f not--why then a cheer or so,--they ain't a going to
get it all,--not while I've got a pound or two,' I sez to myself."

"Adam," said Bellew, turning suddenly, "that sentiment does you credit,
that sentiment makes me proud to have knocked you into a ditch,--shake
hands, Adam." And there, beneath the great apple tree, while the moon
looked on, they very solemnly shook hands.

"And now, Adam," pursued Bellew, "I want you to put back your ten
pounds, keep it for Prudence,--because I happen to have rather more than
we shall want,--see here!" And, with the words, Bellew took out a
leathern wallet, and from this wallet, money, and bank-notes,--more
money, and more bank-notes than Adam had ever beheld in all his thirty
odd years, at sight of which his eyes opened, and his square jaw
relaxed, to the imminent danger of his cherished clay pipe.

"I want you to take this," Bellew went on, counting a sum into Adam's
nerveless hand, "and to-morrow, when the sale begins, if any one makes a
bid for anything, I want you to bid higher, and, no matter what, you
must always buy--always, you understand?"

"But sir,--that there old drorin'-room cab'net wi' the--carvings--"

"Buy it!"

"An' the silver candle-sticks,--and the four-post bed-stead,--an' the--"

"Buy 'em, Adam,--buy everything! If we haven't enough money there's
plenty more where this came from,--only buy!--You understand?"

"Oh yes sir, I understand! 'Ow much 'ave you give me? Why,
here's--forty-five,--fifty,--sixty,--Lord!--"

"Put it away, Adam,--forget all about it till to-morrow,--and not a
word, mind!"

"A hundred pound!" gasped Adam, "Lord!--Oh I won't speak of it, trust
me, Mr. Belloo, sir! But to think of me a walking about wi' a hundred
pound in my pocket,--Lord! I won't say nothing--but to think of Old Adam
wi' a hundred pound in his pocket, e'Cod! it do seem that comical!"
saying which, Adam buttoned the money into a capacious pocket, slapped
it, nodded, and rose. "Well sir, I'll be going,--there be Miss Anthea in
the garden yonder, and if she was to see me now there's no sayin' but I
should be took a laughin' to think o' this 'ere hundred pound."

"Miss Anthea!--where?"

"Comin' through the rose-gardin. She be off to see old Mother Dibbin.
They call Mother Dibbin a witch, an' now as she's down wi' the
rheumatics there ain't nobody to look arter 'er,--'cept Miss
Anthea,--she'd ha' starved afore now if it 'adn't been for Miss Anthea,
but Lord love your