On their arrival at the establishment on Monday morning, Mr. Jones and Cadwgan at once went to Mr. Roberts’ private office, when that gentleman looked at Mr. Wynn with a hard and scowling brow. As Mr. Jones had always experienced the greatest kindness from Mr. Roberts (they had been more like brothers than friends), he was surprised and astonished in observing his altered look, and boldly asked the cause of his seeming displeasure.
“Cause, sir!” exclaimed Mr. Roberts. “Did you say cause! There is methinks enough of cause! To be robbed of £3000 by this young man, whom you introduced to me, for whom I have done so much, whose interest and welfare I have done so much to promote—’tis enough to make me curse the day on which I was weak and foolish enough to comply with your pressing request to take him into my service. Cause, indeed! To be robbed thus is a sufficient cause for my anger.”
“Did you say, sir,” remarked Cadwgan, “that I had robbed you of £3000?”
“Certainly, I said so. And you don’t deny it.”
“I emphatically deny your charge, sir, and demand the name of my accuser.”
“I accuse you, sir. Is not that enough?”
“But, Mr. Roberts, you are a just man, and I presume you will not condemn me before placing in my possession the evidence upon which your judgment rests.”
“My informant, sir, is my confidential clerk, Mr. McLiver. He is prepared to swear to the fact of your being the robber, and his cousin Donald will corroborate his statement.”
McLiver was then summoned by Mr. Roberts; and in reply to his inquiries stated, that on the previous Saturday evening he and his cousin had secreted themselves in the house, that during the time they were in their hiding-place Mr. Wynn came down from his own room and went into the cashier’s office, and by means of false keys opened the safe and rifled the drawers of their contents, which he put into a bag, then retired. He continued to say, that he and his cousin waited there some time, that Mr. Wynn went back to his own office, and afterwards came down stairs with the bag in his hand, which was so heavy that he was almost weighed down. He left the office taking the bag of gold with him. Donald corroborated his cousin’s statement.
Mr. Jones, as was natural, appeared much excited during the Scotchman’s narrative. He almost believed in his young friend’s guilt, because the evidence was so direct and circumstantial. Mr. Wynn stood calm and collected; he never moved during the few minutes which the delivery of the evidence against him occupied, though his dark piercing eye, intently fixed upon McLiver, made that man quail beneath its penetrating glance. When they had finished their story, Mr. Wynn asked his employer’s permission to call evidence in his favour,—a request which was readily acceded to, because he really loved the youth. He then called into the office, one by one, six of his confidential clerks, the gentlemen who had been specially engaged with him in investigating the old accounts, who, in reply to his question, said that Mr. Wynn never left the office until his final departure, which was very late, and that they watched him going out though unperceived. The care-taker gave evidence that Mr. Wynn did not return after his departure. When they had completed the evidence, Mr. McLiver asked, “And what were you doing at the office that time of night?”