shops; for the rest, and at first for convenience rather than
profit, they set up a bank and issued their own notes--those for one or
two pounds payable at their own house, and those for larger sums by their
London agent. At first these notes would be cashed at once. By and by
they began to pass as ordinary tender. Before long, people who possessed
a heap of this paper learnt that the Rosewarnes would give them interest
for it as well as for money, and bethought them that, if hoarded, it ran
the risk of robbery, besides being unproductive. Timidly and at long
intervals men came to Martin and asked him to take charge of their wealth.
He agreed, of course. 'Use the money of others' was still his motto.
So Rosewarne's became a deposit bank.

To the end Nicholas imperfectly understood these operations. By a clause
in his will he begged his son as a favour to pay off every penny of
mortgage money. On the morning after the funeral, Martin stuffed three
stout rolls of bank-notes into his pocket, and rode over to Damelioc.
Mr. Burke had for six years been Lord Killiow, in the peerage of Ireland,
and for two years a Privy Councillor. He received Martin affably.
He recognised that this yeoman-looking fellow had been too clever for him,
and bore no malice.

"I've a proposition to make to you, Rosewarne," said he, as he signed the
receipts. "You are a vastly clever man, and I judge you to be
trustworthy. For my part, I hate lawyers "--

"Amen!" put in Martin.

"And I thought of asking you to act as my steward at a salary. It won't
take up a great deal of your time," urged his lordship; for Martin had
walked to the long window, and stood there, gazing out over the park, with
his hands clasped beneath his coat-tails.

"As for that, I've time to spare," answered Martin. "Banking's the
easiest business in the world. When it's hard, it's wrong. But would you
give me a free hand?"

"I cannot bind my brother Patrick, if that's what you mean. When I'm in
the grave he must act according to his folly. If he chooses to dismiss
you."--

"I'll chance that. But you are asking a good deal of me. Your brother is
an incurable gambler. He owes something like 20,000 pounds at this
moment--money borrowed mainly on _post obits_."

"You are well posted."

"I have reason to be. Man--my lord, I mean--he will want money, and
what's to prevent me adding Damelioc to Hall, as you would have added Hall
to Damelioc?"

"There's t