“This infamous crime, you should say, Mr. Andrews,” I replied; “for the commission of which you are liable to be transported for life.”

“Yes, crime; no doubt that is the true word!  But must the innocent child suffer for his father’s offence?”

“That is the only consideration that could induce me to wag a finger in the business.  Like many other clever rogues, you are caught in the trap you limed for others.  Come to me tomorrow; I will think over the matter between this and then; but at present I can say nothing.  Stay,” I added, as his hand was on the door; “the identity of your son can be proved, I suppose, by better evidence than your own?”

“Certainly, certainly.”

“That, will do, then; I will see you in the morning.”

If it should cross the mind of any reader that I ought to have given this self-confessed felon into custody, I beg to remind him that, for the reasons previously stated, such a course on my part was out of the question—­impossible; and that, had it not been impossible I should do so, Mr. Jesse Andrews would not have intrusted me with his criminal secret.  The only question now therefore was, how, without compromising this guilty client, the godfather’s legacy could be secured for the innocent son.

A conference the next morning with Mr. Flint resulted in our sending for Mr. Jesse Andrews, and advising him, for fear of accidents or miscarriage in our plans, to betake himself to the kingdom of France for a short time.  We had then no treaty of extradition with that country.  As soon as I knew he was safely out of the realm, I waited upon the insurance people.

“The money ought not to have been received by Jesse Andrews, you say, Mr. Sharp?” observed the managing-gentleman, looking keenly in my face.

“Precisely.  It ought not to have been received by him.”

“And why not, Mr. Sharp?”

“That is quite an unnecessary question, and one that, you know, I should not answer, if I could.  That which chiefly concerns you is, that I am ready to return the four thousand pounds at once, here on the spot, and that delays are dangerous.  If you refuse, why, of course—­and I rose from my chair—­I must take back the money.”

“Stay—­stay!  I will just consult with one or two gentlemen, and be with you again almost immediately.”

In about five minutes he returned.  “Well, Mr. Sharp,” he said, “we had, I suppose; better take the money—­obtained, as you say, by mistake.”

“Not at all; I said nothing about mistake.  I told you it ought not to have been received by Andrews!”

“Well—­well.  I understand.  I must, I suppose, give you a receipt?”

“Undoubtedly; and, if you please, precisely in this form.”

I handed him a copy on a slip of paper.  He ran it over, smiled, transcribed it on a stamp, signed it, and, as I handed him a check for the amount, placed it in my hands.  We mutually bowed, and I went my way.