On my way to the scene of my intended conquest I passed up Farringdon Street, and went into a fruiterer's shop at the corner of the New Market to buy an orange. How vividly I still remember this trifling incident in all its details. I ate my orange as I went jauntily up Fleet Street, thinking of nothing but how I should introduce the subject, what they would say, and how I should go through the ordeal I had to face, on the results of which depended all my dearest earthly hopes. Had I not in the silent hours of night, when I was pursuing my experiments, and wearily working at these new dies, told myself triumphantly: "A few more weeks will seal the fate of my whole life. If I succeed in saving the Government so much revenue, they must liberally reward me. I shall then establish myself in a new home, and marry the young lady to whom I have for two years been engaged." I had needed no stronger incentive to urge me onward as the lonely hours of night found me engaged in the laborious work of making these dies. I now felt that the task was over, and that I was well on the road to my reward; but suddenly my day-dream came to an end, for just as I approached Temple Bar I discovered that I was not in possession of my parcel of stamps. I was staggered for a moment, and a cold perspiration seemed to break out all over me. I felt faint and alarmed, for in a second I began to fully realise the fact that I had actually been possessed of forged stamps, and had left them on the counter of the shop where I had bought the orange. The little paper parcel was not sealed. What if curiosity had caused it to be looked into and handed over to the police? It was but a momentary hesitation, for I knew well that I was innocent of all intentional wrong, though perhaps not technically so, and I hastened back with all speed to the fruiterer's shop.

"Did you," I asked, "see a small parcel left here by me half an hour ago?"

"Oh, yes, sir," was the reply. "I put it on the shelf, thinking you would come back for it."

How gladly I once more grasped it, and felt that I was now safe, even from a momentary suspicion. I own that I was a little crestfallen and unnerved; but a sharp walk soon restored my confidence, and I entered Somerset House with a firm step and full faith that I should succeed in my mission. I was admitted into the private office of Sir Charles Presley, and said that I desired him to tell me if a dozen receipt stamps, which I handed him, were genuine. He looked at them attentively with a large magnifying glass, and laid two aside which he thought were not genuine. As far as I can remember exactly what passed, I said there were more forgeries among them, when he enquired, "How do you know that?"

I answered: "Simply because I forged them myself."

I could not quite suppress a smile as I said this somewhat triumphantly, and I distinctly remember his severe frown, as he said: "Young man, you treat this subject with a great deal of levity."

I at once apologised, and assured him that my object was solely to prevent all future forgery of stamps, and that I had ventured to test his experienced eye in order that he might himself appreciate the full danger to the State if my system were publicly known; unless, indeed, some remedy could be suggested for the prevention of further forgery.

As my scheme was unfolded he gradually relaxed that severe expression of countenance which plainly evinced that he felt annoyed at being tricked by a youth in so bold a manner, and the importance he evidently attached to my communication was manifested by his request that I would call again in a few days.

I may here briefly state that one of the plans I brought before the Stamp Office authorities was adopted by them, and has been to this day employed as a security against forgery on every stamp issued by the Stamp Office during the last half century; but I was nevertheless pushed from pillar to post, and denied all remuneration for the important services I had rendered. I was too busy making my way in life at this period to press any legal claims on the Government. I had no friend at Court, and had to bear this shameful treatment as best I could; and so, this matter of the stamps sunk gradually into oblivion until the year 1878, when my angry feelings against the Government were again excited by their refusal to allow me to accept the Grand Cross of the Legion of Honour, which the French Government desired to present me with, provided that the British Government would permit me to wear it. The failure of all attempts