  "Not exactly. The correspondence is, it seems, carried on without theknowledge of Owen Lloyd; and the girl states in answer, it should seem,to Arthur's inquiries, that her father would never forgive her if,under present circumstances, she disclosed his place of residence--_we_can now very well understand that--and she intreats Arthur not topersist, at least for the present, in his attempts to discover her. Myson, you must understand, is now of age, and so far as fortune isconcerned, is, thanks to a legacy from an aunt on his mother's side,independent of me."

  "What post-mark does the letter bear?"

  "Charing-Cross. Miss Lloyd states that it will be posted in London by afriend; that friend being, I nothing doubt, her father's confederate,Jones. But to us the most important part of the epistle is the followingline:--'My father met with a sad accident in the forest some time ago,but is now quite recovered.' The words _in the forest_ have, you see,been written over, but not so entirely as to prevent their being, with alittle trouble, traced. Now, coupling this expression with the Hampshirebank-note, I am of opinion that Lloyd is concealed somewhere in the NewForest."

  "A shrewd guess, at all events."

  "You now perceive what weighty motives I have to bring this man tojustice. The property carried off I care little comparatively about; butthe intercourse between the girl and my son must at any cost beterminated"----

  He was interrupted by a clerk, who entered to say that Mr William Lloyd,the gentleman who had advertised as "X. Y. Z." desired to speak to him.Mr. Smith directed Mr. Lloyd to be shewn in; and then, snatching up the"Police Gazette," and thrusting it into one of the table-drawers, saidin a low voice, but marked emphasis, "A relative, no doubt, by the name:be silent, and be watchful."

  A minute afterwards Mr. Lloyd was ushered into the room. He was a thin,emaciated, and apparently sorrow-stricken man, on the wintry side ofmiddle age, but of mild, courteous, gentlemanly speech and manners. Hewas evidently nervous and agitated, and after a word or two of customarysalutation, said hastily, "I gather from this note, sir, that you canafford me tidings of my long-lost brother Owen: where is he?" He lookedeagerly round the apartment, gazed with curious earnestness in my face,and then again turned with tremulous anxiety to Mr. Smith. "Is he dead?Pray do not keep me in suspense."

  "Sit down, sir," said Mr. Smith, pointing to a chair. "Your brother,Owen Lloyd, was for many years a clerk in this establishment"----

  "_Was--was!_" interrupted Mr. Lloyd with greatly-increased agitation:"not now, then--he has left you?"

  "For upwards of three years. A few days ago--pray do not interrupt me--Iobtained intelligence of him, which, with such assistance as you maypossibly be able to afford, will perhaps suffice to enable thisgentleman"--pointing to me--"to discover his present residence."

  I could not stand the look which Mr. Lloyd fixed upon me, and turnedhastily away to gaze out of the window, as if attracted by the noise ofa squabble between two draymen, which fortunately broke out at themoment in the narrow, choked-up street.

  "For what purpose, sir, are you instituting this eager search after mybrother? It cannot be that---- No, no--he has left you, you say, morethan three years: besides, the bare supposition is as wicked as absurd."

  "The truth is, Mr. Lloyd," rejoined Mr. Smith after a few moments'reflection, "there is great danger that my son may disadvantageouslyconnect himself with your--with your brother's family--may, in fact,marry his daughter Caroline. Now I could easily convince Owen"----

  "Caroline!" interjected Mr. Lloyd with a tremulous accent, and his dimeyes suffused with tears--"Caroline!--ay, truly _her_ daughter would benamed Caroline." An instant after, he added, drawing himself up with anair of pride and some sternness: "Caroline Lloyd, sir, is a person who,by birth, and, I doubt not, character and attainments, is a fittingmatch for the son of the proudest merchant of this proud city."

  "Very likely," rejoined Mr. Smith dryly; "but you must excuse me forsaying that, as regards _my_ son, it is one which I will at any costprevent."

  "How am I to know," observed Mr. Lloyd, whose glance of pride hadquickly passed away, "that you are dealing fairly and candidly with mein the matter?"

  In reply to this home-thrust, Mr. Smith placed the letter addressed byMiss Lloyd to his son in the hands of the questioner, at the same timeexplaining how he had obtained it.

  Mr. Lloyd's hands trembled, and his tears fell fast over the letter ashe hurriedly perused it. It seemed by his broken, involuntaryejaculations, that old thoughts and memories were deeply stirred withinhim. "Poor girl!--so young, so gentle and so sorely tried! Her mother'svery turn of thought and phrase. Owen, too, artless, honorable, just ashe was ever, except when the dupe of knaves and villains."

  He seemed buried in thought for some time after the perusal of theletter; and Mr. Smith, whose cue it was to avoid exciting suspicion bytoo great eagerness of speech, was growing fidgetty. At length, suddenlylooking up, he said in a dejected tone, "If this is all you haveascertained, we seem as far off as ever. I can afford you no help."

  "I am not sure of that," replied Mr. Smith. "Let us look calmly at thematter. Your brother is evidently not living in London, and thataccounts for your advertisements not being answered."

  "Truly."

  "If you look at the letter attentively, you will perceive that threeimportant words, 'in the forest,' have been partially erased."

  "Yes, it is indeed so; but what"----

  "Now, is there no particular locality in the country to which yourbrother would be likely to betake himself in preference to another?Gentlemen of fancy and sentiment," added Mr. Smith, "usually fall back,I have heard, upon some favorite haunt of early days when pressed byadversity."

  "It is natural they should," replied Mr. Lloyd, heedless of the sneer."I have felt that longing for old haunts and old faces in intensestforce, even when I was what the world calls prospering in strange lands;and how much more---- But no; he would not return to Wales--toCaermarthen--to be looked down upon by those amongst whom our family forso many generations stood equal with the highest. Besides, I havepersonally sought him there--in vain."

  "But his wife--_she_ is not a native of the principality?"

  "No. Ah! I remember. The forest! It must be so! Caroline Heyworth, whomwe first met in the Isle of Wight, is a native of Beaulieu, a village inthe New Forest, Hampshire. A small, very small property there,bequeathed by an uncle, belonged to her, and perhaps has not beendisposed of. How came I not to think of this before? I will set out atonce--and yet pressing business requires my stay here for a day ortwo."

  "This gentleman, Mr. Waters, can proceed to Beaulieu immediately."

  "That must do then. You will call on me, Mr. Waters--here is myaddress--before you leave town. Thank you. And God bless you, sir," headded, suddenly seizing Mr. Smith's hand, "for the light you have thrownupon this wearying, and, I feared, hopeless search. You need not be soanxious, sir, t
o send a special messenger to release your son from hispromise of marriage to my niece. None of us, be assured, will bedesirous of forcing her upon a reluctant family." He then bowed, andwithdrew.

  "Mr. Waters," said Mr. Smith with a good deal of sternness, as soon aswe were alone, "I expect that no sentimental crotchet will prevent yourdoing your duty in this matter?"

  "What right," I answered with some heat, "have you, sir, to make such aninsinuation?"

  "Because I perceived, by your manner, that you disapproved myquestioning Mr. Lloyd as to the likeliest mode of securing his brother."

  "My manner but interpreted my thoughts: still, sir, I know what belongsto my duty, and shall perform it."

  "Enough: I have nothing more to say."

  I drew on my gloves, took up my hat, and was leaving the room, when Mr.Smith exclaimed, "Stay one moment, Mr Waters: you see that my greatobject is to break off the connection between my son and Miss Lloyd?"

  "I do."

  "I am not anxious, you will remember, to press the prosecution _if, by afrank written confession of his guilt_, Owen Lloyd places an insuperablebar between his child and mine. You understand?"

  "Perfectly. But permit me to observe, that the _duty_ you just nowhinted I might hesitate to perform, will not permit me to be a party toany such transaction. Good-day."

  I waited on Mr. William Lloyd soon afterwards, and listened with painfulinterest to the brief history which he, with childlike simplicity,narrated of his own and brother's fortunes. It was a sad, oft-told tale.They had been early left orphans; and deprived of judicious guidance,had run--William more especially--a wild career of dissipation, till_all_ was gone. Just before the crash came, they had both fallen in lovewith the same woman, Caroline Heyworth, who had preferred the meeker,more gentle-hearted Owen, to his elder brother. They parted in anger.William obtained a situation as bailiff and overseer of an estate inJamaica, where, by many years of toil, good fortune, and economy, he atlength ruined his health and restored his fortunes; and was now returnedto die rich in his native country; and, as he had till an hour beforefeared, unlamented and untended save by hirelings. I promised to writeimmediately I had seen his brother; and with a sorrowful heart tookleave of the vainly-rejoicing, prematurely-aged man.

  I arrived at Southampton by the night-coach--the railway was but justbegun, I remember--and was informed that the best mode of reachingBeaulieu--Bewley, they pronounced it--was by crossing the Southamptonriver to the village of Hythe, which was but a few miles distance fromBeaulieu. As soon as I had breakfasted, I hastened to the quay, and wassoon speeding across the tranquil waters in one of the sharp-stemmedwherries which plied constantly between the shores. My attention wassoon arrested by two figures in the stern of the boat, a man and woman.A slight examination of their features sufficed to convince me that theywere Jones and his wife. They evidently entertained no suspicion ofpursuit; and as I heard them tell the boatmen they were going on to_Bewley_, I determined for the present not to disturb their fanciedsecurity. It was fortunate I did so. As soon as we had landed, theypassed into a mean-looking dwelling, which, from some nets, and a boatunder repair, in a small yard in front of it, I concluded to be afisherman's. As no vehicle could be readily procured, I determined onwalking on, and easily reached Beaulieu, which is charmingly situatedjust within the skirts of the New Forest, about twelve o'clock. Afterpartaking of a slight repast at the principal inn of the place--I forgetits name; but it was, I remember, within a stone's-throw of thecelebrated Beaulieu Abbey ruins--I easily contrived, by a few careless,indirect questions, to elicit all the information I required of theloquacious waiting-maid. Mr. Lloyd, who seemed to bear an excellentcharacter, lived, I was informed, at a cottage about half a mile distantfrom the inn, and chiefly supported himself as a measurer oftimber--beech and ash: a small stock--the oak was reserved forgovernment purposes--he usually kept on hand. Miss Caroline, the girlsaid, did beautiful fancy-work; and a group of flowers painted by her,as natural as life, was framed and glazed in the bar, if I would like tosee it. Upon the right track sure enough! Mr. Lloyd, there could be nolonger a doubt, had unconsciously betrayed his unfortunate, guiltybrother into the hands of justice, and I, an agent of the iron law, wasalready upon the threshold of his hiding-place! I felt no pleasure atthe success of the scheme. To have bravely and honestly stood up againstan adverse fate for so many years, only to fall into crime just asfortune had grown weary of persecuting him, and a long-estranged brotherhad returned to raise him and his to their former position in society,was melancholy indeed! And the young woman too, whose letter breathedso pure, so gentle, so patient a spirit!--it would not bear thinkingabout--and I resolutely strove to look upon the affair as one ofeveryday routine. It would not do, however; and I was about to quit theroom in no very enviable frame of mind, when my boat companions, Mr. andMrs. Jones, entered, and seated themselves at one of the tables. Theapartment was rather a large one, and as I was seated in the corner of abox at some distance from the entrance, they did not at first observeme; and several words caught my ear which awakened a strong desire tohear more. That I might do so, I instantly adopted a very common, butnot the less often very successful device. As soon as the new-comersperceived me, their whispered colloquy stopped abruptly; and after aminute or so, the man said, looking hard at me, "Good-day, sir; you havehad rather a long walk?" and he glanced at my dusty boots.

  "Sir," I replied, enclosing my left ear with my hand in the manner of anatural ear-trumpet, "did you speak?"

  "A dusty walk," he rejoined in a voice that might have been heard in ahurricane or across Fleet Street.

  "One o'clock!" I replied, pulling out my watch. "No: it wants a quarteryet."

  "Deaf as the Monument," said Jones to his companion. "All right."

  The suspended dialogue was but partially resumed.

  "Do you think," said the woman, after the lapse of about fiveminutes--"do you think Owen and his family will go with us? I hope not."

  "Not he: I only asked him just for the say-so of the thing. He is toochicken-hearted for that, or for anything else that requires pluck."

  Finishing the spirits and water they had ordered, they soon afterwardswent out. I followed.

  As soon as we had gone about a hundred paces from the house, I said,"Pray can you tell me which is Mr. Lloyd the beech-merchant's house?"

  "Yes," replied the man, taking hold of my arm, and hallooing into my earwith a power sufficient to really deafen one for life: "we are goingthere to dine."

  I nodded comprehension, and on we journeyed. We were met at the door byOwen Lloyd himself--a man in whose countenance guilelessness, even tosimplicity, seemed stamped by nature's own true hand. So much, thoughtI, for the reliance to be placed on physiognomy! "I have brought you acustomer," said Mr. Jones; "but he is as deaf as a stone." I wascourteously invited in by signs; and with much hallooing and shouting,it was finally settled that, after dinner, I should look over Mr.Lloyd's stock of wood. Dinner had just been placed on the table by Mrs.Lloyd and her daughter. A still very comely, interesting woman was Mrs.Lloyd, though time and sorrow had long since set their unmistakeableseals upon her. Her daughter was, I thought, one of the most charming,graceful young women I had ever seen, spite of the tinge of sadnesswhich dwelt upon her sweet face, deepening its interest if it somewhatdiminished its beauty. My heart ached to think of the misery theannouncement of my errand must presently bring on such gentlebeings--innocent, I felt confident, even of the knowledge of the crimethat had been committed. I dreaded to begin--not, Heaven knows, from anyfear of the men, who, compared with me, were poor, feeble creatures, andI could easily have mastered half-a-dozen such; but the females--thatyoung girl especially--how encounter _their_ despair? I mutely declineddinner, but accepted a glass of ale, and sat down till I could mustersufficient resolution for the performance of my task; for I felt thiswas an opportunity of quietly effecting the capture of both thesuspected criminals which _must_ not be neglected.

  Dinner was just over when Mrs. Lloyd s
aid, "Oh, Mr. Jones, have you seenanything of my husband's pocket-book? It was on a shelf in the roomwhere you slept--not the last time, but when you were here about threeweeks ago. We can find it nowhere; and I thought you might possibly havetaken it by mistake."

  "A black, common-looking thing?" said Jones.

  "Yes."

  "I _did_ take it by mistake. I found it in one of my parcels, and put itin my pocket, intending of course to return it when I came back; but Iremember, when wanting to open a lock of which I had lost the key,taking it out to see if it contained a pencil-case which I thought mightanswer the purpose; and finding none, tossing it away in a pet, I couldnot afterwards find it."

  "Then it is lost?"

  "Yes; but what of that? There was nothing in it."

  "You are mistaken," rejoined Owen; "there was a five-pound country notein it, and the loss will---- What is the matter, friend?"

  I had sprung upon my feet with uncontrollable emotion: Mr. Lloyd'sobservation recalled me to myself, and I sat down again, mutteringsomething about a sudden pain in the side.

  "Oh, if that's the case," said Jones, "I'll make it up willingly. I ampretty rich, you know, just now."

  "We shall be much obliged to you," said Mrs Lloyd; "its loss would be asad blow to us."

  "How came you to send those heavy boxes here, Jones?" said Owen Lloyd."Would it not have been better to have sent them direct to Portsmouth,where the vessel calls?"

  "I had not quite made up my mind to return to America then; and I knewthey would be safer here than anywhere else."

  "When do you mean to take them away? We are so badly off for room, thatthey terribly hamper us."

  "This evening, about nine o'clock. I have hired a smack at Hythe to takeus, bag and baggage, down the river to meet the liner which calls offPortsmouth to-morrow. I wish we could persuade you to go with us."

  "Thank you, Jones," replied Owen in a dejected tone. "I have very littleto hope for here; still my heart clings to the old country."

  I had heard enough; and hastily rising, intimated a wish to look at thetimber at once. Mr. Lloyd immediately rose, and Jones and his wife leftthe cottage to return to Hythe at the same time that we did. I marked afew pieces of timber, and promising to send for them in the morning,hastened away.

  A mountain seemed removed from off my breast: I felt as if I hadachieved a great personal deliverance. Truly a wonderful interpositionof Providence, I thought, that has so signally averted the fatalconsequences likely to have resulted from the thoughtless imprudence ofOwen Lloyd, in allowing his house to be made, however innocently, areceptacle for stolen goods, at the solicitations, too, of a man whosecharacter he knew to be none of the purest. He had had a narrow escape,and might with perfect truth exclaim--

  "There's a Divinity that shapes our ends, Rough-hew them how we will."

  The warrants of which I was the bearer, the London police authoritieshad taken care to get indorsed by a magistrate of the county ofHampshire, who happened to be in London, so that I found no difficultyin arranging effectually for the capture and safe custody of Jones andhis assistants when he came to fetch his booty.

  I had just returned to the Beaulieu inn, after completing myarrangements, when a carriage drove furiously up to the door, and whoshould, to my utter astonishment, alight, but Mr. William Lloyd, andMessrs. Smith, father and son. I hastened out, and briefly enjoiningcaution and silence, begged them to step with me into a private room.The agitation of Mr. Lloyd and of Mr. Arthur Smith was extreme, but Mr.Smith appeared cold and impassive as ever. I soon ascertained thatArthur Smith, by his mother's assistance, I suspect, had earlypenetrated his father's schemes and secrets, and had, in consequence,caused Mr. William Lloyd to be watched home, with whom, immediatelyafter I had left, he had a long conference. Later in the evening an_eclaircissement_ with the father took place; and after a long andstormy discussion, it was resolved that all three should the nextmorning post down to Beaulieu, and act as circumstances might suggest.My story was soon told. It was received of course with unbounded joy bythe brother and the lover; and even through the father's apparentindifference I could perceive that his refusal to participate in thegeneral joy would not be of long duration. The large fortune which MrWilliam Lloyd intimated his intention to bestow upon his niece was a newand softening element in the affair.

  Mr. Smith, senior, ordered his dinner; and Mr. Lloyd and ArthurSmith--but why need I attempt to relate what _they_ did? I only knowthat when, a long time afterwards, I ventured to look in at Mr. OwenLloyd's cottage, all the five inmates--brother, uncle, lover, niece, andwife--were talking, laughing, weeping, smiling, like distractedcreatures, and seemed utterly incapable of reasonable discourse. An hourafter that, as I stood screened by a belt of forest-trees in wait forMr. Jones and company, I noticed, as they all strolled past me in theclear moonlight, that the tears, the agitation had passed away, leavingonly smiles and grateful joy on the glad faces so lately clouded byanxiety and sorrow. A mighty change in so brief a space!

  Mr. Jones arrived with his cart and helpers in due time. A man whosometimes assisted in the timber-yard was deputed, with an apology forthe absence of Mr. Lloyd, to deliver the goods. The boxes, full of plateand other valuables, were soon hoisted in, and the cart moved off. I letit proceed about a mile, and then, with the help I had placed inreadiness, easily secured the astounded burglar and his assistants; andearly the next morning Jones was on his road to London. He was tried atthe ensuing Old-Bailey sessions, convicted, and transported for life;and the discretion I had exercised in not executing the warrant againstOwen Lloyd was decidedly approved of by the authorities.

  It was about two months after my first interview with Mr. Smith that, onreturning home one evening, my wife placed before me a piece ofbride-cake, and two beautifully-engraved cards united with white satinribbon, bearing the names of Mr. and Mrs. Arthur Smith. I was moregratified by this little act of courtesy for Emily's sake, as those whohave temporarily fallen from a certain position in society will easilyunderstand, than I should have been by the costliest present. Theservice I had rendered was purely accidental: it has nevertheless beenalways kindly remembered by all parties whom it so critically served.