er named Gye.

The result of the magistrates' inquiry may be discovered in _The Times_
of August 20, where we read:--

The Lady of a Gentleman of Bath, possessed of a
good fortune, and respected by a numerous circle
of acquaintance, was committed on Thursday by G.
Chapman, Esq., the Mayor, to the County Gaol at
Ilchester, on a charge of privately stealing a
card of lace from a haberdasher's shop.

As Mrs. Perrot did not come up for trial until the end of the following
March, she had to undergo a long and trying confinement. It appears that
she was not lodged actually in the gaol, but in some neighbouring
house, kept by a man of the name of Scadding.

The charge was a monstrous one; the accused had ample means to indulge
every wish, and nothing short of lunacy (of which she never showed the
slightest sign) could have induced her to commit so petty a theft. Her
high character and the absence of motive combined to render it
incredible, and, had she been capable of such a deed, she would not have
courted detection by walking quietly past the shop, a quarter of an hour
later, with the parcel in her hand. There were also strong reasons for
thinking that the accusation was the result of a deep-laid plot. Gye,
the printer, who lived in the market-place, was believed to be the chief
instigator. His character was indifferent, and he had money invested in
Gregory's shop; and the business was in so bad a way that there was a
temptation to seek for some large haul by way of blackmail. Mrs. Leigh
Perrot was selected as the victim, people thought, because her husband
was so extremely devoted to her that he would be sure to do anything to
save her from the least vexation. If so, the conspirators were mistaken
in their man. Mr. Perrot resolved to see the matter through, and, taking
no notice of the many suggestions as to hush-money that were apparently
circulated, engaged the best counsel possible, secured his most
influential acquaintance as witnesses to his wife's character, and spent
the terrible intervening period in confinement with her at Ilchester. He
was well aware that the criminal law of England, as it then existed,
made the lot of untried prisoners as hard, and the difficulty of proving
their innocence as great, as possible; he knew also that in the seething
disquiet of men's minds, brought about by the French Revolution, it was
quite possible they might encounte