sound Mrs
Bosenna and assure himself that she meant to attend the sale and secure
Lot 9; but she spoke of it with an irritating carelessness. Almost it
might have persuaded him--had he been less practised in her wayward
moods--that she had dismissed the affair from her mind. But on Friday
(New Year's Day) as he took leave of her, she recurred to it.
"Dear me," said she meditatively, "I shall not be seeing you for several
days, shall I?"

"Eh? Why not?"

"To-morrow's Saturday; then Sunday's our day of rest, as Dinah calls it.
On Monday's the auction--"

"Ah, to be sure!" Cai had forgotten this consequence of it, and was
dashed in spirits for the moment. "But I shall see you there?"

"Perhaps," she answered negligently. "Shall you be attendin'?
Really, now!"

With an accent of reproach he asked how she could imagine that a
business so nearly concerning her could find him other than watchful.
On leaving he repeated his good wishes for the twelvemonth to come, and
with a warmth of intention which she perversely chose to ignore.

To be sure he meant to attend the sale. Nor was he surprised on
entering the Ship Inn next Monday, some ten minutes ahead of the
advertised time, to find 'Bias in the bar with a glass of hot brandy and
water at his elbow. Cai ordered a rum hot.

"Where's the auction to be held?" he inquired of Mr Oke, the landlord.

"Long Room as usual." Mr Oke jerked a thumb towards the stairs; and
Cai, having drained his glass, went up.

In the Long Room, which is a handsome apartment with waggon roof and
curious Jacobean mouldings dating from the time when The Ship was built
to serve as "town house" for one of Troy's great local families, Cai
found a sparse company waiting for the sale to open, and noted with
momentary dismay that Mrs Bosenna had not yet arrived. But after all,
he reflected, there was no need for extreme punctuality, it would take
the auctioneer some time to reach Lot 9.

The company included young Mr Middlecoat, of course; and, equally of
course, Mr Philp, who had no interest in the sale beyond that of
curiosity; some three or four farmers from the back-country, who had
apparently come for no purpose but to lend Mr Middlecoat their moral
support, since, as it turned out, not one of them made a serious bid;
Squire Willyams' steward, Mr Baker,--a tall, clean-shaven man with a
watchful non-committal face; one or two frequenters of The Ship's
bar-parlour; and the Quaymaster, by