OUR UNCLE'S MONEY.

Observer, Volume 5, Issue 119, 23 December 1882, Page 241

OUR UNCLE'S MONEY.

IBBFUIi'fSTOiBY OF CHEISTMAS TIME. I. ' THE STTStMO ST S. .' ; ' .garden, Blope upon the southern side of : Itill : at its lower end a delicious tangle rd, long grass, and underwood, russetiers, and common ferns.•'up, the gnarled and twisted old appleekwith rosy fruit, give place by degrees p of gooseberry and curfant.bushes and. greenery} .until these, in their turn, f a high boxed border," sweet and gay. ing lavender, gilly-flowers, cabbage-roses, •8, hqliyhocks, and, the hbmlier order of reasures, terminate in a smooth, wellthis' look several windows of a quaint, raed, irergular red,- bricked cottage, latched and partly tiled, with honeyd many a sweet-scented creeper clamberd the. angles, and even going some way c stack of twisted chimneys ; the whole and orchard— surrounded by lbss-grown wall which, on the front or I, side of the domain, is bright and iii Spring with overhanging lilac and i, whilst, where the antique iron gate:es a gap, a great arch of ivy marks the to this pleasant home : one pf those adeed, which, rural and unpretentious, ye been found hi many a London suburb r of a century back, but which, alas, If nigh disappeared how, since the bverf wave Of bricks and mortar has swept the great . city, * like ■ the, ever -widening . the surface of a lake, when rising fish irown stbhe disturbs its placid waters, is a wooden summer-house, also in armbny with its . surroundings, save that s roof has been recently repaired with a somewhat too new and pver^bright red Bstling snugly under.the shade of a big midway on the slope, betwixt orchard leii-gajderi, it overlooks. that well-known, ich) terminates with St. Paxil's, dimly — with chimney-stacks, towers, and orpugh the long line of murky, dusky et retreat for toil worn citizen, or any. r the gentler, simpler ways of life, ilarly suited as a background does it i the figure,' seated .at the rustic; the little arbour on the soft; September i when out tale begins. He is, an aged »bly hale-looking, broad-shouldered man seventy-five, with keen brown eyes, and, bat snjug old-fashioned aspect in dress .'befitting the retired well-tb^do. man of that- all who have any acquaintance, thew, Rickman know. him to be. Open im lies a small memorandum-book, in (seems to be adding, up some figures ; le • him,, with ink-bottle and a tray of a few scattered. papers. Now and then,' auses of his calculations, he strokes his yph chin, or. toys with his mutton-chop pure white whisker, and the quiet cxof satisfaction with which from time to obks put upon the view, tells of cohtenti.bbth.place and circumstances. Yet in and round the corners of his mouth a c. observer, might detect some .signs, of ealth, and there is. at. times a knitting of s and a, raising of the_ garden-hat, which ggest occasional twinges of paiin passing -j forehead. The clock of the neighboured, chimes but the half-hour past five, Ist. the sound dies away oh the delicate raws 'from his fob, by its broad ribbon eh of seals,' a large old-fashioned gold jgutcn, to, compare the time. Presently he is deep t-tts,, figures again, when footsteps approaching >ng7 the wincUng gravel path that leads down Wiethe cottage, to the summer-house divert his <ention, and, hastily- gathering up some of the itf-eired -papers, he places them with a certain ;7pf secretivehess under the book he is examin'Ypu are^home earlier to-day, George,' says p Matthew Rickinan, looking 'up towards the •tmte.bf'a young man rand woman, who' had by pis'; ti^ie come within speaking distance. , J p'Aj little,, sir, perhaps ; we haye .■h ad rather a K^c?£';4ay at !the bank,' answered the former, a Kl^saut,- ,, biue7eyed, fair-haired young fellow, witli, a; somewhat weak and changeless expression- bf face;, ' His tall hat an d tight-fitting plack, fisbek-cbat^ „< apart; from, his remark,, pro•t^&L^himrstraight'from thie city. g/;I;am nbt sorry either,' he resumed*, stretching, ||^B*elf'. with 'ah air of weariness ;•«' and I haVf/ §petf;ia ; little disappointed and vexed;' 1 §!^!7hp* sb:P'- : - : o : -7 •'• ;x. ■■ ■■• ; " 7 ;- ■ mit^vfij.) .father/ quieHy; answered the- young as ; she7^eritfer6d^the "summer-house and. , ;-hand : ; geritly ,'j. bn they; old man's ; 'to* gist 7 ! a;step7thro'ugh7]Srr' Gore's re-, r 7 Aijd" now-;nt ; -hasy been : given to/ )Mor^and,:'|bf :' course; lie T-feels : it' : as

Rickman somewhat vacantly ; 'bat it will come, it will come. He's better off where he is, anyhow, than if he had been in a Government office.' ' O, I question that, sir,! broke in the younger man.'' ■ '' '■ 'But I don't,' was the rather sharp response. 'You have at least the satisfaction of working with a clear conscience; you are not idling your time in reading the newspaper all day, wasting stationery, and robbing your country, as you would have been if your father had got you a post under Government. You know my opinion of the way Government offices are managed, and Government too, for the matter of that. I have no patience with the waste and reckless expenditure that go on in all departments, whilst we hard-working folks have to pay treble the taxes we need. No, George, I, really don't think T should ever have consented to your marrying my Alice here if you had been a Government clerk.' ' Then, sir, I am very glad things are as they are,' said Mr George Wood wya^ smiling, whose position in this family group is thus made evident. 'Here, Bennie, come along, here's daddy, he went on, as a bright little curly-haired boy of about three came toddling down the path, and ran into her father's arms. . .' Shall we go in now and have tea ? and grandfather will come in at six, won't he ?' The father; carrying his child, strolled up towards the house. His wife lingered to say an affectionate word or two, and to kiss tenderly and with solicitude her parent's cheek. He patted her hand kindly, but with some anxiety, evident in hia action, that she should not catch sight of the contents of his memorandum-book. „ Alice Woodwyn was a tall and graceful woman of about* five-and-twenty, having her father's eyes and mould of features. Her profusion of warm brown ringlets were restrained in their evident tendency to fly out wildly by a cunninglvdevised band bf delicate blue ribbon, ending in the neatest and most coquettish of bows. There was a rather sad expression on her gentle comely face as sho -joined her husband in the little parlour opening upon the lawn .; and as she busied herself in making tea and arranging the details of the ample meal spread upon the^ snowy table-cloth, she said, ' • , . 'I don't think father seems quite so well as '•■ usual, Geoi-ge-; I have noticed for the last two or- three days something rather strange about him ; I feci a little anxious.' 'I don't see it,' answered her husband from he easy-chair- into which he had thrown himself, whilst dancing the.little boy upon his knee ; 'you know he is at times somewhat petulant iri his manner, especially when he gets on the subject of taxes and the Government. It was a great pity he' retired from This business so soon ; he has never been quite happy since.' 'Ah, no, indeed j but his uhhappinesa began some time bef ore that. It was- poor dear Tom's rash determination to go to sea that was his first great sorrow ; I mean his first great sorrow since he lost my dear mother.: Silly lad ! only to think, of hia turning his back upon such good prospects, such a business a3 my father's was for him to step into, besides causing so much grief and anxiety !' ' Yes, he was a great fool, no doubt,' answered the husband ; 'but it's an old story now, it's no use talking of that ; why, Torn has been away more than ten years, I suppose.' ' Yes ; but father has never got over it ; he never seemed to tako the same interest in his business afterwards.' ' Still,' said George, ' I say it was a great pity he gave it up. He ia always hankering after it now — can't cut himself adrift. As you know, he is constantly going into the city and pottering about ; I -wonder what he finds to do in there so .often. . By-therbye, that reminds me. Judkins told me that he met him in Lombard-street nearly every day during the whole fortnight we were away last month at Broadstairs ; and he had always got 'his little blue bag. with him. I wonder what he does there. Judkins asked if I could guess at all. Everybody wonders at him.' 'Well, then, it's a pity everybody has not something better to do,' said Mrs Woodwyn. .'I suppose my father can go into the city when he likes, without: consulting everybody ?' ' Yes, certainly. But now tell me, Alice, does it never occur to" you as strange ? and do you never think what it is that can take him there so frequently? One 7 would think your woman's curiosity would at least be excited.' .? Perhaps it would, George, if I did not love my fei/Hor as dearly as I do. He has always been bo. good and ' kind and loving to me all my life, that T have striven never to cause him even the least anxiety if I could help it, and much more not "to do what; l know he dislikes above all things i and you kabw there is nothing/ he so much dislikes as any prying into his doings or his ; affairs. Therefore I never appear to take any heed .to 'his going or corrling j I never even ask hiln where he baß been, much less what he has done; because I knowhe iso > particularly dislikeait.' '' ' 7 .'Just Jike.yoji, nay., dear cloying. -jvife-^always' I .striving to; .make ..people; happy.' I'm a,; stupiii blundering fellow ;i ,to i; ; have Tasked you • t might) ; haye " known- all "yQu/iaye 7said . without .your ,

saying it. Ah, there's, six o'clock striking i let's have tea. Come, Bennie, you shall sit between daddy and grandfather ; he'll be here in a minute.' But several minutes passed, and the old gentleman did not appear. Then said the mother, ' Run down and tell grandpapa that tea is ready, Bennie ; he will be late.' 'It will be for the first time in his life, then,' broke in George. .'No, sit still, Bennie,' a 9 the child was about to move ; ' grandfather is halfway here by this time, I'll be bound. He is not* the man to break an appointment, whether for business or pleasure. If he had not been as punctual as the day throughout his long life, he would never have turned that little hosiery business in Cheapside into, the fine concern it became';, no, nor have; made all the money he did in other ways.' ' What other ways do you mean, dear ?-' asked his wife j ' has he made much money in other ways ?'• ' Oh, of course. Don't ybu know, Alice, that it was he, and one or two more men of his stamp, who laid the foundation of much of our most remunerative intercourse with the silk trade of China? And though his name has never been prominent in the affairs, it is said that he has been their backbone; if he had lived fifty or sixty years earlier he would have been just such a sort of man as'^ie old East Indian directors were. Lord bless my heart ! people in the city, who know more of these things than I do say he must be worth a mint of money. He , is rather late, though/ went on Woodwyn, after a minute's pause ; perhaps you had better run and fetch grandfather, Bennie ; he can't have heard the clock.' And the child scampered away through the low open window. • A few minutes pass, and he is baok again, breathless, frightened, and sobbing. f What is the matter, my darling? what is the matter ?' cries the mother, taking him up in her arms. ■■•",• ' Grandpa, grandpa,' gasps out the little one — • grandpa won't 'peak; grandpa tumbled down on table!' •■-... In a moment husband and wife are flying down to the summer-house. At a glance they see the child's words are true, for there, prone across the table at which he has been writing, helpless speechless, unconscious, lies the dear, kind, old man, his body partly resting against the chair, the pen still in the outstretched hand, as it lies across a sheet of paper, slightly smeared with the last touch of ink. To raise him and loosen his stiff high white neckcloth is the work of an instant on George's part, whilst Alice, bending over the distorted face, calls loudly for help. , . It cornea, of course, in time, and Matthew Rickjnan is laid upon his deathbed;, for he never recovers consciousness, and within four-and-twenty hours of his apoplectic seizure his spirit passes peacefully away. For oneTmoment at the, last the glazed eyes turned with the faintest look of recognition to the face of - the loving and heart-stricken daughter ; a slight twitching of the mouth, as if he would have spoken some words of farewell, ' a momentary expression of anxiety, and all was over. CHAPTER 11. THE DISAPPOINTMENT. Beyond and entirely apart from the deep sorrow into which the little home at Highgate was plunged for many months after the death of its oldest inmate, there was interwoven with the grief a sense of amazement at the obscurity in which Matthew Rickman had left his affairs,; an amazement, it may be said, not limited to the region of Highgate, where so old a resident was of course almost as well known as the church spire, but extending into many an'influential commercial circle in the city. As may have been gathered from the words' of his. son-in-law, George Woodwyn, Mr Matthew Rickman was supposed— nay, by those who were best informed, was ' known — to have amassed considerable wealth ; yet, except in regard to a comparatively small sum, no clue was discovered to indicate what he had done with it, Or in what securities it had been invested . He left no will,' and never seemed to employed a lawyer, having himself arrahged the disposal of his business in Cheapside and most other matters. At onetime he had.a cphfidjentiaVclerk, or head man; who had been in his employ for a* long while and might have known something about' his master's affairs ; but, he too was dead, had died very :sobn after the business, had passed into'; other hands. ' Such memoranda and accounts as were found with Mr Matthew Rickman's effects we:re couched ih terms so mysterious, and set down in trade:and .private masks so securely, that it was evident they were hot intended to be understood' by any bne save their owner — that .is, with but this a' very notable one." 7 ,' 7T' l '- xy > " :, X--'"A-A' : yA'\X Amohgst 7 the papers picked ,^up.m the. siimmer-hp-ase, after the: confusion eiißwng upon, sad catastrophe which, happendTthere; had- passed aWayJ was ; a^ -certain she'et bf f foplßpap,*whidh; from ■ Tthe u fport haha upbnit a^d;the:smear of ink across. it»Tap r -beared to he tha^;ohwhic^ 7 been' in^^hc>; abt' of writing* : -when i ' hand >,ahd ; brain ' '-'yrete. ab, suddenly paralyzsed;T Whether *;he T^Ml

: induced to, write, what, he did Ifrom not feeling well, or whether he had received, some prevision of what was going to: befall, him, or' whether, merely after his own eccentric fashion he .conceived that the time had come for , him 7te r make some arrangements by which those who, were;; tb follow, him 'could inherit his property, will never be known ; . but certain it is that he seemed to have been struck by the : difficulties, that would arise through his dying intestate, and that lie desired in some sort to repair his error, for thus • ran the document in question:— " Highg: ate, Sept. 1849. • Having for many years been of the firm opinion that the English people are too heavily and unjustly taxed, . through the reckless maladministration of ■ the finances of the country by a selfish and corrupt Government, and haying in my time more, than amply contributed my share towards swelling the enormous revenue collected from unnecessary large duties and taies annually levied, I am determined that when I die no more, of, my property shall pass to the credit of the Statb iii the shape of >■ probate or legacy duties. Therefore I have made no will, bnt by. this my deed of gift. I- make over to my youngest and ,best-beloved child, Alice WOodwyn, the sum of £1500, and a like sum to my much-misguided but alwaysafleotionately remembered son, Thomas BiOkman, at present supposed to be sheepfarming in Australia j and that, farther, when it. .is possible to convey to him. the said sum of - £1500, 1 request that he may be told at the same time that, notwithstanding the grief his wayward conduct caused . me, I, in ' these my last days, heartily forgive him, and pray. that the ALrpighty may do, the same, and in future guide his footsteps back,to~ " those paths of rectitude and obedience whence he has so sadly strayed. Also, I hereby give to my little grandson, Benjamin Woodwyn, the sum , of £1000, to be k&& by his parents in trust for him until he be L Of age', or until he shall marry with their full consent and appi-o-val. These three snms in gold will be found; each tied up in a- separate bag, and labeled with" the names of those for whom they are intended, in the small iron safe at my bed-head; the key of the safe (alßO. labeled) is attached to the bunch' I always carry in my. pocket. That my children only may understand how the ,main ! bu— " ■'-.'.,- Here the writing ceased.! .The incomplete, word ended with an irregular upward stroke, of the pen, which was partly smeared, probably , by the, coat-cuff as the helpless hand slid suddenly across the paper. -.--,.- ! -, That Matthew Rickman shonld. haVe : died worth no more than £4000, everybody said; -was . simply absurd ; nay these written directions,; this deed of gif t-rcall the paper what you pl^aj-je-f---clearly indicated that the writer:,wa9 gpihgTon 'to say something about , " the maih . .bulk ' of his property. All who saw .-, the unfinished, writing were unanimous* in interpreting ,'bu-r^T^sT the . beginning of the word 'bulk,' and this, ; from .the context, it was. quite natural to conclude would have been followed by 'of my property.'^ ,TBut at the critical moment the summons had pome ! As the momentous sentence hung upon the ,pje*n's , point, the fingers guiding it had relaxed, : aiid the dictating, busy, .plotting mind became as meaningless a blank as the remainder of the unwritten .' pafee-' '; " ■■"■ ■■' •-\ '" /'. .- - ''„ - Despite the. most minute search and inquiry, extending over two or three years, as to : what, the old gentleman had done with the presumed mass . of his wealth, nothing came of it ; not a sjign, not a hint could beobtained. Itwasbrought to light - that several large sums at different periods had been secretly presented by him to various; chari- . ties ; indications that he had constantly beendping good by stealth in many , directions crppped up^ all going. to confirm the wide-spread opinion. that he had large resources to draw upon, but .not ih the least leading to an idea of . where! those resources were deposited. 7:7 The£4ooo, divided, as the paper described, into three portions, were in the iron safe sure enough. . t When the canvas bags were emptied j four thouand bright new golden sovereigns in three gift- . tering heaps lay upon the tables-ran, amazing daz •? ling sight this, truly, to unaccustomed- eyes, ,but to those of the experienced bankf clerk, .George Woodwyn, suggesting nothing for the firs7t moment so. much asoheckibg by a careful counting, the correctness of the amounts j sand,, of bourse, they were correct to the last' sovereign. , , , ,7 . . ■_■ No contemptible sum either ,£pr 'humble Hvera '-', in: content, such as -George, and his wife were • • and it was with a grateful heart that he prepared" T to place his wife's and his. child's portion in, aa he thought, some more profitable plape of security than an iron safe.. Still, -without any, mean,' •'. • repining or covetous feelipg with regard tp. what they had naturally supposed sthey .would com© into, it was impossible for. them to baiu'sh all sense v of disappointment. . The ever-fecurring questiptt as to what the old man could have" done vvith .,- hia money .would ih itself have kpptt his sense alive. ; .The he'er-40-weel rehe'g^^ who, with all.his faults, was not a.bad fellow;afc , i heait,and ..very fond of hjs sister^ had never, en- .■ tirely broken off communication withhpmp. '■] His/ k , father, in his anger, had forbidden tile, Mention j- of 'the lad's , name; from the time he quitted.Eng^ ."' i laUd7tQ ; ;go as a. common seamen before tbTeTmast.. '•'.'- --i But to'his sister Alice he had Tfroin -tiroe, tp '; time 5 7 .. .written j, and when, by his_;last letter, he showed • that/he had, after a. fashion, managed' torn a. stare iv sheep-farmi^ . p-rospebt.bf doing well, she had, ventured, to put „ .theidetter.: intOoher, father's hands. lie read! it :■ b;ut.hegaye,;it;baek, without anyrerhaik. 'f^^?7 -*•;'. 7 -.'Nevertheless, it., seenied he had not iorWtfcea ti it.-7rtThu3 meaus, ,.we7re open for : sending tlip-jBJt&C)/ /: 1, to Tbni without 'much . j'di&cuity ; and-.the,.- lov^&T x, I ) sister%;dping,,. t sb,7we i] ,ofhe*.hearfc;.m'a^ i }:br^tlier. would p^^^

, MvA generosity;, and many ah earnest .--heimight be spared to return to his native^p^| ■y»7ithih twelve months of OldTMatthew's^^^li 1 Lthe' Woodwyns knew,that Tom had receivep|he; mo^ey safely. He Vrote : ' - '. 7 '&*A ' "fit -has come in the very nick of time, and by ] its , mefins you' will seel'shall coin a fortune that.shallbe . large enough^before l have'doneto compensate,us,aUfpr, the lamentable loss 'we Isus€a-hi''thrpugh.:.1 sus€a-hi''thrpugh. : . th|s^ccenwi<3; ' any mysterioue-vcrotchetseni^rtaind pV -■- my.- father lfa. all 'money matters, though. 'I >, don't despair >of . your coming upon some trace yet of the ; tbalfc' b^ n^v,Ss9* nerty. /What I have gbt,>however, I. shall invest in. this farinmg iuisnoss, in -fehicli I'ain a-parther With , a man - wHom'l picked up out here, and who, like myself, had. 1 nothing ,tp begin with ; but we shall both be rich men mMtne, aiidthen, but not till then, my dear and loving Alice^yon will see mein England again.' : v So be it ! , I hope Tomwillnbt be disappointed • ifcis-^me.>hiaJu^bx«iwU«^^ came this My I shbiildnot besorryi'was George 1 Woodwyn's remark when he had read the letter. ' What do you mean ?' inquired Alice. mine seems tb be^deserting me. v T did'n^of'intend tbtell you aboht it, but, you see^ it's* bf no use my 'attempting to. keep anything from ybu) thb fact' is, I have had another disappointment in the bank' this very day! There have been more promotions, owing tb, the opening of the new branch^' bub lam again passed over. I suppose 'Jt- shall, be left out' in the cold now till I am an bld'man'.T I'm sure its very "fortunate we have no h<->uße-rent to pay, for Ishall get no rise in salary for years, I can see.' "•'. ' Now,.dear, don't begin to worry yourself, please, about money ; we shall do very well even if you doh't-get an. increase, though it is hard for you ; ihut. we, shall always have this roof to, cover us, thanks to my dear mother's foresight in making her-father leave this' little freehold to me at her death. . At -any rate we can never be turned put o^f house and home ; besides, there willbe dividends. coming in from mine and Bennies portion of dfear. fathers money.' ' 7.- . •j - . , 'Yes, yes; I know, all .about that:, not but •what;l see the shares in the "Wheal- Grydd Copper;; Mining Company" , have ' gradually been going down, and they are now at five or six lower than when we : bought in, not quite a year; ago. I daye say I am foolish j but there' seems, to be a •run - of bad luok with usjust' hpw — that's all I meant to say j think no more about it.' ; . But alp ving wife has sharpened ; perceptions, and r jvill easily divine tho state, of; her. husband's inihd, strivehe ever so earnestly to hide it; and though Alice Woodwyn. gave little heed to the tone in which ;Gebrge.had referred to the.maitter of luck on- this occasion, the first suspicion that hehad some anxiety.whibh : he was keeping from her was, raised by it,.': This. suspicion increased after some months, when she observed* not only that there was a saddened look creeping over her husband's 1 kindly face, but a constant inclination on -his part to refer to the ill-luck which he conceived was'besetting them;' : • -:".'-.:•- - however, of little more than three years after they were left alone in their -fcoine'a real anxiety 'arose, 'which '■ tbuched both "husband and wife more nearly perhaps than they ; •had- ever felt. The little ' boy Bennie- became; dangerously ill, and after the fever which struck; ft-inv down had' passed he remained in ' sadly deli- 1 •cate health for many months; He had to bel taken'to sea for change- of air ; dnd what. with! thisj and the heavy expenses; pf- medical attend-; -' ance (for the first doctors- in -London were coh-| - 6ulted) ,• it was indeed found that their • income: •was barely Sufficient to meet the heavy strain upon: -it." "Eor -it must never be forgotten that though; ihe; mother ; r and son's portion,' amounting to| £2^oo of old Matthew's money, had yielded by! "its investment in the "Wheal Grydd Company "j fair dividends" Up -to this time, 'they were s,nbtj equivalent to the share the old grandfather had? contributed to the expenses of the home/Jandj which of bourse had entirely ceased. thrbugh;thej unhappy ' mystery in which he had chosen - to ■ eh«t ; velop his affairs.' . .*• . ,:!:;.-.',.,.' :;- ; " T ; By way of adding- to the Woodwyn'fl* anxieties^ Tnewrhttd come that Tom Rickmari's! -venture with' the sheep-farming was going wrong:^ ■ A,murrainjhad broken Out, by which he had lost large sums;! „ - whilst;, to put the finishing 3troke to their lhifor-i tunes, the dividends from -the.' ' Wheal -l.QrJ7dc| ' Compahy'suddenly ceasedi*there;being'a check ih the-mining opferations.* *' :■"[. ; - f•.' ■ Nearly a year before another little baby, had arrived tp take Bennies old place in Alice's lovt • lUgarms, and the thought that 'prrvatipa should - conic upon his heart's treasures, sharpened th^ * keeu edge bf poor G-eorge's accumulated troubles! -, " •" By the time, therefore, that the fifth Christmas ' after Mr ; Rickman's death was coming round,' we ■findthe Woodwyns really in somewhat straitened -circumstances. Still Bickly, Bennie has this O^utumn failed to get.his-usual breath of sea-air; . it could not be afforded, arid this deprivation left ' its mark, on the pallid cheeks of both mother and u sOn. As if, too; to bear out the adage that misi- ' fortunes neve come alone, one gloomy November : afternoon^ George, returning from the city more - " deprbssbd than ever, has to make a clean breast - of his troubles, Unable any longer to evade the ■tender questionings and appealing looks of his '"■wife.; '' ';' " ■ ■ ■ ■ * *I don't know what we shall do, darling,' he •said j. 'but that 'abominable mining company, Rafter gradually showing signs of decreasing, prosperity, the shares going steadily down month by month, so that I should -have lost hundreds of your's and dear, Bennies money if IThad sold^— though t ought to* have had the pluck to realise 7my loss long ago— has finally come to such a pass ' -that every one in the city says there must be ;a ■call on the shares soon, I have foreseen . this for; - months, I may say for years, and yet I have been • -.such an idiot, I could not makeup my mind to • -jell.' ■;.■'■■ ■'-. "' '■■'■-, '■' :■ ---;;. *'T am grieved for you; my. poor George/sa^d ;T- Alice, 'more than I can say; but we must not let trouble take away all our hope and strength : * we need both. And we should not forget, the . T-^ar bright days "we have .known now- that •toS;, have -to : face -unflinchingly many a dark ■ ai^T-'drbary One'; for' I - too' haye only ,sad vT^g^s ; 't6 tell. By Ahe mid-day post came a ;^^^^r from poor Tom;;' he "has lost all-*every the,-£l500: THis partner has rabscon--he cbuld lay hw hahdsT oh j |l*^^^^^re' A may expect. 7.Tom here,- .'bereft7 of fej^^^^^nd jiving ; wpirked -,, .^isTway ;.;h l ome . (asi ih ff T^hi^happier and younger^ days he' worked Ms ;^ay %T?

,„,,-,-,,— t ljiiiji i.i'Wl^iMiij^i. mw _ -UNjiay" . ''hea^^lcome^|§od™lij' J !siim '.ai^^Wi'^^ie hearty welcome be,%haU7ha?e, ? MeorgepOT^i both of. us, .shall he not? But j^Sther mbuthjto.feed-rwill, be—a burderi^ahd * my heart is heavy. "" xA AA' '■_.; A:A'~-' Here a" few; quiet tears stole softly dpwh Alice's cheeks, and. for a moment choked her utterance. „ UConi coming home f said George,' ' and peni- - 7less : U-v r. ■'•* ; £"'.. -AyyA^ ..".>.' £'.■&% . •£.s .■?"" ,- c --'•• ' Yes^answe]eed7the^ifej7.. s .and,he will be here "h a day; pr .two, b : efbre Cimstmas, day, if '„thb|hip -makes as good, a run as. he expects-; '.This . -wasient b£ tlie. mail which started.'a we'pk'before he was to sail.' ' 7- . 'Well, well, well, dear>ifie,' said poor George, ,'he is.your .brother, has your .dear eyes and kind heart, we know ; such as we have heshallshare; r God,-'no 'aMn~can«rabL4iß,of..,tihfi.J[9Xe^ . that has hallowed these walls to lis for many a year past. Let us thank him - that we stand here together with one heart and one hope, and not a ■ .Other.!,,. „, /., . .<.,...,,. . Spmehpw, notwithstanding their gloomy prospectSj'this opening of heart tp heart gave to each a fortitude which 'sent them to sleep that night more peacefully perhaps than had been the case for a loug while past, CHAPTER 111. THE LTJCIt., Chri6tmas-eve, in this the most memorable of all years for. the Woodwyu household, fell upon a. Sunday. The long-anticipated fatal call on the shares had come about a fortnight previously, and the poor drudging bank-clerk, unprpmoted yet, save by a very slight step, had met it with great, difficulty and many sacrifices ; but he returned to his little home at Highgate on the Saturday night, determined that at least for the next two days care should be driven from its doors, and that nothing, but. gratitude to the : Giver, of all good for what was.still left to him should fill his. heart. So, the best fare, befitting the season, that pircum'stah'ces would allow, though- falling .far short maybe' bf the'prof ilsion of some former Christmas times, had been prepared* by the careful housewife^ The ; minor portion of it-^for the great feast was, of course, not to be dreamt of till the morrow— -was being Bet forth by. degrees that Sunday afternoon upon the table in. the little parlour looking but upon the lawn and garden, all now crisp and brilliant under a fresMy-f alien canopy of snow. Alhce, carrying the Baby in her arm,s, with little Bennie galloping by her side, . was briskly moving across the floor attending to , the finishing-details of the repast; 'One of her old '; friends^ had comb; to pay them a* Christmas visit, . and was seated ih the cosy easy-chair, cheerfully i chatting of the merry Christmas eves when she: \ and Allice were girls and playmates. As far as ; the -tamiediatb moment was concerned, one thing ; ' alone slightly clouded, ihe happiness that, notwith- ' standing their troubles, beamed in the faces of our . ; friends! No further news had been heard of ; that I other lcukless and long-absent meihber of thei \ family. '-'-' '■ '"'■'," '■■ ''■• '' ''•'■ '■■'■■■■■■, ■;'■ ■ < | 'I cb'uld have wished,' said George,, ' that poor ■ Tom could have arrived in time to eat his Christ- : mas' beef' with" lis. There -would be -enough >'for ! him; and I ' had ; heartily hoped that he might; have " come' to : hand," as ! we'sayvin the city, in; tune.' ■-' '•'■"■ y' "•-.. "■■• .'■'• ■■ ■• •• .'"• ' '■'■ j ; T'The words had scarcely 'passed his ,lipsi when,; . after that f ashion- bf 7" boihcide&ce "so' necessary; , for 'stories and plays, and. which by critical readers j and aVdiehebs ''is ofteh held ; to : be artificial inj fiction, "but' Which when occurring in real life is- , 'considered only ;*.* very 'fortunate;" the hell at the oui^i? gate beneath the ivied arch clanged with a , boisterous peal ; aiid two ihinutes later the little; , "sit^^rpbm^WaS';dwarf^. : itfits' proportions by! '•the': appearance within its walle of; 'a huge, broad- 1 ' ;cfies^e'd,4arg^limb'edj weather-beaten- man, , sadly, ''traveli&taihed abd^battered -as- tb his. exterior,- but; with a pair ofbright pure eyes,', so full of hope; and eEeenness-tfaatf they made youn heart -ibbundj at bhce'-with! trust and joy ■;'■ ahd they: mdde> ;not| - ' Only! tfie' ; ;heart' but .the; whole 'person of., Alice' , 'W.obdwyii bound ;''for^ with the* rapidity of light-; she.'sprang towards him, find before k'.word 'obuid'b'euttered'had'fluhg her arms around- his neck,* and almost hidden his- bearded honest face, ■; by the deluge of' kisses she f poured upon it. j What a talking and hand-shaking and kissing,! : .again and, again,, hegan after, tliat ! . What a.suc-: cession of incoherent and impossibly c.odstru<sted -answers ! vplu-; able, sentences were .scattered about ! 'How, there never, seemed; to,. be4ny likelilibod of th'e^pbrformTance coming to an endand matters.settlihg dowh again! Eirst-rrif there ever could; be a first in such a complication of sayings and , doings— Tom . would take up, his little nephew witbT so much strength of arm and hand that the 'child's head appeared imperiled by the low ceiling ; then he , seemed inclined, to treat his own sister in the same way ;; and, was. not quite sure but what he would give George a hoist up in his arms, so entirely overcome was he by ■ the boisterbusness and strength, of his joy.. Nor was that of the other three less, demonstrative. They had 'thoroughly . caught the infection ; and all the time, their eyes were as full of tears as they could hold—and Mrs , Woodwyn's. didn't hold them, for they Icept running, over and streaming down her face, so that you would have thought a private cataract was somewhere at work, and was only hidden. from view by. the prof usipn of her brown curls, which now, fairly escaping the bondage of all plaits and bands, were flowing about in every direction, and getting so mixed up and entangled with her ; brother's, /locks— which were exactly the same colour j and only,. as it.seemed, a little less long^when his head shook with laughter, that the confusion of .appearance was quite as jrreat as' the , confusion of .tongues. ; ...'.",'. By- degrees,; however, a little tranquility set in,, and, when every due arrangement had been made, for everybody's cpmforfc, the whole party fell to at the :rep,ast; After.a while it was but natural that a certain amount, of reaction should follow, as we • know there Twerp ; many circumstances connected with the little group , likely to have a depressing ' influence.:; The evening, too, began to 'close' in, and.fpr.thb first -half.-hpur after ...the bharrs' were; , pulled round - the fire, and before' candlPs were > ibrought, ithe ! ; conyersatiou took rather; a gloomy ; . turii. 7 But piresentiy Tom, bringing, his' big h,and down* oh to his knees with ; a7heayy spank, said, : , the, ruddy, glow of the fire which he ;had

'j^^l^lf ')hp>^^^»e bj^^^^^' with ' Well, ..it's no.iiseTrepuiing.'^^p^^^y 4s|| maitf the best of matters. ; It istru^r^HftVh't gef| ;a penny inJtbTb world-— not a stiver ; but lam f ulh Of hope and' good health, thank God, and between us we will retrieve bur fortunes somehow. At present I am too glad to be in the dear old home tqifee. again 'ffyili ahythufg>, to Tdfepress -Boe'. -nauehi- ■ Dear heart f phl^ to,|thin:k;! s^t^hT^feaFVtsifie^.'jT was in this rpo&i-Haqa;. theii "MyrM-. bob sixteWh, years old !;'•' How small the, prae'ekokj •!;■., And this: little pet-~he , seem^ yeKylpaie iaiid; peakey, poor child! — wasn't born 7or 'thought ' bf ; 7and I had only seen you once in my lif e, Mr George, and a mightily stuck-up young prig I thought you — 'casting sheep's eyes even-then- at Alice-; not but was. nearly^ as tall at fourteen as she is now— -yes !' looking straiglir'aF'Eis" "sister" and' patting her cheek : but ypu „don? t look quite so plump and rosy in the face as you -did then, you poor darling!. But we'll bring the roses back somehow yet!" '"' '"""" *"••■•-' ■--•■• •■'«—-• -■•■-. ■-- "I don't know how you are going to do it, ; ;Tom,' she answered sadly.' -'When I v think of how affairs stand with us all, there comes a great knock at my heart in the midst of my gladness at having you back again.. What a great big fellow you hove grown ! — I can't help looking at you. I should never have. known you but for. your eyes ; and they are as always, exactly like dear, father's. Ybu will be the image of him when you are as old.' •-■-, ••.. -..-,■ ■ ■ _' 'Ah, in- looks perhaps ; but lam afraid that's all I follow him in,' answered the brother., ' I feel like a- horrid brute as I sit here,- and remember the misery I caused the dear old chap. I can see him sitting over, there where George is as plainly — ah, well ! its of no use talking .'about it ; out I suppose if it hadn't heen for me he would have managed differently about his money. Yes, lam the cause of the trouble all round. You would," no doubt, have been well off but for me.' '•' Dbn't say so, Tom,' chimed in George ; 'it's bad luck, but we can't tell ; you must not accuse yourself of too much. ; You ■ arid L must goon Working hard ; that's all it comes to;' , .•.,;. ' Yes,' slowly ailswered the buriy sailor, after a pause 5 'but it's very strange to- think that nobody has any idea, of What; he did with . all his savings; Dear heart ! it's very curious !! * Then there was a'silence for a long while... But when the candles came ;the talk went on again, risibg at times into merriment, and again lapsing to' the sadder key, but ever, hinging of course Upon the return home, -the adventures abroad, and all that had happened during these long years. The' Christmas-eve waned ; little Bennie -went to bed ; and finally, bed - time came, for all. Alice and George both saw ' their brother •up to ; the little room which for many day's, .past had I been. "ready for him. He never seemed' weary of gazing about him. at all the old familiar domestic objects- the passages,*the stairs, the rooms* Just 'as they were bidding " good-night," Tom turned to his sister arid Baid, -.:■ -• : ,- ;, ■'.••* 'And the garden, : Alice — is; that- much, the same ? All the queer gnarled apple-trees just as • they were?'- '"'■'■ •• ••■ .-•- -.*.--■■ v- - - ;•..'■ >y-, „ -' ■ 'Yes,' she answered-; * f but >l-don?t often go down there -now;;' it has-been sadly neglected of •late years'.''.':-' •- "' ;■ .*• .* ' yx'r ... t .*» -, •*,.:'' '■.'■-" ' And the doll's nest?', went on- the brother — . ; 'is that still in existence ?' „•.?:,!.,..;;.•.;,'. ' The'what ?? inquired GTeorge from thethlfesh-; old bf the room iwhere he was standing. ; * : •' The doll's 'nest,' repeated-Tom. 1 ; ■' Do ;• youj mean to say that Alice; riever<.told -ybu anything; about' the doll's best ? Why, i we .used to ]have; , rare fun there ! 'Wensed to sit in-the dolTsne'st: for hours together* when -she. and^l were children — didn'twe- Alice ?'■• •■■■■■:< '•:*.v.'i • ;. : ■-' ■ ..-;' ', ...;.- , 'Never heard *of,it*,'Tfiaid; George.,.. -■ ':•'.>■:.•, T. I , '. - ' Oh it was only a. queer old.boleah the. largest* apple-tree,'- broke in Alio6 ;•-, .' it made d. rough sort; . of seat, and Tom 'used to;lift{mb;up:,into iti and; put '-.Ms-arm -' round my '■> iwai*% ; and ,hpl.d* me in. alonside him, and we used; tb! call > ut , " the i,doll ? s; 'uestj-'^ that's ail.' 'I hayp given its -a ithqught; for years ;• but it is- thefb stilly I have- no. doubt.' 1 ; ' Well, ! I have bft'erithoiighttJOfifit, said , To m;; 'thought • of it when TveV. been of; ■miles away, the Other 'sidebf •■■ the- glpbe^ thought; Of it and dreamt -of it frequenttyVaiidjotf and;. IS ; sitting in it, dear.' , ■ '"; •••'•■'••.•,. i- j ■ 'i'Well.ThaTenever'heardof^ti'repeated^eorge;] 'but good-hight nbw,old ; boy.<' 'I'niyery.gladyouJ are back again/ safe and',sound,Oiice more.-' AA; , And not long 'after,, everybody/ was fastYasTeep,;. , and stillness reigned throughtf the hojusei .' • t! With Christmas ■ morning i the -conversation : seemed inclined to rise to the ihappy key. Every thing favoureda joyous -tone 'of ' talk; the * sun shone bright and clear,- and set, the snow and the icicles sparkling like -jewels! ■■ Little Bennie looked freshbr and better, his mather said, than he had done for weeks. She thought his uncle's return had begun to act like a tonic on the child. Alice herself likewise seemfed tb have taken a dose of iti f Or there was a genuine . happiness in her face to which it had long been a stranger. As to the sailor, he had so brushed himself up, and ; , polished his brown cheeks with soap arid water, that he was hardly recognizable for the travel-stained wanderer of the evening before! ! ' ' ' , * ' ' - ' " ' ' George Woodwyn alone, had failed to catch thi^s infection of beaming looks. He had a medetative absent air about, him, quite unusual, and ate his breakfast without seeming i-p,khbw what he was doing. To all inquiries as to.wtiat was the matter he answered 'Nothing:' there, was nothing the matter with him, not a bit. of it ; but it took him some time even to reply thus much; and the strangeness of his manner continued long after breakfast was finished, and.ail the way to church, and was quite observable even -in church; and Alice went so far as to nudge her brother several times during, the service, as much as to say,'' Dp you see how strange he is, still?' And Tbm would respond by raising, his, eyebrows y f and the child was caught by them both watching his father, and wondering what it' could all mean! 'Eor, .let it'be clearly understood; there was rip expression of unhappiness on his face ; oh the contrary, there was almost a smile; playing Oyer it' ai" times, as though he wereTthirikihg - 'aboiitr something, not Jaitpgether unpleasant thd,t he^biild'inbtTfbrget. ; ; T W^en phurchTwas .oye^,'dn^ ■"' turning' through vthe i'.''(^^7'ele*«;,ißury-,.fey^bbdy7' now a littlb silent uridej; the linfluei^e of ;Giaorge ? s '

strange manner, he himself .suddenly .^Btj^Hl „the.middle of the quiet lane which was lllBBi)! |fl£jsjkpme. He planted his um.brejla^'^fiaiai^^pf jj|n 'W^b of him, as if to give additiohal'f^K? he was evidently abbuttpsay, ini^KT looking with the most serip-cdmio .bipresgfiJlMp? sible, first at his wife on the left, and thenl«K lj T brother, who was on the right, began : 7'"7|H' ; 'J-must tell 'your-sJ.- can'Xkee^itTany'^B 7. '.Yo'uiT^u); |6th#laugh^t|-ai;e f^a^y-a||iMT ineUQidj-'tpll&u^hl.ai^-JI: my|ielf,7arid^ye|^|i3HT laiighin^ iUatter^V^t}.^B^^^d)^^t7.l- "wo-ijiH telPyon j but • I-7pan|vjabt|||paKOl,it am||S must, put with it. > 7 llii^ f^t?i"s',tp;*.saw;gr»^®»^H , last- night!' - ' ".- ''■ '-\H- ' Saw grandfather I What do you mean ?' mm both sides. . ..-• - y ''"'-v./.' ., ytt .■ ' What I say. I saw grandfather, old Mr«| theW Rickman, as plainly. as~l ever saw himyß 'Why, you are dreaming George,' said his jH 'No, you were dreaming,' cried Tom. . B - * 'Well, you may choose to say -so,- and -to'tjjfi so,' went oh the speaker, ' bufc.tl^re hewaß,BM ing at the foot of our bed ; arid if I was dreatS — why, then life' a dream, for. I, never saw M thing more real since I. was, born.' .* , . '.■;.■ George was so earnest in his assertion, thaiflj listeners were distinctly impressed. At least™. was, for his sister soon began to laugh ; bufS brother, on the contrary, grew graver and gtsflß and after fixing his eyes on the ground' {M minute looked up inquiringly, saying; ,fi ' Did he speak ?' ■ .' Yes,' answered George seriously ; ' and tJB what seems so convincing. 'If I had only seen ia I might have' thought it a dream; but I 'haH him as plainly as I saW him.' "Am 'What did he say*?' asked the sailor solenuffi 'Why,' went on George Woodwyn, ■ heaH these words, though what oh earth they toiaS can't tell, but he said distinctly, " Shoot an arTSf from the doll's nest." " M*. Tom, giving a perceptible start,, looked afcm| sister : she was grave now, and returned his l-Sp Then, for a minute; chey bbth seemed 'to'bg^E thei same track of .thought,' arid the 'family likesS always strong between them," appeared stroiffl than ever, whilst the expression in each of tm faces was identical. ' IS 'How odd!' at length they both exclaimed in breath. Alice 'continued':! . H ' Don't yoii remember, Tom, we used to slj-M with our bows and arrows down amongst the M apple arid pear trees ?' M lOf course t do,* was the answer ; ' havelejS forgotten those days ? and what's more, dbri'fcj*ffl remember why we once shot an arrow from W do.ll's ries't itself ?','•'' ' M Alice dropped her eyes' iii thpught for a seeoaH then said, 'To be, sure j when we hid our moritH 7 Her, brother nodded : " Yes, and father saVtfi aridlaughed at Pur queer pranks/ ' H Then there wa.3 another f pause, when ' Geoijffl inoving on down the lane, saidr ' Well,, what'lufi all this got to do with my dJreaini if you chbbselß ,call it a dream ?' ' . . , '".'''■ . • ,B ut he received no answer for several morne* - ™ during' which Tom ; Was rturmuring to MmiS again, and again," as if in dbep bbgitation, c Oanß be possible ? can it be possible! ?' J '','■ ' dan what be possible ?' tie was asked.' : '''■"■ 'Just this,' he said : '' W had a common montSj box, Alice ahd I, and we' used to hide it dowhfl the bottom of the orchard,, in, the, thickest coraß of the : underwopd-r-buried it -in fact ; and M decided on the -^la^e we wbuld hide it In first 8 all by shooting ah arrow as We sat brie da} ffl /the doll's nest,', and the .spot, where the aricH Ml was to be the spot where We were tobuf yqtß box.. Then, in order to find it again '(b^Pttuse'tm never disturbed it till we had'sbmethihg'to^ffl into it, and so it was sbmbtiih'es left for a* week (8 two' together),, l; with! ihy sailor-like turn of ' hnSW took' the bearings ; thaf is, we were to gbt'the*offl stack of itwisted'chimneys on the cottage. bxaefß ori' a ( line ; with "doll's neSt I ,"' and then'twenm yards straight' away on that'liriei, do-srii towfflffl the orciiard Wall, 'was 'the .exact spot where™ should find 7 the box.' Why,; Alice, you must™ member t all this surely,' urged the speaker VarinljH ' Cei'tairdy,' she 'answered ;- * ! ifc all^omes'TbaM feffiej npwyqri speak! of it, vividly enough; "stiiS i-'.dpii,'t' quite se,e what it has to dowith Georgia 7. .. ".-•'.-'7 '7! : ' : ~-y , **".-'.-''" 'T'-'^B - '._' No, ribr I,' echoed the husband. -'■ * Be patierit, ' arid I'll tell you,' went on Toiffl 'what I think it has got to do with it; Lifbat&sS may make people superstitious. They say tfifi sailors, are sp; perhaps I. am.' T have dreamt aiifl seen many qrieer things in my time ribt alwajl quite easy tb. makb out ; butlet; that pass V "wlffl occurs to hie.noW is simply this'!'. As I said, fathffl knew of and saw our dodge about the ihdney-W)l| and it may be just possible that.iri his latter dajffl when he got a little queer and cran^,Ta's ive khfia he*, did, and with his views about pirbpbrtya^ probate duties N and so on, that he may haye p meriibered what We Jufee'd ,to' dp, and. have ddis something himself of the samb kirid. It', was thl he was going tb refer to perhaps when-h'e be^B to, write the w'ordsj "That my children! 'bhly-nTJ.] understand how the main bu—'' 1 , 1 say it is 3$ possible— odd men do odd things ; whb : wou| ever have thpught of his' having £4000 of gb| stowed away just under' his bed-head?^ -■ : ,' 7-; Tom's reasoning so excited him thatne stoppji suddenly,, looking straight, into space," sayihgri^ suppose it has never "entered your heads i^ha| a look round about the 7 garden, .to see i|;the^ were any signs of a hiding-place?'- : : '-'.',' ;';•""*' i;'! Of course it never had entered eithbr7of^hp heads, .and they said so. ■_ . 7 ;,'• 'T- ,' ,''. ;"S! 'Then it has mme,', said Tom j'ap'd7-wh^ more, I'll have a look before I ama h, hour bldW Dear heart ! if I should, be right after ' aft.! 7 r Cpra along.' ." ; -. . - „- -'; „- „.,•■ Ay A- ; :"'.f.7'7.'jfi They had reached by this time thVehdfpfv£s>! lane where it passed round- the lower, part^p£'i|p old mosa-grown wall surrounding ' thb cottage &W grounds. At, one of the a,hgles; there Wa^'a.heaH nailed door. •. * Can't we get in hear'P-V'said'^gi giving it a poke impatieritlyTwrth-iiis stick!; '•( Q] dear,, nb ;. it '.hadn't ,been: bpend; f or^years ":7t| path on the other side had been long dj^f^di^ overTgrown with bushes. -'A '■' , '■.;, 'A }A'x>AA' "xM 'So much; the better,'7'cpntiriued .theTjsJ^oJ ' theT.less .'chah^Tpf Tti^e-s jolace;. -Ji^^gfSp^M -:- ; 7gChei):;the birpeffilM'^

||HH|pEc^ M^«Kinner si'deTof i^e gajdeh;. wall ttoougU " the ', SB^'flJob^.at.th^' f^rpnj|e!htrj9.aee. , : /,' 7. „, jWAx. gß^lie! seamaid witji jiffi experienced 'eye, nrst .of \ Wttwl^ »■ general: siiiJyey/,, Then, : pushiriig fhs' way . ||fl|i|fatiffi . shqwer^ right and. Nflmil bftltftci, b!enpath' '% \wide-sprea'&pg;ighafled' |«^|!|rebvl>f^ere'i3 r^'the doll's' nest,''' .tie ex'^ i-fllpiici, pointing up to a great bulging bole/or^ |?Hfi^ where ;t^b. large branches forked ; 'I *feel 7aj|||uied to ,s wing myself, up! into it as. I used, only ISf&fraid, it .wouldn't bear me/now* Yes, there hw^Tan^/uow I've gotit in a line with the cHim.as in7the old days;!,;. Then twenty long |-fl|tndes will bririg'.me down/close under thb.wall-^---nfflj^i But this brushwood, is f thicker than it used ■Mt to 'be,' he continued, as he tramped heavily 78 jirough the/* neglected ' uridei'grOWth, his com.9 paeons .watching him from the upper slope, by 8 4$ * strip "bf. kitchen-garden. Ho has reached to flflithin a yard of the wallvarid he stands peering '.fljor. a while iij^jinxQngstvthe densest part of the fl; lifting a branch, there with his stick, and put 'fl'iting two or. three aside, here with his hands, he fl 'makes another step forward, peers down once or fl twice again, .throws up his arknsas if/in signal to fliiose behind, and then. with a shout plunges, as flj/seenis, headlong into .the bushes, and all but fl disappears.. George gets down to him, in ,a ( minute fl'or two, and by the time Alice has managed, with fl astounding, disregard , of flounces, and the effect flof wet and thorns, upon them, to come up with fl ihe pioneers, she sees them . epgaged in clearing fl aside withfeet and hands a mass of accumulated flrabbish— fallen leaves, : earth, and . underwood. fl The snow has been very light, and has not penefl trated far below the.upper twigs. , fl ' A spade, a spade,' calls out Tom, 'pr a pick of B some sort!' .. fl ' •'Bennie, go to the tool-house,'; cries his father. fl/,, And the child, who is only half rway 'down £he flltbpe, runs back, and soon reappears,, struggling' flffnth. a spade flif' Alice relieyes.the little hands of their unwieldy fl -harden, and takes, it down to Tom, sending the fl «hild back to the house for! fear of his taking fl .Five minutes pass, and the sailor, by hacking at , fl the bushes and delving into the : earth,, has laid fl bare the ..top of a queer-looking, half -bricked, j fl half -tiled, sort of structure. ,He lifts away, some; H of the tiles with which a portion of it is covered, I B and discloses the upper end. pf a large leathern, H jack, aUmpiddy and -begrimed, haying, a kind, of H brass .binding- and clasp fastened. by a- rusty 9 ft 7; With low^muttered exclamations from Tom,.arid B ipuctigasping and puffing frpm George, by degrees B -a regular clearing is made, and their lies exposed B .toviewfthe whole of an 'enorrapns -. sack, nearly ■ £ye feet lorig.and three feet wide,! 7 ... . - ; fl A clasp-kuif c flies put &bm the sailor's pocket, • : B "the leather is riped open,, and. the sack is dis-, m ooyered,; to , be crammed .with a succession; of i ■ canvas bags. With some (difficulty, for itis very j H heavy,: Tom, having handed the spade, to G-eprge,; j athe^first to lift one of .these out. '. It is firmly tied at the,, mouth .with strong. string and sealed, \ and has a parchment label, with the, sum dEIOpQ in figures marked upon it. „ Again theTknifp is j used with more impatience jthah,;ever; "*ind Tom,: dipping his hand in, produces a dozen oir more I brigh^^vereigns ! , , .'.,,.• ;,■ , ! 'Hurrah!,' hurrah! here it is then,', cries7!l?9m . jrr^the main , bulk , of ,my property:^ —^hidden,; iufried, after the fashion of our old money -box; . Ancf-liere.it has lain certainly for fivej and who ] <em say fqr. how many, more years ?" ;-,- . ; ! Bag:.by, bag is, removed from, the ieathern sack ; 4he_ sample which, has. been opened explains v^hat they each are. filled with.. There they arer-forty •of them, all alike, tied and labeled alike.; , each •weighing about. seventeen, pounds ; a solid, mass of some six hundredweight of, gold! . . :; .< 'Total,' sayß G-eorge, with a facetious assumption of the banker's air, when, with much labour and hurrying to and fro, everything has been •conveyed very, quietly and secretly into the house, '£40,000 in gold.' '"'.'■.. ' The surprise,,the excitement,, apd the general -commotion which went pn:while .these facts were . being arrived at no words can describe. , BCpweyer, •there, was flilatthew.Rickman's accumulated wealth j-atj.hi^t,, standing in . forty .bags', upon .'tile, table jaad on the! floor , in ,the httle parlor^ : But how ■hisheiys and executors, .behaved, and what, they -Baid, : must, in. detail, be left to the imagination. They walked, round it, arid left it, moved firstbnb bag and then another/- to try if, they were aU; of , „itiie same weight. ., Then they counted a few •sovereigns frpm the bag that had been opened, and then them in again ; and the whple time they were "-all talking, every one of them, all/, at once, and .riot a sdiiTl listemng !- They /exclaimed, they wondered, they laughed, and, of cburse, : Alice . ■cried, and Bennie followed suit., And it is quite. * impossible to , say how long this sort bf thing went •on, for , every thing, they did .they .did fifty times, , and every thing they said, they said at. least ahundred .times over and over. ! again,- and the/ performance might . have , lasted till ' crack •of doom,'; but fpr the closing, in of the short . This seemed to suggest a practical remark to George, and to w!hich at" length the reßt seemed inclined, tp listen.;. ", , ( . . !_ • . ;'.ltis.~ali very well,' tie cried, 'but we" can't •dine off gold, at least not at present^ and I'm get-. . ting hungry." , .. ,_ ., , •' . ; , /. jThenitsucldenlyjOCCurred tothem all that thby . were hungry ; and then the good bld-fashibhed '•', general jservant, who had, been. looking in. from / time tp.tirre at the parlorrdobr,,ahd who ti'ad, hot , Xyet quite; mastered what had. happened, was told T/to bring dinner! So, finally, the treasure was /..stowed a*vyay in 'a corner, just, Tom said, as if it !-] iJiad-been sp many bags of saw-dust, such as he A "used to have in his toy miller's cart, and which he ! alwayp stabled iri the self-same corner. -' " ' , , ;.! T7!^jTiuit thecloth was being laidthe whole party" of the window, apparently entirely ab#/iiprbed^by their pwn thoughts. After a long fesilenlpe,~,3:omTsaid, as he " r gazed absentjy in the' &ydire6tionbf the little summer-house,; . where he got them.*. ... , fe-v-^-G-bt-what ?' enq,uired Gebrge. T A.-. 'materials to ■ make . his/strong room with; llllpMbQK^ ; sb^k rbmriant's/.pf/pl^r^e i^Km&tti!e^7vyere ? ttie same .sort 'as.Tthose ia, that :

jpatch in the -tfSf"^^^ " They jwouid/hot'hayb t^^^ themselves :', ibut'sbeihgth'em where. * : I 4 dtd,* with what :my! mirip], 'they ;coriflrmed< -mj' suspicioh/ sjnd the (first! kici^'or two I-'gavetb' the : <eaisth.- settled-the-'iqh.estibri.'."'; :7 7' ! ''' : "| : """ , ■'-' •'"■ ■•-'>•: '• ■-. : :rt '-- ; '■.'■ ■'■''.■ '■ ; :'• ''Why-,' of'-'coui'se^ 'exclaimed Gfcorge j * the aid ■gentlemauhad'the roof |f iiiendedJ while' we were jaway that year; 'hot a' month before" he died* anct> rio doubt he ;sebveted : some of the workman's materials for this purppse-.' ; ' Only fancy !' cried Alice ; 'and the sack— ' where did he * get the sack j db- you think ?.' 'Oh, simply had it made years ago, rio doubt, iwheh this' idea 1 first possessed him,' was Tom's ; rejoinder. {■-,- - - , v - . T , , ... '„..-- -' Well,, God. bless,' him / said .Alice ; he never meant Jhat.wei shpuldhaye so much trouble about lit all, poor/dear father! , God bless him I say again.!'.. . . ' ' , Aiid they all. answered, 'Arrien.' „''!.' Presently .after. this .the Christmas feast was served, and we may be pretty sure that there !was npt a merrier or, happier Christinas dinner-party throughout the length aiid breadth of the land to be found that day! There was' no melancholy tone in the talk now.; „it, it was .'all in the brighthigh happy, key. „....". 7 ' . 'And why not ?' asks George. 'If grandfather had not buried the money in the orchard, why I might, have buried it in the copper-mine— who knows ? No, it is all for the best, depend upon it • and I call it a wonderful stpry pf Christmas iuck. Tom will have half, and Alice will have half — twenty' thousand pounds apiece— and we will invest the whole ia the Three per Cents. That will be enough' 'for' us, Won't it ? Yes, Woriderful luck,' he continued ; ' only I can't make out about my dream, for it must have been a dream, after all ; it could not have been any thing else.' 'Ah, so we may say,' broke in Torn solemnly, 'and so most people would say ; and they would tell you that it was my talking about " the doll's nest " just before we went to' bed that started the dream in your head,'G'eorge • but I'm not foi? hay- ! ihg everything cut and dried and explained in this : matter-of-fact sort of fashion. I say I' have seen ! enough to know that it' can't be done : things j happen in this world that baffle the' wisest — that i is, if those can be counted the wisest who are not j inclined sometimes to accept mysterious dispensa,.- ; tions as the ruling of a higher power than man's.' j Just for two or three minutes everybody looked j grave ; but after that they soon recovered, arid > the merry-making was resumed without one jot of; alloy — resumed arid' kept'up' till a" quite absurdly i late hour for. the, inhabitants ,of the little quiet; home upon the Highgate slope.