“I asked the woman of the house,” went on the imperturbable policeman, “to show me Paul Somerton’s bedroom. She took me up-stairs, and pointed a room out to me which she said was his. I asked if the box beneath the dressing-table was Paul Somerton’s, and she said it was. I broke it open, and found at the bottom, beneath some clothes, the purse now produced. I then went to the offices of the Meter Ironworks and apprehended the prisoner.” “Is this your purse, Mr. Gibbs?” the magistrate inquired. “It is,” was that gentleman’s reply. “And the contents now are the same as when you lost it?” “They are, sir,” said Mr. Gibbs. “Have you any questions to ask the policeman?” the magistrate inquired, addressing Mr. Williamson. The barrister, after a short conversation with the prisoner, said he had not. The police Inspector who had charge of the case asked if it would be necessary to call Mrs. Dibble to prove the ownership of the box wherein the purse was found. Mr. Williamson said he thought, before the Court went any further with the case, it was well that he should apply for an adjournment until the next day. From the instructions of his client, who was, as the bench had judged, most respectably connected, he had no hesitation in saying that the case would turn out to be one of conspiracy against the prisoner; but he was hardly in a position to deal with it at so short a notice. “At present there is ample evidence for committal to the sessions--a sufficiently _primâ facie_ case for trial,” said the magistrate. “Would it not be better to defer your defence until then?” Mr. Williamson differed with the learned magistrate, and pressed for adjournment. “Without bail, of course,” said the magistrate. “I think I shall be in a position to offer substantial bail in the course of an hour,” said Paul’s new friend. “I shall be here for two hours,” said the magistrate, “and will consider your application. I do not think I should be inclined to accept bail.” The prisoner was then removed, and his legal and journalistic friend went with him. Mr. Williamson was a gentleman well-known on the London press, not only for a certain cleverness in the epistolary style of writing, but for his peculiar amiability. Educated for the Church, certain scruples of conscience had induced him to give up the Establishment just when he was expected to be ready for ordination. Afterwards he read for the Bar, was called in due time, and took up his quarters in the Temple. No briefs coming into his hands, he directed his attention to the Press, secured an appointment as critic on the _Sunday Review_, and was appointed London correspondent of _Berrow’s Journal_, an old provincial paper of considerable repute. He joined the Hamilton Club, where Press-men most do congregate, and by degrees came to be regarded as one of the craft.