'It was between six and seven. I'd been doing a message for a gentleman in the Strand--a gentleman in the dining-room line to a gentleman in Holborn in the sausage and tripe line--and I was going back with a letter, and going through Lincoln's Inn for a short cut. Just as I was getting near the gate to the Fields, I saw coming out of the door at No. 12 the very man you want to find. I wasn't thinking about him, not a bit-- I was thinking of nothing at all, when he come out of the door and walked down the steps. Then I knew him. Lord! I knew him at once. "You're the man," I says to myself, "as give me the half-sov. instead of eighteenpence." Well, I stood at the corner and waited to see if he would remember me. Not a bit of it. He stared at me hard, but he never recollected me a bit--I could see that. Why should he? Nobody remembers the servant any more than they remember the private in the ranks. The very same old gentleman; but he's grown older, and he didn't look jolly any more. P'raps he's lost his money.' 'Came out of No. 12, did he? Why, Dering & Son's office is there. What does this mean?' 'I thought I'd like to find out something more about him; and I thought that a five-pound note was better worth looking after than eighteenpence--so I let the letter from the tripe and sausage man lay a bit, and I followed my old gentleman at a good distance.' 'Oh! you followed him. Very good. Did you find out where he lived? I can tell you that. He went to No. 22 South Square, Gray's Inn.' 'No; he didn't, sir.--But you are not very far wrong. He went through Great Turnstile; then he crossed Holborn and turned into Featherstone Buildings, which is all lodging-houses. But he doesn't live there. He walked through the Buildings, and so into Bedford Row, and he stopped at a house there----' 'What! In Bedford Row?' 'Yes; in Bedford Row--and he pulls out a latch-key and lets himself in. That's where he lives. No. 49 Bedford Row, on the west side, very near the bottom. He lives in Bedford Row.--Well, sir, I like to do things proper, and so, to make the job complete, I went to the _Salutation_, Holborn, where they keep a Directory, and I looked out his name. The gentleman that lives at No. 49 Bedford Row is named Edward Dering--and among the names of No. 12 New Square, Lincoln's Inn, is the name of Dering & Son.--So, sir, I don't think it is too much to say that your man is Mr. Dering, who belongs both to Bedford Row and Lincoln's Inn. He's the man who sent me to the Bank eight years ago.' Athelstan stared at him. 'He the man?' he cried. 'You are talking impossibilities. He can't be the man.' 'Nobody else, sir. If that was Mr. Dering that I saw yesterday walking home from New Square to Bedford Row--he's the man who sent me for the money.'