nable business of Tilsit--
that my churchwarden, the late Mr. Ephraim Pollard, and I, in cleaning
the south wall of Lanihale Church for a fresh coat of whitewash,
discovered the frescoes and charcoal drawings, as well as the brass
plaque of which I sent you a tracing; and I think not above a fortnight
later that, on your suggestion, I set to work to decipher and copy out
the old churchwardens' accounts. On the Monday after Easter, at about
nine o'clock P.M., I was seated in the Vicarage parlour, busily
transcribing, with a couple of candles before me, when my housekeeper
Frances came in with a visiting-card, and the news that a stranger
desired to speak with me. I took the card and read "Mr. Joseph
Laquedem."

"Show the gentleman in," said I.

Now the fact is, I had just then a few guineas in my chest, and you know
what a price gold fetched in 1807. I dare say that for twelve months
together the most of my parishioners never set eyes on a piece, and any
that came along quickly found its way to the Jews. People said that
Government was buying up gold, through the Jews, to send to the armies.
I know not the degree of truth in this, but I had some five and twenty
guineas to dispose of, and had been put into correspondence with a Mr.
Isaac Laquedem, a Jew residing by Plymouth Dock, whom I understood to be
offering 25s. 6d. per guinea, or a trifle above the price then current.

I was fingering the card when the door opened again and admitted a
young man in a caped overcoat and tall boots bemired high above the
ankles. He halted on the threshold and bowed.

"Mr.--?"

"Joseph Laquedem," said he in a pleasant voice.

"I guess your errand," said I, "though it was a Mr. Isaac Laquedem whom
I expected.--Your father, perhaps?"

He bowed again, and I left the room to fetch my bag of guineas.
"You have had a dirty ride," I began on my return.

"I have walked," he answered, lifting a muddy boot. "I beg you to
pardon these."

"What, from Torpoint Ferry? And in this weather? My faith, sir, you
must be a famous pedestrian!"

He made no reply to this, but bent over the guineas, fingering them,
holding them up to the candlelight, testing their edges with his
thumbnail, and finally poising them one by one on the tip of his
forefinger.

"I have a pair of scales," suggested I.

"Thank you, I too have a pair in my pocket. But I do not need them.
The guineas are good weight, all but this one, which is possibly a
couple