; and I feel sure that if I were to
introduce myself to him, and let him know that I was acquainted with it,
and could bring witnesses to prove his guilt, long ago as it happened, I
might gain an influence over him, which I might exercise for Harry's
benefit. Sir Mostyn Stafford, you will understand, is still alive, and
all Biddulph's scheming and plotting has hitherto gained him no
advantage. My first idea was to go and give him his choice, either to
acknowledge Harry, or to take the consequences of having his crime made
known; he might, however, set me at defiance. The difficulty would be
to prove that the young lady you saw was Miss Stafford, and then that
the child saved from the wreck was the same little boy she had brought
with her. The first thing to be done, as it seemed to me, was to learn
from Mrs Stafford if she knew how her little boy was likely to have
been dressed; and if she described him as you had seen him, it would
settle the matter in our minds, and we might possibly get Mr Pengelley,
or some other lawyer, to take up the case, and try to gain his rights
for your young Harry. As soon as this idea occurred to me, I went back
to Mr Pengelley; he thought that I might be right, but told me to wait
till he had obtained some more certain information as to how the
Stafford estates were settled. This took up some time, for lawyers seem
to me to have a peculiarly slow way of setting about a business;
probably they find from experience that `Slow and steady wins the race.'
At last he sent for me, and told me that I might go off and see Mrs
Stafford, and gain all I could from her. I of course lost not a moment.
She recognised me at once, though she was naturally surprised to find
how I was changed. I introduced the subject cautiously. I then asked
her if she thought it possible that her son was still alive? She said
that sometimes she had hopes, but then she could not understand how it
was that her sister-in-law had never written to her. At last I asked
her if she could describe what her son was like? `Yes,' she said, `for
I have his portrait, which Emily sent me a few days only before her
mother's death.' `Will you allow me to see it?' I asked; and going to
her room she returned with a small well-done drawing of a little boy,
exactly like what Harry might have been, and dressed as you described
him, in a sailor's jacket and trousers and round hat.

"`You see him in a dress I made for him myself, and