My transfer from this hateful district was, however, nearer than I supposed, and an unexpected occurrence a few days after my arrival brought about this welcome change. My door was one day suddenly opened, and my friend the turnkey appeared in breathless agitation. “Summat’s up,” he jerked out; “mind you tells em nothink. You’re going to be transferred at once.” CHAPTER XVI. THE VISITING JUSTICES. SOMETHING was indeed up; a letter, in fact, that I had clandestinely written had been intercepted. Personally I was indifferent to the result; the worst had been done to me when I found myself in prison. Degrees of punishment had no terrors for me, and I was equally callous as to whether employed in a “situation of trust” or languishing in a punishment cell. To me all appeared tarred with the same brush, and I loathed the privileges and punishments, the indulgences and deprivations, the spiritual comforts, and every other contingency with the same intensity. As regards the turnkey, however, my sympathy was enlisted. Here was a poor man, with a wife and family, liable to dismissal, and even imprisonment, if convicted of carrying letters. At the time I was at a loss to understand how the traffic could possibly have been discovered. I was confident I had not been observed writing, and had seen the letters securely secreted in the warder’s pouch. Unless, then, he had been guilty of some indiscretion, the discovery seemed impossible. Such a contingency as foul play from without never entered my head, and yet, alas, such a thing had actually occurred. A servant in the family of one of my correspondents had lately been detected in a series of systematic thefts from her employers, extending over many months. The discovery naturally involved her immediate dismissal, and by way of gratitude for their refraining from prosecuting her, she purloined my letter, and assuming a position of authority, called at the prison and produced the document. Her motive was clearly revenge, but the truth (as it always does) eventually came out, and the mystery that shrouded the transaction for months has happily been dispelled, and the temporary doubt (almost excusable) that associated the act with very dear friends has given way to a regret that I could ever have doubted their honour. As to the thieving, sneaking wretch, she decamped with her spoils; and though her photograph has been freely distributed in the “three ball” quarter, she has hitherto evaded discovery. For my part I would gladly subscribe a trifle for the present address of Mrs. Smith. With the mystery that surrounded everything that occurred in the place, I tried in vain to ascertain whether anything had really been discovered, but day after day passed, and the affair had apparently blown over. This, however, was an erroneous impression; it was only the lull that precedes the storm, and not a stone was being left unturned to sift the matter.