it all!" the constable ejaculated, casting a glance over his
shoulder and dipping a hand wide of the basin.

"Fetch up some water, my dear," suggested Builder Gilbert. "When a
man's in a fit 'tis no time to ask questions, as you'll learn when
you grow up." Again he proffered the ewer.

'Beida ignored it. "When a man's in a fit, do folks help by pokin'
their noses into his cupboards?" she demanded again, not removing her
eyes from Mr Pamphlett.

"Pack that child out!" commanded Mr Pamphlett, standing up and
addressing Rat-it-all. "Do you hear me?"

"I hear, sir," answered Rat-it-all. "But situated as I be--"
He cast a helpless glance at the child, who seemed to grow in stature
as, lifting her forefinger and pointing it at Mr Pamphlett, she
advanced into the room and shrilled--

"You've come to steal his money, the three of 'ee! An' you can't
take me in nor frighten me, not one of 'ee!"

The high treble voice, or the word "money," or both, fetched
Nicky-Nan back to consciousness. He opened his eyes and groaned.

"The money--where's the money?" he muttered. His eyes opened wider.
Then of a sudden his brain cleared. He sat up with a wild cry,
almost a scream; and, thrusting Rat-it-all backwards with all the
force of one hand, with the other groped on the floor for his
walking-staff--which lay, however, a couple of yards from him and
close by Mr Pamphlett's feet.

"My money!--Rogues! Cheats!--" He broke down and put a hand to his
head in momentary faintness. "Where be I?" Then taking his hand
away and catching sight of the blood on it, he yelled out "Murder!
Where's my money? Murder! Thieves!"

"Hush 'ee, Mister Nanjivell." 'Beida dropped on her knees beside
him. "Hush 'ee now, co! Here, let _me_ take the towel an' bathe your
poor head," she coaxed him. "You've had a fall, an' cut yourself--
that's what happened. An' these men weren't murderin' 'ee, nor
shan't while I am here. No, nor they han't stole your money,
neither--though I won't say they weren't tryin'."

He submitted, after a feeble convulsive struggle. "Where's my
money?" he persisted.

"Your money's all right. Safe as if 'twas in the Bank--safer, I
reckon," she added, with an unfriendly glance at Mr Pamphlett.

"What money is this you're talking about?" asked that gentleman,
stepping forward. He had no children of his own: and when he spoke
to children (which was not often) his tone conveyed that he thought
very little of the