g."

"Well," said John, with a laugh, "if the ex-s are yours, and
half-profits mine, I don't mind remaining here for a couple of days."

"A couple of days!" cried Morris, who was beginning to get angry and
controlled himself with difficulty; "why, you would do more to win five
pounds on a horse-race!"

"Perhaps I would," returned the Great Vance; "it's the artistic
temperament."

"This is monstrous!" burst out Morris. "I take all risks; I pay all
expenses; I divide profits; and you won't take the slightest pains to
help me. It's not decent; it's not honest; it's not even kind."

"But suppose," objected John, who was considerably impressed by his
brother's vehemence, "suppose that Uncle Masterman is alive after all,
and lives ten years longer; must I rot here all that time?"

"Of course not," responded Morris, in a more conciliatory tone; "I only
ask a month at the outside; and if Uncle Masterman is not dead by that
time you can go abroad."

"Go abroad?" repeated John eagerly. "Why shouldn't I go at once? Tell
'em that Joseph and I are seeing life in Paris."

"Nonsense," said Morris.

"Well, but look here," said John; "it's this house, it's such a pig-sty,
it's so dreary and damp. You said yourself that it was damp."

"Only to the carpenter," Morris distinguished, "and that was to reduce
the rent. But really, you know, now we're in it, I've seen worse."

"And what am I to do?" complained the victim. "How can I entertain a
friend?"

"My dear Johnny, if you don't think the tontine worth a little trouble,
say so, and I'll give the business up."

"You're dead certain of the figures, I suppose?" asked John.
"Well"--with a deep sigh--"send me the _Pink Un_ and all the comic
papers regularly. I'll face the music."

As afternoon drew on, the cottage breathed more thrillingly of its
native marsh; a creeping chill inhabited its chambers; the fire smoked,
and a shower of rain, coming up from the channel on a slant of wind,
tingled on the window-panes. At intervals, when the gloom deepened
toward despair, Morris would produce the whisky-bottle, and at first
John welcomed the diversion--not for long. It has been said this spirit
was the worst in Hampshire; only those acquainted with the county can
appreciate the force of that superlative; and at length even the Great
Vance (who was no connoisseur) waved the decoction from his lips. The
approach of dusk, feebly combated with a single tallow candle, added a
touch of t