When the “Endeavour” eventually arrived at Leith, where her non-appearance had caused considerable anxiety, Geddes, on perusing the newspapers, saw the Deacon’s description; but, though satisfied that the letters he carried were written by the notorious William Brodie, for three weeks after making the discovery he did nothing further in the matter. Perhaps a dilatory habit had been induced by his late experiences, or his conscience may have required some persuasion. Having at last decided to open the letters, he showed them to various persons, and subsequently delivered them over to the Sheriff. In taking this course, Geddes was probably actuated less by a sense of duty to his country than by a desire to secure the reward. If so, it is satisfactory to find that he did not receive it. The authorities had now, through the Deacon’s singular imprudence, obtained the necessary clue to his whereabouts, and no time was lost in following it up. What were the contents of the letter to Anne Grant we have now no means of knowing, for that document was not produced at the trial, but the other two letters will be found at length in the following report. In all the contemporary accounts of the trial the names of persons referred to by Deacon Brodie in his letters were, for obvious reasons, omitted. These are now printed in full for the first time from the originals in the Justiciary Office, Edinburgh. In that addressed to his brother-in-law, Matthew Sheriff, dated 8th April, the Deacon writes--“My stock is seven guineas; but by I reach Ostend will be reduced to less than six. My wardrobe is all on my back, excepting two check shirts and two white ones; one of them an old rag I had from my cousin Milton, with an old hat (which I left behind). My coat, an old blue one, out at arms and elbows, I also had from him, with an old striped waistcoat and a pair of good boots. Perhaps my cousin judged right that old things were best for my purpose. However, no reflections; he is my cousin and a good prudent lad, and showed great anxiety for my safety; rather too anxious, for he would not let me take my black coat with me. I could not extract one guinea from him, although he owes me twenty-four pounds for three years past. He cannot help his natural temper.” Evidently the spruce and dapper gentleman keenly felt the sartorial straits to which his cousin’s parsimony had reduced him. He requests that wearing apparel, tools, and certain articles connected with his trade be forwarded to him at an address in New York; desires that his remittances may be as liberal as possible--“for without money I can make but a poor shift”; and adds in a postscript, “Let my name and destination be a profound secret, for fear of bad consequences.”