uilt a superb residence
thereon, letting the old mansion remain closed. Very recently he had
died, leaving no will and no heirs, and the estate again escheated to
the crown.

"I was very anxious to search the old mansion, and readily obtained
permission to enter. It was built in the time of Elizabeth, and was a
large building, similar in architecture to many others built in the
sixteenth century in this part of England. As I entered the deserted
building a strange feeling of desolation took possession of me. Hardly a
human being had been within its walls for fifty years. The dust lay deep
on the bare oaken floor, and almost muffled the sound of my footsteps.
On one exquisitely carved panel appeared, in defiance of attempts to
destroy it, the Wickham coat-of-arms.

"I was searching for nothing in particular, but everything had to me a
fascinating interest, and I opened every door and examined every nook
and shelf. In one room I came across an antique oaken desk. As I pulled
open one of its drawers a half-dozen scared spiders fled before the
intruding rays of light. In the drawer there was a small wooden box.
There was nothing in this box but a sheet of paper, folded and sealed,
and addressed to the attorney-general of England. I hesitated a moment,
and then broke it open with excited curiosity. It was the most thrilling
moment of my life. Even now, as I tell you this story, I feel the same
thrill go through me as when my eyes ran over that page. It was nothing
more nor less than a written confession of,--first, treason against the
crown of England; and, second, perjury and false witness against Samuel
Wickham. It was signed by the officer who appeared against him, and was
witnessed by two parties. Strange to say, both of these parties were
still living, and able to attest the validity of their signatures and
the genuineness of the other. They had merely witnessed this signature
at the time, without being aware of the nature of the document.

"The excitement and delight which followed this discovery were so great
that I could do nothing at all for a time. I then engaged the services
of an able barrister, and within six months the judgment of outlawry,
forfeiture, attainder, and corruption of blood, pronounced eighty-five
years ago upon Samuel Wickham by the Court of the King's Bench, was,
upon a writ of error, reversed by the Court of the King's Exchequer. I
then proved that I was the only surviving heir of the wrongful