Some time later, however, the younger Lumley, then a chaplain in
the family of a relative of Lord G-----'s, accidentally met his uncle's
former pupil, and being of a persevering disposition, he ventured to
make a personal application on the subject.

"Now you recall the matter to me, Mr. Lumley, I do recollect
something of the kind. I remember one day, giving my tutor some
musty old letter he found in the library at G-----; and by the bye he
came near cracking my skull on the same occasion!"

Mr. Lumley was not a little pleased by this confirmation of the story,
though he found that Lord G----- had not even read the letter, nor
did he know any thing of its subsequent fate; he only remembered
looking at the signature. Not long after the meeting at which this
explanation had taken place, Mr. Lumley received a visit from a
stranger, requesting to see the MS. Life of Otway in his possession.
It was handed to him; he examined it, and was very particular in his
inquiries on the subject, giving the chaplain to understand that he
was the agent of a third person who wished to purchase either the
original letter if possible, or if that could not be found, the MS.
containing the copy. Mr. Lumley always believed that the employer of
this applicant was no other than that arch-gatherer, Horace Walpole,
who gave such an impulse to the collecting mania; he declined
selling the work, however, for he had thoughts of printing it himself.
The application was mentioned by him, and, of course, the
manuscript gained notoriety, while the original letter became a
greater desideratum than ever. The library at G----- was searched
most carefully by a couple of brother book-worms, who crept over it
from cornice to carpeting; but to no purpose.