made no defence at all. And yet, with my own eyes I saw Lord
Mannering murdered, and I am as guiltless of it as any man on the jury
that tried me.

Now, sir, you are there to receive the petitions of prisoners. It all
lies with you. All I ask is that you read it--just read it--and then
that you make an inquiry or two about the private character of this
"lady" Mannering, if she still keeps the name that she had three years
ago, when to my sorrow and ruin I came to meet her. You could use a
private inquiry agent or a good lawyer, and you would soon learn enough
to show you that my story is the true one. Think of the glory it would
be to you to have all the papers saying that there would have been a
shocking miscarriage of justice if it had not been for your perseverance
and intelligence! That must be your reward, since I am a poor man and
can offer you nothing. But if you don't do it, may you never lie easy in
your bed again! May no night pass that you are not haunted by the
thought of the man who rots in gaol because you have not done the duty
which you are paid to do! But you will do it, sir, I know. Just make one
or two inquiries, and you will soon find which way the wind blows.
Remember, also, that the only person who profited by the crime was
herself, since it changed her from an unhappy wife to a rich young
widow. There's the end of the string in your hand, and you only have to
follow it up and see where it leads to.

Mind you, sir, I make no complaint as far as the burglary goes. I don't
whine about what I have deserved, and so far I have had no more than I
have deserved. Burglary it was, right enough, and my three years have
gone to pay for it. It was shown at the trial that I had had a hand in
the Merton Cross business, and did a year for that, so my story had the
less attention on that account. A man with a previous conviction never
gets a really fair trial. I own to the burglary, but when it comes to
the murder which brought me a lifer--any judge but Sir James might have
given me the gallows--then I tell you that I had nothing to do with it,
and that I am an innocent man. And now I'll take that night, the 13th of
September, 1894, and I'll give you just exactly what occurred, and may
God's hand strike me down if I go one inch over the truth.

I had been at Bristol in the summer looking for work, and then I had a
notion that I might get something at Portsmouth, for I was trained as a
skilled mechanic, so I came