he chimney-piece of an inner room in
his apartment, a room between that in which he had received Guarston and
his bed-chamber, and used by him both as study and workshop. The nails,
indeed, which were very long and narrow, with a Gothic ornamental head,
were at once recognised by the carpenter on the estate as having been
made according to Losely's directions, for a garden bench to be placed
in Gunston's favourite walk, Gunston having remarked, some days before,
that he should like a seat there, and Losely having undertaken to make
one from a design by Pugin. Still loth to believe in Losely's guilt,
Gunston went to London with the police superintendent, the valet, and
the neighbouring attorney. They had no difficulty in finding Losely;
he was at his son's lodgings in the City, near the commercial house in
which the son was a clerk. On being told of the robbery, he seemed at
first unaffectedly surprised, evincing no fear. He was asked whether he
had gone into the study about two o'clock in the morning. He said, 'No;
why should I?' The valet exclaimed: 'But I saw you--I knew you by that
old grey cloak, with the red lining. Why, there it is now--on that
chair yonder. I'll swear it is the same.' Losely then began to tremble
visibly, and grew extremely pale. A question was next put to him as to
the nail, but he secured quite stupefied, muttering: 'Good heavens!
the cloak--you mean to say you saw that cloak?' They searched his
person--found on him some sovereigns, silver, and one bank-note for
five pounds. The number on that bank-note corresponded with a number in
Gunston's pocket-book. He was asked to say where he got that five-pound
note. He refused to answer. Gunston said: 'It is one of the notes stolen
from me!' Losely cried fiercely: 'Take care what you say. How do you
know?' Gunston replied: 'I took an account of the numbers of my notes
on leaving your room. Here is the memorandum in my pocket-book--see--'
Losely looked, and fell back as if shot. Losely's brother-in-law was
in the room at the time, and he exclaimed, 'Oh, William! you can't be
guilty. You are the honestest fellow in the world. There must be some
mistake, gentlemen. Where did you get the note, William--say?'

"Losely made no answer, but seemed lost in thought or stupefaction. 'I
will go for your son, William--perhaps he may help to explain.' Losely
then seemed to wake up. 'My son! what! would you expose me before my
son? he's gone into the country, as you