It was about a fortnight after the trial that one of my trustees, Captain Galloway, asked me by letter for an appointment; he presented himself with Captain Fairman, the other trustee. They were both bluff, hearty seamen of the old school, somewhat resembling each other, though not connected. The motive of their visit was to get me to give up Tom. Captain Galloway had not forgotten my treatment of his son, and talked with ill-advised heat. He did not deny that he considered Captain Butler guilty. I listened with contempt at first, but this gave way to temper which rose into wrath, and I fairly gave the devil they had aroused within me his way. When they had gone I caught sight of myself in a mirror, and I looked as flaming and red and swelling and breathless as any mad murderess in a padded cell. I guessed my aunt was at the bottom of these captains’ visits. She must have asked Mr. Stanford to talk to me too; otherwise I doubt if he had dared venture it. Yet I listened to the fellow patiently till he told me that he spoke as the representative of my mother on earth; that made me think of my father and I started up. I meant no physical violence though I was capable of it then, but my manner of jumping up was so menacing that he instantly started from his chair and hastened out of the room, slamming the door after him. I would not trust my uncle to obtain news of Tom. I knew that all interested in me wished me to break off with my sweetheart, and would hoodwink me if they could by keeping me in ignorance that Tom had been sent out of the country. A clerk named Woolfe who had been in my uncle’s employ had started for himself; he was a shrewd, unscrupulous young dog. I bargained with him to get me news of Tom, and to work all methods of communication practicable by bribery. From him I learned that my sweetheart had been removed from Newgate to Millbank. The fellow took a hundred guineas from me in all, but did no more for the money than discover where Tom was; and one day, about four months after Tom’s conviction, this young rogue of a lawyer called upon me at Stepney to say that Tom had been transferred from Millbank to H.M.S. _Warrior_ hulk, moored off Woolwich Dockyard. ‘Are you sure?’ I cried. ‘I am now from Millbank,’ said he. ‘And what will happen next?’ I demanded. ‘They’ll keep him at forced labour at the dockyard,’ he answered, ‘till a transport hauls alongside the hulk for a cargo.’ ‘When will that be?’ ‘Impossible to say, miss.’ ‘Will you get me the rules of the hulk?’ ‘They are the same as the jails.’ ‘But I have not seen Captain Butler since his conviction, nor heard from him, nor know whether he has received my letters.’