"I then ran out upon the balcony to see whether the man had not been seized, but all was quiet, and the people had dispersed, satisfied with having seen the queen. In the afternoon Sir Robert Peel came with the head of police, {351}and took down my statement, in writing, together with a description of the man's appearance. "Yesterday morning a boy of fourteen, named Pearse, came to Mr. Murray, and said that he had seen a man present a pistol at us as we were returning from church, but he did not fire, and afterwards exclaimed, 'Fool that I was not to fire!' We sent the boy to the home office, where his evidence was taken down. The police showed the greatest activity. We are naturally much agitated, Victoria very nervous and unwell. As the doctor wished that she should go out, we determined to do so; for we should have to shut ourselves up for months, had we settled not to go out, so long as the miscreant was at large. Besides, as he could have no suspicion he was watched, we felt sure that he would come again skulking around the palace, and that the numerous policemen in plain clothes, who were on the lookout for him, would seize him on the least imprudence or carelessness on his part. We drove out at four, gave orders to drive faster than usual, and for the two equerries, Colonel Wylde and Colonel Arbuthnot, to ride close to the carriage. You may imagine that our minds were not very easy. We looked behind every tree, and I cast my eyes around in search of the rascal's face. We, however, got safely through the parks, and drove towards Hampstead. The weather was superb, and hosts of people on foot. On our way home, as we were approaching the palace, between the Green Park and the garden wall, a shot was fired at us about five paces off. It was the fellow with the same pistol--a little swarthy, ill-looking rascal. The shot must have passed under the carriage, for he lowered his hand. We felt as if a load had been taken off our hearts, and, we thanked the Almighty for having preserved us a second time from so great a danger. {352}John Francis (that is the man's name) was standing near a policeman, who immediately seized him, but could not prevent the shot. The culprit was instantly taken off to the police office. He is not out of his mind, but a thorough scamp. His answers were coarse and witty. He tries to make fun of his judges. Little Pearse identified him this morning as the same person he had seen on Sunday. He is twenty-two years old, the son of a machinist at one of the theatres;--a wretched creature."