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\

f

THE TREASURES IN THE MARSHES.

Aatbor of <'The Heir of Redclyffe."

OUR NEW MISTRESS; or, Changes at

Brookfield Earl. lamo. Qotb $ i 25

UNDER THE S T O R M ; or, Stead&st's

Charge, izino. Cloth 125

THE CUNNING WOMAN'S GRANDSON;
cr, A Tale of Cheddar a Hundred Years
Ago. laino. Qoth............. i 25

THE SLAVES OP SABINUS; Jew and Gen-

tile. lamo. Cloth i 25

THE CONSTABLE'S TOWER; or, the

Times of Magna Charta. lamo. Qoth.... i 25
THE CROSS ROADS ; or, a Choice in Life.

i2ino. Ooth. ; . . . i 25

TREASURES IN THE MARSHES. i2mo.

Ooth I 00

NEW STORIES. The above seven volumes in a

neat box 8 75

THOMAS WHITTAKER, Publisher,
2 and 3 Bible House, New York.

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THE TREASURES IN THE

MARSHES

BY

CHARLOTTE M. YONGE C

AUTHOR OP "THB CROSS ROAOS/' "THB COMSTABLB'S TOWBR," BTC.

•• Gold I Gold I Gold I Gold 1
Good or bad a thousandfoldt

How widely its agencies rary I
To save <— to ruin — to curse — to bless,
As even its minted coins express :
Now stamped with the image of Good Queen Bess,
And now of Cruel Mary."

HOOD : Miss Kilmansegg' s Leg

WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY W. S. STACEY

t-^

NEW YORK
THOMAS WHITTAKER

2 AND 3 BIBLE HOUSE

1

THE NEW YORK

PUBLIC LIBRARY

j 5KS83B

AST.jR, I ENOX AND

TiLM'.N roUNRATlONS

R 1941 L

I

Copyright, 1893,
By Thomas Whittaker.

f

CONTENTS.

CHAPTER PAGB

I. GOLDEN EGGS I

II. THE HOARD 8

III. THE CURIOSITY SHOP I7

IV. KATE 31

V. THE COLLAR 4I

VL A KING CUP 49

VII. LIGHTS IN THE DARK 60

VIII. AN OLD BATTLE-FIELD 69

IX. WHAT DID HE GET BY IT ? 79

X. FRIAR*S LANTERN ?^«S

XI. THE ARCH^OLOGISTS 95

XII. OLD AND NEW IO5

XIIL THE NORTH LYCH TREASURE II3

XIV. NEW HOMES 122

XV. A FINCH TRANSFORMED I30

XVL THE CRY OF THE CHILDREN I39

V

vi CONTENTS.

CHAPTER PAGE

XVII. THE TORQUE I44

XVIII. TO THE RESCUE I53

XIX. THE CHAMPION 162

XX. WHIN COMMON I70

XXI. POSITIVE 179

XXII. THE DISCOVERY 185

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.

PAGE

WALTER TRYING ON THE ULSTER {Frontispiece)

'* MY SON, YOU WANT TO BE A FINE GENTLEMAN !" IO7

CHRIS CREDITON COMES TO KATE'S RESCUE 1 58

vu

THE TREASURES IN THE MARSHES

^

CHAPTER I.

GOLDEN EGGS.

I*m on Tommy Tidler*s groond
Picking up gold and silver.

Nursery Rhyme,

►HE lapwings were flying round and
round, screaming out their long, lazy
"pee-weet, pee-weet," showing a great
deal more of the white lining of their broad wings
than of their dark shining green bodies, and noth-
ing at all of their beautiful crests. One in partic-
ular floated sometimes on high, sometimes near
the ground, pee-weeting most lamentably from
time to time to catch the attention of the only
other living thing to be seen, which kept all the
birds hovering on the alert, though, excepting that

« J • -• "•

2 THE TREASURES IN THE MARSHES,

it moved, it was hardly to be distinguished from
the pale drab brown tint of the surroundings.

For all seemed at first sight of the colour of
dead bents of grass or reed : a perfectly flat scene,
with a grey cloudy sky overhead, and a grey pale
river, with a few lighter and brighter patches
creeping through the midst. If there were a few
wooded banks or houses bounding it, they were a
great way off and shrouded, too, in the grey mist
so as to be hardly visible.

Those who listened might have heard cheery
larks high in the sky, above and beyond the lap-
wings, and those who looked might have seen
green blades of grass, and here and there broad
leaves and golden blossoms of kingcups peeping
out along the borders of the pools and streams,
whose waters ultimately found their way to the
river Awe — a broad one just in this place, though
so sluggish that it did not seem to know which
way it was going ; but it overflowed sometimes,
and spread out far over the banks that were traced
chiefly by clumps of reeds, and by withies and
sallows which were bearing their silver rabbit*s-
tail buds. At such things, however, that one
moving figure never looked. He was in quest of

• ■

• • • •

GOLDEN EGGS, 3

the eggs of the lapwings, which were trying to
beguile him away from their nests, with all that
flapping and dodging and pretending to be maimed,
poor things ! which only made him laugh to him-
self, and slouch along in the opposite direction,
keeping a keen eye on the little rills and pools left
by the river's recent overflow. There he might,
by good-hap, spy a trout also, left behind by the
river, which might, if fine, be privately disposed
of ; if not, would help out the supper. Any way,
plovers' eggs were sure of a good price at Aw-
mouth, and the market people would take them
in. Walter Bulfinch was out of work just now ;
boys of sixteen were not wanted in the present
state of bleak east wind, and he was one of those
lads whom farmers always dismiss the first — not
that he was a bad boy on the whole, but he was
one of those who never could go on long at steady
work. He would find that he must stand up to
straighten his back, or to blow on his fingers, be-
fore other people concerned themselves about
theirs, and to hear the hounds anywhere about
put him quite beyond his wits.

Mr. Hunter — Old Hunks, as it was the fashion
in North Lychford to call him — was not the man

4 THE TREASURES IN THE MARSHES.

to stand such nonsense, and instead of remember-
ing that Walter's mother was a widow, what he
did remember was that " Bill Bully," as every one
named his father, had been more than suspected
of poaching, and that the keepers had not been at
all sorry when he died of a lung attack, caught,
as they said, " where he didn't ought to have
been." So the Saturday after Walter had been
caught with his hands in his pockets shouting after
the hounds, instead of hoeing the turnips, he was
told that there was nothing for him to do next
week.

His mother had regular washing, so it was not
starvation, but it was much less comfortable than
when he was bringing in something, and he was
doing his best by the search in the meadows,
which he liked a great deal better than turnip-
hoeing.

He had robbed three or four nests of their
pretty brown speckled eggs, holding them up to
the light to be sure that they had not been set
upon, and never heeding the screaming and wail-
ing of the parents, when, under a cluster of reeds
not far from the river, he saw something not at all
like a plover's egg — something bright, in the midst

GOLDEN EGGS. 5

of the bared roots and black peaty stuff. He
plunged in his hand, and pulled out something
black and dirty, but unmistakably a coin, and he
thought, black as it was, that it was silver.

Too thin for a sixpence ! Was it a threepenny
bit? No, it was an odd sort of coin. He thought
there was a cross on it, but could not be sure,
though he put it in his mouth and cleaned it a lit-
tle. It was very thin and much worn. Of course
he tried again, and this time out came a whole
handful — yes, one, two, three handfuls of the like
— of something besides, too, that was not money,
broken bits of metal. He really believed it might
be gold, only if it were not, how he should be
laughed at ! Down on his knees he went, grub-
bing and grasping, sometimes only getting hold
of a root or a bit of wood; but once there was
a piece of very rusty chain, which probably had
supported a leathern bag, for all . was close to-
gether in that one hole, and at the bottom was a
delicate collar or necklet, made apparently of scales
fitting into one another. There did not seem to
be more at hand, and Walter, who had given
a low whistle of exultation at each discovery,
thought it high time to carry the whole in his

6 THE TREASURES IN THE MARSHES.

basket home to his mother, especially as it was
getting dark.

The peewits needed not to trouble themselves
about him now ; he had got better game than was
to be found in their nests, and he tramped and
plodded across the bog, not much minding where
he was going, sometimes one foot sinking in,
sometimes splashing through a pool before he
came to the path, such as it was, and thence out
into a higher field or two beyond which lay the
village of North Lychford, or rather a hamlet of
the main body of the village, which rose higher
on the sloping ground. As Walter plunged over
a gap in the broken hedge, instead of going on by
the path, a rough voice called out, *' You young
rascal! what be after breaking my hedges for?"
and there was Farmer Hunter in his trap.

" Ha' n't done no harm — huntsmen broke 'em
before."

Which was true enough, so Mr. Hunter only
made a flourish with his driving whip towards him,
and shouted, " No need to be making them worse.
If I catch you again — ! Hey, what have you
got there?"

"Plovers' eggs," sulkily returned Walter; "a
chap must do some'at"

GOLDEN EGGS. 7

" Grump!'* again went the farmer. " Mind — if
I find you at your father's ways, V\\ — "

What he would do was lost, as his horse hur-
ried off; but Walter stood muttering, "Who
turned me off, Fd like to know — "

Walter was very far from a model boy, but a
kind word or even a civil one might have made
all the difference just then.

CHAPTER 11.

THE HOARD.

What is here?
Gold? Yellow, glittering, precious gold.

Shakespeare, Timon of Athens,

I^RS. BULFINCH was a tall, hearty.

capable-looking woman, who, as the
ladies said, "could wash," and that
is a rare power in these days of half learning and
half doing things ; since, for one woman that does
wash and iron respectably, there are five who pre-
tend to do so, and will neither take pains nor
submit to have fault found with them.

Her hands had pretty well kept the family
through all the uncertainties of her husband's life-
time, and she was rather better than worse off
since his death, because those who had looked
coldly on him were glad to help her, as a strug-
gling industrious woman. Her elder children

8

THE HOARD, 9

were all out in the world, one boy a sailor, another
a soldier in India; and another had gone off to
navvy work no one knew where, and her only
daughter was in service. It was a rather desolate-
looking, untidy cottage to which Walter took his
way, outside at least, for the mud walls looked far
from straight, and the thatch bulged down on one
side, while the gate had lost its hinges and was
kept together by a rope and a withe. There were
no flowering plants in the garden except two or
three primroses, the blossoms of which the spar-
rows picked off as fast as they opened ; but there
were tolerable beds of vegetables coming up on
either side, and clean white linen hung fluttering
from the lines on the posts — irregular, untrimmed
sticks of timber — and there came grunt, grunt
from within a tumbledown pig-sty, as if the in-
mate knew Walter's step, and expected his supper.

Mrs. Bulfinch had her hands busy over her
ironing, and the clergyman's housekeeper, a very
grand personage, was sitting on a chair by her
table, waiting for the handkerchiefs that were
wanted in a hurry, as her master was going from
home the next day.

" Well, Walter, '* she said, " 'twas a bad job that

lO THE TREASURES IN THE MARSHES.

Mr. Hunter turned you off ! Have you got taken
on again?*'

" No " — in an offended voice.

"You ought to be looking out. A great lad
like you to be on your poor mother's hands!"

Walter did not think it was any business of
Mrs. Rowe's, and was glad when his mother said,
" Wat is ever so useful to me about odd jobs when
he is out of work.'*

"You would be a foolish woman to keep him
idling. I should think you have had enough of
that. What have you got there, boy?"

"Plovers' eggs," responded Walter, not at all
inclined to tell her any more.

" Let me see them. If they are fresh, the
Vicar might like a few for his breakfast, or maybe
to take some up to his sister."

" ril take 'em out," gruffly said Walter, retreat-
ing into the back kitchen. All the habits of
secrecy and caution learnt in his father's time were
aroused, but both his mother an<J Mrs. Rowe
could perceive that the basket was heavier than
the plovers' eggs accounted for, and Mrs. Rowe,
who thought it was a rabbit, uttered a hope that
he had been after no mischief. Walter came back

THE HOARD, II

with only the eggs; one had been broken, and
was making a pretty mess over the rest of his
treasures.

Mrs. Rowe held each up to the light suspi-
ciously, and haggled over them, declaring that if
he found those, there must be more to find; but
she ended by leaving sixpence for them and carry-
ing off them and her handkerchiefs.

" Well, Watty, what is it ? Whatever have you
got?** asked his mother.

Walter made a face, and giggled in an odd way
as he said, " Come into the back shed and see.*'

Black earth, and the yoke of the egg, together
with the dimness of tarnish, hid the lustre of the
first piece so much that Mrs. Bulfinch exclaimed :

" Bless the lad ! he has been and got hold of an
old tin pot."

" Tin pot, indeed ! ** said Walter. " Look,
mother," and he brought out a handful of the
little coins.

" Well I neyer ! But it is all black and thin !
It ain*t proper money.*'

** WortK more— ever so much more than proper
money! Why, at the old Jew Isaacs' at Aw-
mouth I saw a whole tray of rum-looking money,

12 THE TREASURES IN THE MARSHES,

and there was a silver bit as big as a half-crown
marked at ten bob ! Look there now ! *'

He had succeeded in cleaning the coin enough
to show that it was silver, had a head on one side,
and a cross on the other.

"Well, to be sure!*' repeated Mrs. Bulfinch.
"Where ever did you find it?**

" Down in the marsh, just by one of the gut-
ters, when I was looking for eggs. But that's not
all, mother! Here be bits of all sorts, and I can
tell you it is a deal too heavy for it to be tin or
old iron. Why ! *' after a little rubbing and scrap-
ing — " it*s yellow! is it gold?**

" My ! *' exclaimed his mother, weighing it in
her hand, " I do believe it is. Brass never would

«

heft so much, and would be green. Bless me,
Wat, this is a find! Where ever did you come
by it? In the gutters, do you say?**

"Ay, where the river has been out. In ever
such a wet place.*' As indeed Walter's boots
testified. " Here's a golden thing, too,*' he
added, taking out the collar.

" My word ! It seems quite whole ! Any
lady might wear it, if it was but clean. Trumpery
all of it!** she said, changing her mind. "One

L

THE HOARD, 1 3

can't see what the things be, they are in such a
muck."

" We'll put 'em into a pail, and wash 'em up,
first of all," said Walter, ** then we shall see what
the things be."

So, after fastening the doors and drawing a cur-
tain across the window, the contents of the basket
were turned out into a zinc pail, and water poured
over them. Wat set to work on them with a birch
broom, and his mother put a red crock by his side,
telling him she would have no mess made on the
floor (which was only of cracked tiles after all).
She did not half believe in the treasures, and
began to get the tea ready.

She called Wat to come and eat, and would
not light the lamp yet for him to see the various
fragments and coins he touched in the twilight.
" Depend on it," she said, *' the whole rubbish-
ing lot is not worth wasting paraffin for."

However, she changed her mind a little when,
it being now quite dark, the lamp was lighted, and
Wat showed what he had been rubbing up on his
trousers. It certainly was like gold; a broken
piece apparently of a cup, for it curved, and there
was a costly pattern chased upon it.

14 THE TREASURES IN THE MARSHES.

" Some one stole it and threw the bag away/*
said Mrs. Bulfinch, " when the police was after
them. Or else hid it, and forgot the place."

"It's so old/* said Walter, "not like things
now-a-days."

" I tell you this,** holding up the collar, " is just
like what I have seen when I was in service, in
advertisement pictures of ladies* ornaments ; and a
pretty thing it is, to be sure. See, all the joints
lap one over the other, like a lobster's tail. It
must be worth something, if it is real ! It is luck,
Watty man, if only it don*t bring us into trouble ! *'

" What shall we do with it, mammie ? *Twas
Old Hunks*s ground, but he slanged me so as I
wasn't going to show it to him ! Must I^-did I
ought, mother?**

" Bless the boy! what should you do that for?
The old skinflint!** said Mrs. Bulfinch, "it ain*t
none of his, nor ever had been ; it was your luck
to find it, and we have the best right to make what
we can by it.**

Walter was half puzzled. He had always been
a fairly honest boy, except in the matter of poach-
ing, to which he had been brought up ; and if he
had found a purse on the road, and been able to

THE HOARD, 15

trace the owner, he would have restored it ; but
his mother's view satisfied him. Moreover, it was
pretty certain that he would not have got much of
a reward had he carried it to the farmer. That
there are laws about treasure-trove neither of them
knew, nor perhaps would it have made much dif-
ference if they had.

They turned all the treasure over, cleaned it as
well as they could, and examined it. There were
a good many broken pieces of gold and silver,
twenty perhaps, as if two or three precious vessels
had been broken for convenience of carriage, some
very green bits of brass, a few stones, a bit of a
chain, the collar, and at least a hundred and sixty
of the coins, none larger than a shilling, very much
tarnished, some broken, all very thin, but certainly
silver.

" Well, that's what I call luck," said Mrs. Bul-
finch, going to the old chest, and taking out her
old workbox, once polished, but scratched on the
lid ; and with all the divisions within broken down,
but still with lock and key. "There, that will
hold 'em all safe," she said, turning the key and
putting it into her pocket.

"But what's to be done with them?" asked

1 6 THE TREASURES IN THE MARSHES,

Walter, rather vexed at having them put out of
his reach.

" I'll think about that. Don*t you be afraid.
You shall have your own as has a right to it.
Only don't you go blabbing to nobody about what
you have found, as you'll get yourself and all of us
into trouble."

*' I'll go down and see if I can find any more."

" You might do that, as if 'twas peewits' eggs ;
but don't if others want to come with you, as it
will be all up with our chances. Come, we'd
better get off to bed, or some one will be coming
to know why the lamp is alight so late."

So mother and son went to bed, very conscious
of the hoard in the chest, but neither of them with
any prayers.

CHAPTER III.

THE CURIOSITY SHOP.

Setting the how much before the hoWt

Cry, with the daughters of the horse-leech, Give.

Tennyson.

ALTER wanted to begin consulting
about the treasure the first thing in the
morning, but his mother stopped his
mouth directly. " I tell you what, my son : I
won't have no talking about what's in there. If
we once begin giving tongue about it, there will
be no stopping, and we shall have trouble with it."
" I was only going to say that maybe the young
parson would tell us what that money is and what
it is worth."

"Ay, and tell about it all over the place, and the
next thing would be that you would be had up for
stealing Farmer Hunter's money, or maybe worse
— if that there broken ware came from any of the
gentlefolks' houses round about. As is like enow,

17

1 8 THE TREASURES IN THE MARSHES,

we'd have the police poking about us, and, any-
way, if we did not get harm, we should get no
good out of it, if we let the gentry get wind of it."

" They would sure not do us out of it?"

" I wouldn't trust them. They'd say, ' Here's
a half-crown,' or, mayhap, ' half-a-sovereign for
your trouble, and because you are an honest boy,'
if you please ! and then they would make pounds
and pounds out of it, that did ought to belong to
you. Oh yes, I've seen their ways. Why, there
was Miss Clavering. I saw her come in with a
teapot all over ugly green beastisses, with their
faces upside down, and heard her tell how she had
got it out of an old granny for five shillings ; and
she sold it, yes she did, at a bazaar, for five
pounds, and not a farthing beyond the five shil-
lings ever went to the poor old granny."

"That was mean," cried Walter, indignantly.
" But what will you do then, mam? "

" Take this basket home to Mrs. Scales," prac-
tically answered Mrs. Bulfinch, "and bring back
the fresh lot. Then, if I have time after I have
put the things to soak, why, I'll put on my bonnet,
and go to Awmouth, and take a bit of that black
grimy-looking money, and maybe a bit of the

THE CURIOSITY SHOP. 1 9

Other stuff, and see what old Mr. Isaacs says to
it."

'' Tell him all about it ? " asked Walter.

" I shall do as I sees fit/* answered Mrs. Bul-
finch oracularly. Nor would she allow one word
to pass about the treasure, while she and her son,
carrying a great white- covered flasket between
them, walked up the long lane to the main body of
the village, which was rather a neglected-looking
place, the little low square-towered church seem-
ing half sunk into the ground, and the Rectory,
with great handsome trees, quite overtopping it.

The Rector, whose handkerchiefs had been hur-
ried last night, drove out at that moment from the
gate in a brougham, and, as he drew up the win-
dow, gave a friendly nod to the mother and son.
His Curate, who had been seeing him off, came
out the same minute.

" Good morning, Mrs. Bulfinch ; good morning,
Wat," he said, touching his broad hat before Wal-
ter's salutation. " Heard of any work yet?"

"No, sir."

" I dare say your mother finds you very useful

meantime."

He passed on with such a friendly smile that,

20 THE TREASURES IN THE MARSHES.

if Mrs. Bulfinch had not been present, and if Wal-
ter had not been rather startled by the story of the
teapot with the green monsters, he would have
been moved to confide the story of the find, for
his relations with this same Curate had always
been pleasant, though the same could not be said
of those with the Rector or with the schoolmistress.

The basket of clothes was exchanged for another,
after which Mrs. Bulfinch was glad enough to dis-
pose of Walter with a hunch of bread, spread with
the dripping she had got from Mrs. Scales, to go
and renew his search for the treasure under cover
of looking for plovers' eggs.

However, the poor lapwings were in greater
commotion than ever, for two boys, one woman,
and one girl were aU trying to rifle their nests for
the following day's market; and the last thing
Walter wished was to show the way to the spot
where he had made his discovery. Yet he wished
to hover about, much after the pattern of the birds,
so as to make sure that they were not lighting
upon it. The matter, however, was soon settled,
for the vehement outcries of " pee-weet '* actually
called the farmer to the birds' assistance, and he
was presently seen at the gate, shouting, " Holloa

THE CURIOSITY SHOP. 21

there ! be off with you ! I won't have trespassers
on my land."

So they all had to clear out, and the boys betook
themselves to a far less hopeful field beyond, which
was out of Farmer Hunter's jurisdiction. The lap-
wings did not profit much by the change, for the
farmer sent down one of his boys, and a basket
of eggs was carried by him to market the next
morning.

There were those who looked at it as if he had
been cheating them, although he was quite within
his rights. Money was more scarce with him than
they guessed, but there was no doubt that he was
a hard man, and did things in a harsh manner;
and this had helped to make Mrs. Bulfinch secretive
and suspicious of all who were better off than
herself. She had been well brought up, and had
been in fair services : but she had married a man,
handsome and amusing, but of irregular, unsteady,
poaching habits. She had worked hard and in-
dustriously, and often the whole family had de-
pended on her; but her standard of right and
wrong had been pulled down insensibly ; she had
learnt to connive at and conceal much that she
would not have done herself, and to view every

22 THE TREASURES IN THE MARSHES.

one who could call her husband or her sons to ac-
count as a natural enemy to be avoided as much
as possible, in spite of their laundry- work, their
soup, and their blankets. ^

So, as soon as she had put her clothes ^soak,
she dressed herself in her neat round black hat and
jacket; and after much consideration, with the
doors fastened, she fished out of the box in the
chest one broken bit of a vase and two of the
blackened coins, tied them up in a handkerchief,
put them in her pocket, took a basket to carry
soap and blue, in case any one should ask her why
she was going to Awmouth ; and set out on her
walk, which she was resolved to take alone, lest
Walter should disclose too much by his eagerness.

If she had any visions in her head, they were
of making something good of this for Walter, her
youngest, her brightest, and her darling, even
beyond his only sister Kate, a year older. What
had she not gone through when those two were
babies, whose coming long after the rest she could
have spared, and now that they were fine, strong-
limbed, dark-eyed young people, she still loved
them above all the rest, and had indulged them to
a point that made steady employment very hard

THE CURIOSITY SHOP. 23

to them, so that Kate was far too apt to turn up
at home again " out of place."

Awmouth was a little harbour town, at the
moutn of that same river Awe which ran between
the two Lychfords. There were beyond the tidy,
respectable High Street, the wharves, not very
new or in very good order, serving as a landing-
place for the grimy colliers, the little traders, the
shabby little steamers, and the fishing vessels,
some of which were always to be seen, and whose
rough-looking sailors hung round the sea-wall
and railings, smoking pipes, and sometimes re-
freshing themselves at the various public-houses
which seemed really to alternate with the shops
that displayed sea clothing, sea fittings, provisions,
tobacco, and the like, all in a small shabby way.

It was to the comer one of these that Mrs. Bul-
finch took her way. It was full of all sorts of
things. At the door was a Japanese basket chair,
not to be sat upon, for there was in it a tall grimed
feather broom, also a green china image of a
monster with a broken tail, and a dish of little
shells and Indian shot ; also two cats with bodies
made of snails* shells, with plaster heads, painted
eyes, little shells for ears, and whiskers made from

24 THE TREASURES IN THE MARSHES.

brushes. The window was full of china plates,
odd baskets, odder boxes, and, oddest of all, a
nodding Mandarin, or rather one who ought to
have nodded and moved his hands.

Inside, it was not easy to move between chairs,
tables, chests, and the like, none new, and all
loaded with the greatest variety of things, wearing
apparel, stuffed birds, in cases or not, but all apt
to be moth-eaten and mangy. Chinese lanterns,
ostrich and emu eggs hung from the roof, and the
counter was covered with glass cases containing
coral, pebble, or glass jewellery, and the like, and
on the top of this again were trays and baskets
with other curiosities; little gaudy French pic-
tures, too, sometimes of the Blessed Virgin or of
Saints.

The little man behind the counter, with his
sharp hooked nose, twinkling eyes, grizzled black
hair and red whiskers, as if he had made himself
up for a figure of a Jew, was well known to be
ready to buy anything of any sort ; whether at a
small auction, from sailors when they came home,
or from the people in the town and villages.
Some things he only took as being the medium of
conveyance to other shops ; some he kept for sale

THE CURIOSITY SHOP, 2$

on his own account; and he had a reputation
among the gentry as having great bargains in the
way of curiosities to dispose of, to those who
would hunt them out, little guessing how *' old
Isaacs*' was secretly chuckling at the sagacity
they thought they showed, and the prices they
were ready to give.

Mrs. Bulfinch had often had dealings with him,
'for though he never professed to deal in game,
" Bill Bully '* had found it by far the safest way
to send a hare, rabbits, or pheasants in his wife's
basket, and leave Isaacs to dispose of them, some-
times, indeed, to the poulterer, but more often to
clever housewives, who would have thought it
extravagant to go to a poulterer's shop, and be-
lieved themselves to get their game cheaper and
more privately in this way.

Mrs. Bulfinch amused herself with looking at a
great rough coat and a long ulster, and wondering
how much the stains would show, and whether the
soiled and torn lining could be mended, until the
other customers had been cleared off, and Mr.
Isaacs turned his pointed chin to her blandly, ask-
ing, " What can I do for you, miss?"

(He always called people in hats Miss, as it

26 THE TREASURES IN THE MARSHES,

flattered them to be supposed to be young
girls.)

She came forward with one of the little coins in
her hand, and said, " Well, sir, could you tell me
the worth of this, and if it be real silver?"

" Eh!" he said, taking it in his hand, and look-
ing at it with an eye rather like an old magpie.
" Many folks bring bits like this, but for the most
part they are only bank tokens, just worth nothing
at all ! Where did this come from, if I may ask
so much?"

"Well, my son found it, digging," said Mrs.
Bulfinch, who had made up her mind to explain
thus much, but still put in a word of untruth, from
some strange notion that it was safer.

"Ah! there's a lot of worthless stuff lying
about that the lads come on digging, and this is
so thin I can bend it with my nail. See."

" But it is real silver."

The dealer went through some manoeuvres, and
convinced himself that it was so. Then he said,
"Ah! well, 'tis about the value of a sixpence. I
would not mind about giving the little fellow that
or a shilling just to encourage him."

"Little fellow! he is as tall as I am," ex-

THE CURIOSITY SHOP, 27

claimed Mrs. Bulfinch, indignantly. " He knows
what he is after, and if he don't get the full worth
of this, it ain't hard to go to one of the jewellers
or silversmiths to find out the value."

" Trust them for looking after their own inter-
est! They! Why, they'd tell you a coin wasn't
worth a button, when maybe it would bring in
five-and-twenty pound in their fine shop windows !
And now I come to look at it, this might be better
than one of those card-players* tokens. Did you
say you had any more of them ? "

Mrs. Bulfinch felt in her pocket, and there was
a jingling which brought out a gleam from the
Jew's black eyes. Those two were a curious sight,
neither trusting the other, nor disclosing anything
more than could be helped, yet each afraid of giv-
ing offence or losing the bargain. Isaacs really
suspected the woman of having come by the coin
by unlawful means, but he perceived that she had
more behind, and did not wish to alienate her or
frighten her. He was quite as ignorant of the
real value of the coins, or even of the piece of the
vase, as she was, except by their weight as metal ;
but it was quite worth his while, and she thought
it worth hers, to make the best of each other

28 THE TREASURES IN THE MARSHES.

without going further. The fragment was cer-
tainly gold, and he thought the work on it very
old and curious, but he would not tell her so.

** Did you hear," said he, " that there had been
a burglary a month or so ago at the hotel here at
Awmouth?" and he scanned her face knowingly.
" There was a plate-chest taken with old curious
goods in it, belonging to a gent, a sort of philoso-
pher, but the thieves got clear off, though the
pieces of the chest were found broken up.'*

"Ah! where was that?*' she cisked.

" Where was the chest found ? Oh ! down by
the river. Maybe they had to drop the plate, or
else to put it in hiding.'*

'* I never heard nothing of it, no never, I didn't,**
said Mrs. Bulfinch, heaping her negatives together,
with perfect truth, though Isaacs rather gathered
an affirmative from them, and thought that possibly
she had some knowledge of the matter. At any
rate he believed that these things might have been
part of the spoil of the philosopher, as he called
the unfortunate antiquary ; and in fact so did she,
since the thieves, when pursued, might have got
rid of them in the marsh.

So she listened while he said, " Now if you'll

THE CURIOSITY SHOP, 29

take my advice, miss, you'll not make too free
with anything you have found. Here are marks
on it, and these are old coins that could be identi-
fied sure enough. The gent has left the descrip-
tion with the police, you may take your oath of it
Best bring it to me. As to the silver bits, TU send
one to a nephew of mine up in London who can
dispose of it without suspicion, and for this gold
ril melt it up at once, so as to be all safe, and give
you the value according to the weight, and that
will be all square. ' Then, if there's any more of
it," he added, peering into her eyes, " you might
bring it to me by degrees, bit by bit, you know,
and then nobody would suspect anything.'*

Mrs. Bulfinch thought this was the best she
could do. She saw the piece of gold, with the
curious pattern of circles, weighed, and heard the
Jew declare the amount in Troy weight, but
schooling did not go so far in her days, so she
could not follow his reckoning.

He proceeded, however, to propose to her to
take the ulster she had been studying as part of
the payment, telling her what it had been worth
when new. It was good cloth, and well made, and
not very dirty, and Walter really wanted a great-

30 THE TREASURES IN THE MARSHES.

coat, SO she made up her mind to take it She
ako carried home half-a-sovereign, much needed
for the rent at quarter-day, and eighteen pence for
the two coins for Walter's diversion. Much as she
required warmer petticoats, and though the wind
seemed blowing right through the black serge that
looked so neat, the loving mother never so much
as thought of providing anything for herself out of
the spoils.

But had she done as much for the best for her-
self and her son as if her first thought had been
not what was prudent before man, but what was
right before God ?

CHAPTER IV.

KATE.

And yet her nature was as frank

And face as mountain air.
The clouds that gathered on her brow

Would never tarry there.

Mrs. Sewell, Ballads,

ALTER was looking out for his mother
when she came home, tired, but with
the sense that she had done well for him,
and quite expecting him to be pleased with the
big coat that she had carried home, and which had
grown heavier and heavier every furlong. But
when, in answer to his "What have you got?**
she unrolled it, his countenance fell.

" Naught but an old second-hand ulster. That
there Jew must have done you."

" But look, Wat, it is real good cloth — will wear
ever so long, look handsome, and keep you dry."
" I hate an ulster ! Gets about one's legs —
mucky old thing! How it stinks of old baccy!"

32 THE TREASURES IN THE MARSHES.

Under other circumstances, Walter thought
tobacco the most charming scent in the world.

" Well, I can take out the lining and put it in
fresh,*' said his mother, with a sigh of disappoint-
ment. "Just look — such good stuff, it must have
cost pounds and pounds new. No shoddy there."

" Fd rather have new shoddy than a stinking
old thing like this,'' said Walter, sulkily.

" You can change it, if you won't have it," said
the poor mother, " but I did fancy you would have
been pleased. Try it on, do'^

"How much did you give for it?" asked the
ungracious boy.

She told him all the history of her bargaining,
and explained that not a word must be said to
any one, not even to Kate, if they chanced to see
her. " She is a good maid, but maids have
tongues."

Walter nodded. All the while he sat on the
table with his hands in his pockets, and his hat on
his head, never heeding that she was bustling
about, tired as she was, to revive the fire, boil up
the kettle, and get the tea ready. He only grunted
now and then, and made such observations here
and there as " Rum old chap," or " He knew

KATE. 33

what he was at" When she handed him the
eighteen pence, he made a face at it. " What !
Is this all I am to have, when I found it all ? I
don't call that fair!"

" Well, you know, Wattie dear, if you went and
spent a lot all at once, it might bring you into
trouble."

Perhaps he saw the force of this, for he gave a
long whistle, but added : " Haven't you got noth-
ing else ? I thought at least you would have got
somewhat good for a feast after such a find."

Mrs. Bulfinch was obliged to confess that she
had never thought of it. Men do think so much
more of eating and drinking than do women, to
whom the preparation is only a burthen. At this,
Walter broke out into insistence that he would
have something good for supper. He wasn't going
to have naught but tea and bread and salt butter
— pooh! when all the find was his doing. His
mother must give him some of the tin to get
something with.

Rent, did she say ? Stuff and nonsense ! She
had only to change another of those gold bits to
pay the rent for a year, let alone a quarter.

He said so much that her thrifty mind yielded to

34 THE TREASURES IN THE MARSHES.

the sense that it was hard that the poor lad should
not have some pleasure out of his own discovery,
and she actually gave him a florin out of the tea-
pot where her quarter's rent was accumulating.
He walked off with it, whistling, while she fed the
pig and bestirred herself about her other business.

Happily he was not old enough for it to be a
temptation to linger at the " White Stag " for the
sake of company, and he came back with a quart
pot of ale, a string of sausages, and a bit of bacon
and fresh butter.

It did not take very long before a savoury meal
was made ready, and after it Walter was in much
better humour, and condescended to try on the
ulster, by the light of the little paraffin lamp.

While he was stretching in it, and considering
whether the sleeves were too long, there was a
hand on the door, which they had not fastened up,
and a girl opened it, with a little curtsey, then a
scream of laughter.

" Wat ! Wat ! I thought it was a gentleman !
What a swell you are — I thought 'twas the doctor ! *'

"Kate! Kate!" — as she hugged them both —
but Mrs. Bulfinch*s first cry was, "You hain't out
of place again?*'

KATE. 35

" Tve got another situation, and better wages,"
returned Kate. " I would not write to tell you
beforehand till *twas settled, you would be so put
about. It is with real gentlefolks, twelve pounds
a year, mammy, and four servants kept — to help
housemaid and in the kitchen.'*

" I hope you will keep it,*' said Mrs. Bulfinch,
as severely as ever she spoke to her pretty Kate.
" Oh dear, you want some supper, and I am afraid
Wat has finished all the beer."

" Never mind, mother dear, Tm temperance, and
could only have a drop of tea or coffee," said Kate.
"My!" as the last sausage was produced to be
warmed up. ** Tm come in good time, it seems,
and Fm ever so hungry — walked from Bridge-
worth."

Kate Bulfinch was a pleasant sight as she took
off her little round velvet-trimmed hat with two
round, fuzzy, scarlet balls, which she called pom-
pons, and showed her neat dark hair, bright soft
black eyes, and brown face very like her brother's,
only a good deal more refined, from living in houses
with more shelter and more washing.

Kate had been at first a very naughty small
child at the village school, then an exceedingly

36 THE TREASURES IN THE MARSHES,

good and bright giri, the prime scholar and favour-
ite of the young lady who helped at the Sunday
School for a few years. In fact, she was a sus-
ceptible, impressionable creature, who depended
very much on her surroundings. She was quite
sincere when she was with good people, but she
led two lives, as it were — a home and a school life
— and the two threads were not well twisted to-
gether into one line, though, poor child! it was
hardly her own fault.

She was not quite in her teens when she went
to " a little place.** She was now seventeen, and
in those four years and a half she had been in
seven situations. She left the first because she
was really not strong enough for it, and had a
pain in her side ; the second, because she left the
perambulator in the sun while she gossiped ; the
third, because she would tell the children to deny
that she had given them sweets ; the fourth, be-
cause she did not like hashed meat ; the fifth, be-
cause she was not allowed her Sunday evenings
out ; the sixth, by no fault of her own, but because
of a break-up of the establishment; the last, as
she now explained, because the lodgers were going
away, and she would not be wanted, so that her

r

KATE. 37

mistress had recommended her to a family who
had been staying at Bridgeworth, and were going
to their home in another county in a week's
time.

" It is a long way ! " sighed Mrs. Bulfinch.

" Not so long as you think, mother ; it is only
two hours by rail, and I do want to get farther
off, and start fresh. Tm sorry to leave Alice
Crediton, but Tm sick of Awmouth and Bridge-
worth."

There was a good deal in this. Their registry
offices knew Kate Bulfinch a great deal too well ;
and she did not fancy hearing, " So here you are
again." All her seven mistresses had, however,
said she was a good girl to work, honest, and
good-tempered, but she had been silly, frivolous,
disobedient, self-willed, and sometimes untruthful,
and there was something discreditable in chang-
ing so often. So that, though she had not writ-
ten beforehand, and though she had come home
to wish her mother good-bye, and bring her her
last gifts and five shillings out of her wages, she
only came for two nights. She had left her box
with her mistress at Bridgeworth, and did not
wish to be seen by the neighbours, who would

38 THE TREASURES IN THE MARSHES,

hold up their hands and say, "Well, I never!"
and talk about bad shillings.

" You don't go for a week, you say," observed
Mrs. Bulfinch, wistfully, when the gifts had been
duly admired. "Then couldn't you stay over
Sunday, and I should see a little more of you."

" Oh no, I couldn't. I must get back for the
rehearsal. Didn't I tell you ? There's to be such
a grand temperance fete on Tuesday as never was.
Why don't you belong to the temperance, Wat ? "

" Catch me," was Walter's answer.

"What's the good?" returned his mother.
"The lad never was fond of drink, nor I either!
I'm sure I never taste it but by chance from one
week's end to another."

" It's all very well for women-folk," put in
Walter, " but a man must have some'at to do his
work on."

"Whom are you working for now, Wat?"
asked Kate, quite innocently; but Walter an-
swered angrily, " There's no such thing as work-
ing for Old Hunks. He is a foul-tongued old fel-
low, as is at one for nothing at all."

" Oh!" said Kate, in a meaning voice.

"You need not talk," said Walter. "You that
never keep a place six months."

KATE. 39

"Come, come/* broke in the mother; "I can't
abide words. What's this about a fete, did you
say, Kate?"

"There's to be ever such a fete on Tuesday,"
she returned. "A great tea, where all the ladies
take tables, and it is who will have the best cakes
and muffins and cream and jam. Oh! won't we
stuff!" smacking her lips; while Walter growled
under his voice, " Greedy pigs ! and then go on
at a poor chap having a pint."

" That's not all," went on Kate ; " for there are
ladies and gentlemen — reverend gentlemen high
up in the Church — coming to address us, and they
do make moving speeches. Oh! I do love a
moving speech that makes you cry enough to
break your heart!"

"As much as buttered muffin," muttered Wal-
ter, but she did not heed him.

"All about brutes of men beating their poor
little babies to death, and mothers pawning their
babies' last rag, till one is just in 'sterics, and ready
to take a dozen pledges."

" How can you tell when you haven't heard
them?" asked Walter.

" Oh ! I've heard lots of them. Once a week
some one goes on at the hall. But that's not all.

40 THE TREASURES IN THE MARSHES,

There's to be a concert, and Fm to sing, mother —
I'm to sing in all the choruses — and to recite.
Tm to recite ' Exit Tommy/ You would like to
hear it, mother; it is so sweet."

So Kate stood up and repeated that very pretty
and tender poem of Langbridge's with a good
deal of feeling and so much effect that one of her
audience cried and the other snored.

CHAPTER V.

THE COLLAR.

A bracelet on her wrist.

Scott, St, John^s Eve.

ALTER and Kate were very fond of
each other, but when they were small
children it was the sort of affection that
seems to be worked up through a great deal of
wrangling, and though in these after-years they
were always very happy to meet, it does not tend
to peace to have a great lad lounging about a
house with nothing to do, and no willingness to
do the things he might find ready to hand, such
as cleaning out the pig-sty, or pulling up the weeds
which were beginning to show in the garden.

He said the sty would soon be as dirty again,
and the weeds were too small to be worth pulling
up — which, unfortunately, was too much the prin-
ciple on which his mother had brought up her
children.

41

42 THE TREASURES IN THE MARSHES,

Kate, however, was never idle, and while her
mother was elbow-deep in her wash-tub in the
back kitchen, she was mending his stockings, while
he sat upon the table and kicked his heels in a
way that quite provoked her. In the complacent
recollection of the five shillings and the warm
gloves she had brought her mother, and the bright
crimson tie she had given him, she began to be-
stow good advice on him, about finding work, a
great big chap like him, and being a burthen on
his mother.

Walter laughed in a meaning sort of way.
" That's all you know about it,'* he said.

"Walter! you've not been after the birds
again?"

" Not a bit of it! Ah, ha! But I know some
one as has got ever so much more in one afternoon
than all your fine coach-wheel there. Ay, or
than you would get in a year by scrubbing pans! *'

'* I have twelve pounds a year and all found,**
said Kate, proudly.

Walter laughed the more, perhaps with a little
more zest because his mother called out, " Don't
be snapping and quarrelling there," and teasing
her amused him.

THE COLLAR, 43

*' Tm not quarrelling," called back Kate ; '* I
only want to know what Walter is at/*

"Ah! wouldn't you like it?'* he returned.

"Come, Tm sure there's some secret! One
would think you had found a purse of gold sov-
ereigns.'*

This was so near the fact that both laughed,
and then it all came out, amid Mrs. Bulfinch's
injunctions to Kate never to breathe a word about
it to living soul, and the girl's promises to that
effect. Of course she burnt to see the hoard;
but her mother insisted that the inner box should
only be opened upstairs, out of sight of chance
arrivals, unless Kate would wait till night, which
of course she would not do. So the workbox was
carried up, and all the contents spread out on Mrs.
Bulfinch's bed. Kate was not much interested in
the coins, nor in the broken pieces of metal, but
she was in raptures with the collar, which she said
was "a duck" and "a perfect love," and she
wanted to try it on ; but there was no fastening
to undo, and as she had a great deal of pretty
brown hair, very nicely kept and plaited, it would
not go on, but stuck fast at her ears, making quite
a white mark round her cheeks, while Walter

44 THE TREASURES IN THE MARSHES,

stood laughing at her, and declaring that, if she
once got it on, she would have to wear it for life,
unless she cut either it or all her hair off.

As it was, she did not get out of it very easily,
but then she wound it round her wrist, which it
encircled twice, very prettily, *' Just like," she said,
" the bangles that ladies wear. O Wat, dear ! do
let me have it for my own — it does look so sweet !
Don't let the old Jew get it to melt up. Such an
awful pity!'*

*' Well, I don't see why you shouldn't. It's a
trumpery thing, all hollow, very thin and light,"
said Walter, giving it a twist with his hard, rough,
blackened hands, which made his sister scream;
but, to her surprise, it had done the delicate, in-
geniously worked scales no harm. The whole
thing was, as he said, double, each scale fitting
nearly over the other, and as elastic as possible.
Kate was charmed with the ungracious gift, and
kissed her brother ecstatically for it, receiving a
growl in answer; but running down in great
delight to tell her mother what Walter had given
her.

Mrs. Bulfinch was rather taken aback, but she
was so fond of her daughter as to be unwilling to

THE COLLAR. 45

balk her enjoyment, and to like to omsiment her.
Nor had she, any more than Walter, any notion
as to what the value of the collar might be;
indeed, its likeness to cheap jewellery made her
somewhat despise it,- besides that its light weight
made her think it not precious. The Jew paid by
weight, and this was the only entire article capa-
ble of identification in the collection, except of
course the coins ; and if this hoard really were, as
he hinted, the hidden or thrown-away spoil of a
robbery, it was much safer neither to have it in
her own house nor to let the Jew be tempted to
display it. It really would be safer to let Katie
carry it off into " the Shires," where there was no
chance of its being suspected or tracked.

However, she observed, " You'll take care about
it, Katie — and not wear it about the house."

" I should think not," said Kate, laughing, ** but
there are times, mother, and parties, when one's
mistress does not meddle."

"And don't be too free of showing it, nor telling
how you came by it."

"I'm not that foolish, mammy dear; I won't
bring you and Walter into trouble."

"And, Kate, I do hope you will be a good girl

46 THE TREASURES IN THE MARSHES,

and keep this situation. So far off, it ain't like
having home to go to, close by."

'* Yes, mother, I do mean to keep my place this
time. You know now it was not my doing that I
got the sack. Fm older now, and I know one
must put up with things, and I don't mean to stir,
come what may, till I have got a year's character."

" There then, dear, I hope you'll keep to your
word, for it don't look well to have you always
coming back."

No one knew that better than Kate. She was
really a sensible girl, with a good deal of right
feeling, and a warm heart ; but, as often happens
with young girls in service, she had had to learn
by experience of her own, and she had just come
to the age when she was beginning to profit by
such experience. Indeed, her two last situations
had been with kind careful mistresses who had
had a good effect upon her. Affectionate girl as
she was, she had a good friend, and of her own
age ; she had been going to a Bible class, which
had done much to revive those better impressions
of her Sunday School days which had been almost
forgotten.

She was what mistresses call *' dressy," with all
a young girl's love of pretty things, not always in

THE COLLAR. 47

good taste, and her temper was apt to resent any
check or remonstrance on their part ; but she had
learnt of late that it was wiser not to give them
any occasion of offence, and to reserve her little
ornaments for times when she was not under their
jurisdiction. Some people would have called this
deceitful, or at least sly; but the notion never
entered Kate's mind, as she tripped off to the
Bridgeworth temperance festival, with her bracelet
pushed up under her sleeve till she was out of
sight of her mistress, and then pulled down so that
the soft pale yellow gleam might delight her be-
tween the cuff and the glove.

The tea, the cream, the muffins, the potted
sardines, the marmalade are no part of the story,
nor are the speeches which moved Katie to her
heart's content, nor even her recital of *' Exit
Tommy,** which she gave with a good deal of real
power and pathos, making many cry, and raising
such a storm of applause as quite frightened her,
with a pleasant agitated sort of fright.

Her Bible-class lady met her as she moved from
the platform, and said, **Very nicely repeated,
Katie; it is a most affecting little piece" — then,
after a pause, "Where did you get that bangle,
Katie?*' she asked, in a disapproving voice.

48 THE TREASURES IN THE MARSHES,

** My brother gave it to me, ma'am/' said Kate,
colouring.

**Ah! your soldier brother in India, I sup-
pose ? **

Kate let it pass, and found her place among
those chairs which were kept foremost for the
people who were to sing in the choruses. There
she found herself next to Alice Crediton, who was
in service at Bridgeworth. Their mothers were
cousins, and had been great friends, and the two
girls used to meet to go to their classes and to
church together. Indeed, it was mainly owing to
Alice that Kate had gone to the Bible class or
taken the temperance pledge.

Now she caught hold of Kate's hand, exclaim-
ing in a whisper, " My, what a beauty ! I never
saw the like! How good of Jem to send it!"

Kate remembered her mother's words of warn-
ing, and held her tongue.

*'And do you know what our Chris has found? "
went on Alice ; but at that moment came the sum-
mons to the platform, and the two girls did not
meet again in the crowd all the evening. What
our Chris had found must be told in another
chapter.

CHAPTER VI.

A KING CUP.

There are some,
Of whose plain lives the tongue of fame is dumb,
Who labour simply in some low estate,
And neither are, nor dream of being, great.

W. E. LiTTLEWOOD, The Shepherds.

i\^ ^^HERE was a South Lychford as well
as a North Lychford, but the inhabit-
ants of the one did not know much of
the other; for the river Awe was wide at all
times, and had a great border of marshy land on
either side, over which no one had yet ventured
to build a bridge. The nearest bridge was more
than two miles up the river, and the South Lych-
ford people frequented Bridgeworth for their
shopping more than Awmouth, which they could
only have reached in a little coughing steam ferry
across the estuary.

The southern bank was not so desolate as the
northern. It rose a little more, and there had

49

50 THE TREASURES IN THE MARSHES,

been some attempt at digging drains, so that the
grass was less rushy, though there were very wet
patches, and great pools left by the overflowing of
the river, with soft quaking ground all round
them, and some of the ditches down which the
water should have been running had got choked
with mud and dead weeds.

Lapwings were there too. They had begun
screaming and making as great a commotion as
their cousins on the other side, when first they
saw a lad coming down among them ; but pres-
ently they perceived that he was not concerning
himself about them, or their eggs, so they attended
to their own affairs ; only the one whose nest he
approached most nearly keeping a watch on him,
walking up and down on long slender legs, with
an eye cocked back under the long crest.

Chris Crediton would not have objected to carry
away a few eggs, but he had no time to look for
them. He had been sent down to clear out the
choked ditches and drains so that the water might
run off into the river — rather a responsible work
for a boy of seventeen; but Chris was sensible
and trustworthy, and his master. Farmer Hutchins,
thought him quite capable.

A KING CUP, 51

He worked hard with his big spade, thinking it
a pleasant sight to see the stagnant black water
wake and stir, the weeds and leaves to move, the
thick white bubbles collected into a yellow foam
begin to twist round and sail away, and the stream
to ripple off in search of the river. He was not
quite without an eye for the wagtails, or dish-
washers, as he called them, flirting their tails mer-
rily up and down, and for a blue flash of kingfisher
now and then, but what he looked most heedfuUy
for was the flowers on the hedges. All the little
schoolgirls delighted in carrying their best flow-
ers to Mrs. Fletcher, the Vicar's wife, and it was
everybody's great ambition to take her one that
she had never seen before. Chris had a turn him-
self for flowers, and he had great hopes of sending
Susan happy to school with some choice treasure
to present. It was, however, earlier in the season
than choice flowers usually come out, and he had
lighted upon nothing more precious than a few
double milkmaids (cardamine). Presently, how-
ever, in the swamp he saw something strange, half
hidden. At first he thought it only some old tin
or iron vessel, and hesitated to plunge over his
ankles after it; but something strange in the

52 THE TREASURES IN THE MARSHES,

shape and colour struck him. He made a couple
of long strides, sinking in a good deal, and then
was surprised at the weight of the thing his hands
brought up — a large deep cup of metal, brass
probably, for it was eaten up with verdigris, and
stufTed full of coins which Chris knew to be old,
for he went to the night school, read Lending
Library books, and had seen pictures. He also
brought up a much tarnished gold cross, with
some curious carving and a broken bit of chain ;
but he could not look long, as his work had to be
finished that evening, so he could only put the
wonderful collection under his coat, which he had
laid in a tuft of rushes, and went on breaking
down the masses of refuse that stopped the course
of the stream, wondering meantime, whenever his
business would allow him, what these things were,
and what would become of them.

He had no thought of their belonging to any
one but Farmer Hutchins, for he had been bred
up to strictly honest ways; but there was no
reason against every one at home seeing them
first, and enjoying the examination. So, a little
later than the regulation time, when the sun was
setting, round and red, shorn of his beams by the

A KING CUP. 53

blue east- wind mist, he put on his coat, shouldered
his spade, took the strange vessel under his arm,
and plodded across the marsh, pleased to mark the
little streamlets running merrily down their courses,
and the ground around them already looking less
wet where he had first begun. His home was in
the midst of the village, with a hawthorn hedge
round it, just getting into bud, and long evergreen
streamers of periwinkle on the bank, a few blue
blossoms coming up among them. The short path
to the house was neat with ashes, and double
daisies and spring flowers blossomed beside it,
while under the window was a stage of Chris's
own making for his myrtle and geraniums, which
at present had to look out through the lattice.
The door was open, and a whole flock of children
rushed out to meet him with '* How late you are,
Chris ! " " Mother is keeping some tea for you ! *'
"Have you any flowers for Mrs. Fletcher?"
"What have you got?"

Mother, a pale, worn, but pleasant-looking
woman, was putting away the tea-things with her
eldest girl to help her. Father, a hard-working
carter, who had been out since five in the morning,
was half asleep on one side of the fire. Granny,

54 THE TREASURES IN THE MARSHES.

on the opposite side, held the big baby, which
kicked and laughed as Chris came in, answering,
'* Hadn't finished!'' ''There, if I didn't forget
your flowers!" " But see what I have got!"

They all came round with eager cries, the mother
calling out first, " Not on my clean table. It's all
of a drip ! Bless me, Chris ! How could you bring
that dirty thing in here ? Take it out this moment."

"Mother! I think it is gold and silver," said
Chris, standing at the door.

" Gold and silver! It is an old copper tinker's
pot. Wherever did you find it?"

" I dug it up out by the long dyke ! I saw it
sticking out of the ground, and look ! I do believe
this is a golden cross— "

Here the father roused up. " Gold, did you
say? Take it off at once to Mr. Hutchins: he
has a right to it, and we haven't got none."

'* O daddy ! " was the cry, *' do let us look at
the things."

" Yes, that can't do no harm," said Mrs. Credi-
ton, *' and poor Chris must get his tea before he
goes out again. Susie, you get the old tarpaulin
and spread it, and we will turn out the things.
All safe, father! Ain't it, Granny ? "

A KING CUP, 55

" Don't see no good in it. 'Tis the farmer's/*
muttered Christopher the elder, subsiding into his
chair, but he was not apt to interfere with what
his wife and mother chose to do in the house ; he
was tired out, and did not even take the trouble
to grumble at the curiosity of womenfolk, only ob-
serving that they must look out that the little ones
did not meddle nor take nothing away, but it must
be put back just as it was. The cup showed signs
of being either gold or something gilt ; the cross
was certainly gold, so was the broken chain ; there
was another silver cross, together with some broken
fragments richly chased, and some coins.

" Dear, dear," said Granny, " I heard tell when
I was a young maid that there were ever so many
bones and things got up on that there marsh, long,
long agone, when they dug the drains."

"Bones! men's bones?" said Chris, in an awe-
struck voice.

"Ay, ay, so they said, but I can't say — ! 'Twas
long ago, when the wars was."

"The wars! Was it a battle-field?" asked
twelve-year-old Susan, in tones of wonder.

"Spoil! like what one reads about," said Chris.
"When could it have been?"

56 THE TREASURES IN THE MARSHES.

"Belike in King Alfred's time," said Susan.

" Come now," called father, " young ones, don't
be after talking about kings and stuff. Have you
done, Chris? Put the things back, and be off with
them."

" Mammy, please mayn't I keep this pretty little
dolly?" entreated little three-year-old Amy; but
. this only brought her quite a hard stroke on her
hand.

" Never be after asking for what's none of youm,
you bad child!" old Christopher said roughly.

The little girl stared, at first in amazement at
anything so unusual, then burst into a roar, and
ran to her mother, who picked her up, and kissed
her, and told her daddy only wanted her not to
be a naughty girl and ask for what wasn't theirs.
She would know better next time. Meantime
daddy watched heedfully and uneasily, till all
the articles, whatever they might be, were safely
restored to the cup, which Granny called a coffee-
pot, but about which Chris and Susie had their
own opinions, which they discussed, when Susie, by
special favour, was allowed to help Chris carry the
deep double-handled basket into which mother for
more security had put the treasure.

^

A XING CUP. 57

It may be seen that Christopher Creditor! the
elder was an honest man, though no genius. In
fact, every one was somewhat sorry when bright
AUce Locock married him from good service. She
and her cousin Bessy had been much together in
their early days, and still were glad to meet ; but
Bessy had early married her handsome, flighty,
gipsy-looking Bill Bulfinch, while Alice had been
engaged to Kit Crediton from her school days up-
wards, and knew him to be a faithful, good, steady,
religious man, and an excellent son, and saw no
reason to break with him because he was not
clever, nor very strong, and was never likely to
rise. Indeed, her love for him had grown up with
her, and now after nineteen years it was just as
strong as ever, and full also of loyal respect. He
had always been kind and patient, and what did it
matter if he had very few words, except chirruping
now and then to the little ones — never cared to
touch a book, and had nearly forgotten how to
read? She could always read the Bible and
Prayers to him, and find out the places when he
went to church, turned out in homely style, but
most tidily.

Neither of them being strong, and having a

58 THE TREASURES IN THE MARSHES.

rheumatic mother on their hands, they had had
hard times, and Mrs. Crediton's nest egg of savings
had melted away; but they had always kept
their heads above water, and the worst of the
struggle seemed over, since the eldest girl was
out, Chris earned wages all the year round, and
Tom when there was a press of work. Moreover,
Kit's trustworthy character had made him carter,
where, if he often had harder work, he had higher
wages, and was valued by his master as never
likely to misuse the horses or to do anything on
the sly. In fact, he had won respect by character,
as cleverness never will win it without trustiness.

However, most of the children took after their
mother. Of course they were regular at school,
and it would be hard to say whether their father
were more proud of their successes, or worried at
seeing them reading and talking over their lessons
in a way that he declared would spoil them for an
honest day's work.

And when Chris wanted to go to the night
school, he saw no good in all that. The boy could
read his Bible, and write a letter, and all the rest
was only gentlefolks' fads. However, when Mrs.
Crediton represented that it was much better for

A KING CUP. 59

Chris to have this occupation instead of " getting
about " in the evening, though he said " he'd give
'un the stick if ever he did/' and thought bed or
iozing over the fire all that was needful after a
day's work, he gave in to parson and wife together,
and thus it was that Chris had not forgotten his
English history.

CHAPTER VII.

LIGHTS IN THE DARK.

The knotgrass fettered there the hand
That once could burst an iron band.

Scott, Lady of the Lake*

LEASE, sir, here's the Crediton boy
come up with something he has found
on the meads, and that he says he must
give into your own hands."

"Oh! I hope it's a kingfisher's nest," cried
one boy, jumping up from his lesson books.
" Or some young wild ducks," added another.
" I hope not. They will all die," said Mrs.
Hutchins, going on with the frock she was em-
broidering, while Mr. Hutchins yawned, and fin-
ished his article in the county paper ; but the first
boy rushed back. **Papa! he says it is a pot
choke-full of gold and silver, and old Kit said he

must give it into your own hands!"

60

LIGHTS IN THE DARK, 6 1

" Pot of gold and silver! My stars! Call him
in, Bertie ; we must see it here.*'

So Susan, still holding to her handle for very
curiosity, followed her brother into the parlour,
rather an awful place to her, though Mrs. Hutchins
had a still grander room for show, and Susan was
quite used to Mrs. Fletcher's drawing-room. But
this had a bunch of wax flowers under a shade,
and two great silver ploughing cups, besides the
glass and cruets on the sideboard, which had struck
her with respect.

"Come, let's see, Chris," said the farmer;
*' what have you picked up? "

'* Please, sir, it is very dirty," said Chris, as they
signed to him to turn the things out on the green
cloth covering the big dining-table. " I dug it
out by the long dyke in Black Mead. Mother
would have washed it, sir, but father said you
should have it just as it was."

" Your father's an honest man, and so are you,"
responded the farmer, spreading out his newspaper
to receive the cup and its contents. " Ha!" tap-
ping the cup, " this is the real thing, and no mis-
take. It is like a church flagon — brass gilt, I
should fancy."

62 THE TREASURES IN THE MARSHES,

*'And there are a couple of crosses," added
Chris.

" Old work, old work," said the farmer.

" Here's an image, a little saint, only very
roughly made," added his wife. "As if some old
church had been robbed."

"Ay, or you know there was that poor old gen-
tleman at the Awmouth hotel was robbed of ever
so many antiques. It might be that, thrown away
or hidden by the burglars," said Mr. Hutchins.
" We must look into it. Coins, eh, Bertie ? Too
black and muddy to see what they are, even if
I were a judge; but I must show them to Mr.
Fletcher in the morning. He told me once that
the name of the place was from the crosses that
were strewn here — Lych, like the Lych-gate, you
know. There had been a battle at the river, Danes
and Saxons, I think."

" Please, sir. Granny said she'd heard tell of
bones being found."

" Well, my boy, here's a shilling for you ; you
are a good lad ! Mary, there, give them a bit of
supper. I don't know by just rights who has a
claim to these things, and it must be looked into,
but you did the proper thing to bring them to me ! "

--ILXUA.

LIGHTS IN THE DARK, 63

"Quite right," said Mrs. Hutchins, going into
the kitchen and directing Mary to set before them
a piece of cold veal pie ; nor did they live so well
at home as to hinder their good appetite for it
after their walk of nearly a mile since tea-time.

They tramped home together under the stars,
very happy and satisfied, and not minding the
dark in each other's company. For, great fellow
as Chris was, he did not love to be alone in that
long lane after nightfall, though he had no objec-
tion to being with his mates in the village; but
then there were all the lights from the cottage
windows and plenty of noise and fun, so that if it
had not been for knowing that mother would wait
for him, and be displeased as well as tired out, he
would often have lingered after night school or
choir practice.

They paused at the gate of the Black Mead, for
Susan wanted to have the place where Chris found
the hoard pointed out to her; but they both
started back, for there was a slender light far away
over the marsh, like a very pale candle in a fog.

" Oh dear, Chris ! It's something going about ! *'

"Hush!" and they took hold of each other's
hands and ran.

64 THE TREASURES IN THE MARSHES.

It was not till they were fairly beyond the
hedge and could see the parsonage windows that
Susan said, in a low voice, " Do you think it is
they old folk, because you got at their things?"

•* No, nonsense,'* said Chris, who in a long gasp
had recovered breath, senses, and courage. " It's
naught but a Jack-o* -lantern, such as comes in
damp, lost places.'*

" But Granny says there are spirits, Chris,
though mother don't like her to talk about them,
and they might be angry at your bucking about
there," said Susan, whose poor cold hand was all
trembling.

" Spirits, ay, sure enough, but not that sort,"
said Chris,, now quite his own self again. "I've
heard of this Jack-o'-lantern before — ask father if
he haven't seen 'em ! And I mind me when our
standard had to learn those pretty verses about
Mirth by a queer long name, one of the tales folk
round the hearth told was about

She was pinched and pulled, she said,
And he by Friar's Lantern led."

" But he was led," said Susie.
'* In the tale," said Chris, now very cheerily and
oracularly, ** and schoolmaster showed us the note

LIGHTS IN THE DARK, 65

that said it was just a sort of gas out of extra-
exhilarations — no, exhalations out of the damp,
and if a man was fool enough to run after it, why
he would be bogged as sure as life."

**Are you sure?" sighed Susan, a little sorry,
now it was over, not to have had the honour of
seeing the spirits of the slain. Meanwhile the
lamp and big window of the shop were making a
brilliant light all across the road.

"As sure as anything!" said Chris; "the farm-
er gave me this here for myself, and I must take
home some baccy to father. He hasn't had none
this month, and his pipe do stop him from cough-
ing when he wakes up in these cold mornings."

So in they went to the bright shop that sold
almost everything, cheeses and kettles, ready-
made boots and shoes, tobacco and groceries ; and
a variety of barrels, with grease, oil, or butter
impeded the way; crockery, pipes elegantly
crossed, and smart advertisements adorned the
window, and piles of loaves stood up in the comer.

While waiting behind the broad backs of two
women and one man, Chris added to his sister,
" Fd like to take a cake or a goody to Amy,
'cause father hit her."

66 THE TREASURES IN THE MARSHES,

"I never knew him hit one of the little ones
before, and she's his pet ! *' said Susan ; " poor little
maid!"

"She had what wasn't her own," said Chris,
fully satisfied of the justice ; " she'll remember it.
But I'd like that cake with goodies atop for her!"

"Won't you take nothing home for mother?"
asked Susan, wistfully.

" I shall take sixpence to her, and she had
rather have that," said Chris, all of whose wages
went in a lump to mother every Saturday, and did
no more than pay for his keep, his clothes, his
benefit club, and the like, with threepence a week
for night school, and another threepence in his
pocket. The boys sometimes jeered him for being
kept so short, but his answers were of only two
sorts. One sort was: "There are eight of us,"
and " I know when I've got a good mother."
And the other kind was : " What's that to you ? "
or if it were near the end of the week, "I say,
hsiv^you got as much as threepence?"

Fourpence' worth of tobacco was bought and
paid for, and Chris ventured on asking the price
of the Bath-bun, when, to his great joy, kind Mrs.
Jones told him the lot had grown stale and dry,

UGHTS IN THE DARK. 67

and she could let him have the whole half-dozen
for twopence.

So the brother and sister went over their last
steps in great glory and content, only regretting
that both Amy and father were pretty sure to be
gone to bed. However, the church clock struck
eight as they passed, and they found father still
dozing by the fire, till mother should have finished
getting the teething baby off to sleep upstairs, and
Amy on his knee, waiting for Susan or mother to
undress her ; for she rebelled against poor Gran-
ny's rheumatic hands, sleepy and cross as she was.

Chris's paper bag was a brilliant consolation.
She hugged him, and Susan carried her off with a
shriek of joy, a quarter of a bun for present solace
and the further promise of making a feast for all
the rest (now safe in bed) to-morrow.

'* Farmer gave me a shilling, and said he would
find out who has the best right to the things,*'
was Chris's explanation, which quite satisfied his
father. " *Twas for myself, so I turned in and
bought you some baccy."

" Well, Chris boy, you be a good boy to your
father." Those were the thanks, and as to
mother, who heard the whole story (except the

68 THE TREASURES IN THE MARSHES,

Will-o'-the-wisp) from Susan upstairs, she too said
he was her good lad, and she would have liked for
him to keep his sixpence for himself, but then
Lucy's boots did want mending dreadfully. With
that Chris was able to say his prayers happily that
night before lying down by snoring Tom, who was
not of the wakeful lively variety of the Crediton
family.

CHAPTER VIII.

AN OLD BATTLE-FIELD.

In the last battle.

Borne down by the flying,
Where mingles war's rattle

With groans of the djring.

Scott, Marmion,

HRIS was helping his father to cut
down some hay from the rick when
the two Hutchins boys, who were day-
boarders at Bridgeworth Modem School, came
past. " Hallo, Chris," Bertie called out, " mamma
has scrubbed up your things, and they are stun-
ning — all gold, no mistake. I'm to call at the
parsonage and ask Mr. Fletcher to cdme and look
at them, and tell Mr. Ripley, too.**

Mr. Ripley lived in Bridgeworth, and being
agent to Lord EUerslie, most of the people in the
parish paid their rents into his hands. As the

boys ran oflf to start on their two miles' walk, Ber-

69

70 THE TREASURES IN THE MARSHES.

tie turned back and said, " Oh ! and Chris is not
to be far oflf in C£ise they want him."

"There!" said old Kit, with an odd sort of grin,
" you did right, my son. Right's right, whatever
comes of it."

However, he was quite as strict as ever over
Chris keeping diligently to his work, and called
him sharply to order for craning up his neck to
look over the hedge of the field where they were
spreading manure when he heard Mr. Ripley's
dog-cart in the roadway.

" Oh, you think they can't do naught without
thee," said he, rather derisively.

No, I only wanted to know," hesitated Chris.
Pots don't boil no better for being watched,"
observed Master Crediton, and Chris could but
pick out a load with his fork.

However, before very long little Miss Ruby's
slender black legs might be seen climbing up the
gate, and her voice called out, *' Chris Crediton !
Please you are to come in to tell the gentlemen
how you found the things, and you are to stay
and have dinner, and go down to show where you
found them."

Old Kit was half gratified, half disposed to

tt

it

AN OLD BATTLE-FIELD. 7 1

grumble at the mass of strong brown stuflf left for
him to spread alone ; but he only muttered, *' Get
back as soon after as you can, as I sha'n't have
done to-night, and the weather's like to break.'*

"All right, father,*' responded Chris, thinkin^^,
however, that hands, boots, and buskins were not
in exactly the condition best suited for dining with
Mary and Louisa in that very clean place, the farm-
er's kitchen ; though a dinner there was a reward
in itself, both as a substantial meal and as leaving
all his share of the potatoes, onions, cabbage, and
bacon to the rest of the hungry family. He only
wished it had been Torn, who was a much more
hungry person than himself.

Little Miss Ruby chattered to him all the way
home and told him in a voice of meaning, " You
know, the fairies sometimes give people pockets
full of gold, and if they are not good, it all turns
into dead leaves and slate stones."

''That's bad for them, miss," said Chris.

" Yes ; but if they are good, it goes on growing
and growing. Do you know, Chris, there was a
man, and his name was Fortunatus, and whenever
he put his hand into his purse and gave to a beg-
gar, there was ever so much more next time."

72 THE TREASURES IN THE MARSHES,

"That was handy for him. But that's only
tales, not true, miss.*'

" So Bertie and Freddy say. But it is in my
book, and Mrs. Fletcher said it was true in a
way."

While Chris was thinking how it might be true
" in a way," they came to the back door, and
Chris was turned by Mary into the back kitchen,
so that he might be as little as possible what she
and he called "all of a muck" to go into the
parlour.

For thither, when he had become as much
cleaner as was possible under the circumstances,
he was summoned, to find there Mr. and Mrs.
Fletcher and Mr. Ripley, besides his master and
mistress, and all the articles of his discovery spread
out on the table before them, looking much
brighter for Mrs. Hutchins' work on them. The
gold, indeed, showed for what it was ; but the sil-
ver was still very black and tarnished, and Mrs.
Hutchins was talking of plate powder.

"No, no, Mrs. Hutchins, you had better not
take that to it," said Mr. Fletcher. " You might
just get off some important mark. We must leave
that for experts. Ha, Chris, good morning," as

AX OLD BATTLE-FIELD, 73

the lad stood at the open door pulling his forelock.
"You have made a great discovery/*

"Is that the boy?'* said Mr. Ripley. "An
honest boy, too."

" He takes after his father/' said the farmer.
" Here, Chris, up and tell them how you found it.*'

Chris, shyly but not stupidly, related how he
saw a " bit of some'at " standing out of the earth,
and pulled at it, found it heavy, took his spade to
it, and dug out the large round vessel which stood
before them, covered with curious patterns, a good
deal of it, especially in the hollows, quite green,
but the raised parts pale gold.

" Copper gilt, evidently," said the Vicar.

"And all the rest within it, eh?" asked the
agent. "All inside?"

"All inside, yes, sir."

"Yes, it is as I thought," said Mr. Ripley.
"When treasure is within anything, as though
hidden by design, it is the right of the Lord of the
Manor, not the tenant."

" It is as I thought," said Mr. Fletcher. " I
never expected otherwise."

"Though I am sure his lordship will only do
what is handsome by you and by the finder, too,"

74 THE TREASURES IN THE MARSHES,

added Mr. Ripley, looking at Chris, who gave
another pull of his forelock.

Then they got up to walk down to see the
place, all but Mrs. Hutchins. The lady of the
Vicarage chose to go too, though they told her
how swampy it would be, and the farmer desired
Chris to take his spade.

" Please, sir,*' Chris ventured to say to the
clergyman as they set out, " Granny says she has
heard tell, when she was a girl, that they used to
find bones down there in the marsh."

"Ah! no doubt. The name Lychford wit-
nesses to the slaughter there,** said Mr. Fletcher.
" You have read about the Danes? **

" Oh yes, sir.*'

"Well, I have seen a county history at the
Cathedral library, in which it appears that the
Danes — I think in Ethelbert*s time, not the Un-
ready, but Alfred's brother. You remember? **

" Yes, sir, the good one that would not fight till
churching was over.**

" Quite right, Chris. Well, they plundered and
burnt Sebertstone, where you know there's a piece
of a ruined monastery. The place where we kept
our choir festival.**

AN OLD BATTLE-FIELD, 75

'* Yes, sir," replied Chris.

"The Danes* fleet was in the mouth of the
river, and after the pillage of the place, they were
making for it, when the Saxons met them here,
cut them off from their fleet, burnt it, I believe,
and made a great slaughter, whence the two vil-
lages got their name of Lychford, that is, Corpse-
ford. I do not know much about such things, but
the work on the cup and crosses seemed to me
very old English, and one coin, I thought, was of
King Egbert."

" Then they would have thrown them away in
the fight," said Chris. *' But please, sir, there is
no ford; *tis all so squashy and squishy."

** The river is known to have altered its course.
You know it is always bringing down mud. It
is wider and shallower now than it was when the
earliest map of Lord Ellerslie*s property was
drawn, and the bed was more to the north side
than it is now. Mr. Ripley has papers showing
there was a lawsuit about it, more than a hundred
years ago. Besides, fords were kept in order
when there were fewer bridges. So you may
imagine all this space below us covered with
Danes fleeing or fighting for their lives, and fu-

76 THE TREASURES IN THE MARSHES.

rious English falling on them, and cutting them
down, and the river carrying away the wounded
and dead, or some lying about to be swallowed up
by the bog."

He spoke to the expression he saw in the lad's
thoughtful, wistful eyes, and as he ended, Chris
drew a long breath, as if he had been picturing it
to himself, and then said, "And it was a thousand
years ago."

"A thousand, yes — "

Then Mr. Fletcher was referred to, and Chris
had to fall into the rear with a great many
thoughts, or rather impressions, on his mind. To
have handled, nay, to be the very first to find, the
things robbed from a church, thrown away in that
terrible onslaught and flight, and hidden ever
since in the river shme, gave him a new sense of
the reality of the past and a perception that his-
tory was not only something written in a book.

His operations of the previous day had rendered
■,,.-MAnct m.>r-h Ibcc i-,f a succcssion of splashes, and
;11 as the rest, safely arrived at
hich was a landmark to Chris,
ch he had marked. The gen-
t they were sure Mr. Ripley's

AN OLD BATTLE-FIELD, 77

map would show it to be part of the former bed
of the river, where probably the ford would have
been, and they made Chris try round with his
spade, but he found nothing.
• " Let it alone for the present," said Mr. Ripley,
" till we can hear from his lordship."

" How soon can that be? " asked Mr. Hutchins.
'' He is going round the world, is he not, after this
new fashion?"

" In his steam yacht, yes — last time I heard, I
was to address him at Sydney. His answers
might come by the beginning of May, but I don't
expect he will be at home till towards the end of
the summer, when grouse are sure to bring him
back."

Chris wondered what grouse were or how they
could bring him back.

" Meantime," added Mr. Ripley, " till we know
the rights of the case, we must not have all the
loafers in the country treasure-seeking here. Will
the story have got about, do you think? "

" Well, Mr. Ripley, my boys have had no cau-
tion — more's the pity I did not think of it — and
they will have gone open-mouthed among their
schoolmates ; they were immensely excited at the

78 THE TREASURES IN THE MARSHES.

discovery/* said Mr. Hutchins, " and I suppose it
is all over the place too by this time, Chris."

"The little ones knew of it, sir,** said Chris.

"Then, of course, it can*t be helped,** said the
farmer, " but V\\ tell you what I'll do. I'll turn in
my cows, as I was thinking of doing before, and
give the bull a few runs with them, and if it once
gets about that old Jack is there, you may depend
none of the loafers will put in an appearance before
I lay it down for hay, and I'll get the hedge wired
and the gate too in the meantime."

The gentlemen laughed, and Mrs. Fletcher could
make no objection, though it argued ill for her
botany.

And Chris went away with a good dinner, an-
other shilling from the agent, and an assurance that
he would be remembered any way, and moreover
with a great many new ideas in his head.

«. \

CHAPTER IX.

WHAT DID HE GET BY IT?

Gold thou mayst quickly get ; but if it stick
Unto thy hands, it woundeth to the quick.

G. Herbert, The Church Porch,

iHE farmer was quite right. The won-
derful story of Chris Crediton's discov-
ery spread through Bridgeworth and
both the Lychfords ; and the " Awmouth Chron-
icle '* and the " Bridgeworth Weekly Intelligence *'
were credibly informed that a lad in the service
of Mr. Hutchins, etc. Indeed, the editor of the
former tried to extract information from the farmer
on the next market day, which had the effect of
so much alarming Mrs. Hutchins that she declared
she could not sleep till the treasure was safe out of
her house, and lodged in the Bridgeworth Bank,
whither it was accordingly driven by her husband
on the next Monday morning.

79

8o THE TREASURES IN THE MARSHES.

The report greatly excited both Mrs. Bulfinch
and Walter, who were resolved to learn what Chris
had found, and what he had done with it.

The two Lychfords were a good deal cut off
from each other by the river, for there was no good
bridge nearer than Bridgeworth ; but there was a
watermill a mile off, where the river narrowed, and
where there was a perilous-looking plank foot-
bridge across the mill-dam, and a punt was also
kept. Here, on the Sunday, Mrs. Bulfinch re-
solved to make her passage, recollecting that it was
two years and more since she had seen the face of
Alice Crediton, to whom she used to be like a
sister.

So as soon as the dinner on sheep's liver was
over, she dressed herself in her best black gown,
mantle, and bonnet, and proposed to Walter, who
was in his broadcloth suit and Kate's crimson tie,
to come with her.

" I don't mind if I come up as far as the river,**
said Walter ; '' but as to them Creditons on a Sun-
day, catch me!**

So he lounged along to the river by the side of
his mother, getting what diversion he could out of
knocking off all the young buds, and throwing

WHAT DID HE GET BY IT? 8l

stones at all the birds that came in his way, and
by-and-bye he saw a knot of three or four lads to-
gether, and wandered off to them, though the mill
was in sight, and his mother had begun to enter-
tain a faint hope that he meant to help her to cross
the river.

However, the miller's boy happened to be near,
and for threepence he put her across in the punt,
though he would not promise to be there when she
came back, and only laughed rudely at her not
liking to cross the narrow plank beside that deep
pool.

She put the matter out of her head for the pres-
ent, and walked on towards the slender spire that
rose from among the trees and roofs of houses.

She came up just as the afternoon congregation
was coming out, and she presently saw Mrs. Cred-
iton helping lame old Granny, who was bent almost
double, and little Amy trotting by her side.

" Bessy Locock ! I mean Mrs. Bulfinch ! Well,
I am glad to see you ! You are quite a stranger,
my dear. You are come to tea.**

It was a truly warm welcome, full of the affec-
tion of girlhood; but the young folk, Chris and
Tom from the choir, and Lucy and Jem from the

82 THE TREASURES IN THE MARSHES.

school-benches, were not so much charmed. For
there was to be a little feast to-day for Lucy's
birthday. Tom had been hired at the farm to look
after the cows and the old bull, but still more to
keep off trespassers. Moreover, Susan had had
sixpence for running errands, and, in honour of all
this and of Mr. Ripley's shilling, they were to have
for tea red herrings, a pot of jam, and buttered
cake, as soon as father had come in from his horses.
It had been put off to tea-time, that there might
be no hurrying off to school, from which Susan
had rushed home to look after the fire and the
baby.

"And now," as she said sorrowfully as she met
her brothers over the pig-sty, " I know how it will
be : poor mother will get nothing but the heads
and tails and backbones of the little ones."

So she would, only that since that horrid-sound-
ing feast had been put into his head, Chris, to
whom a whole herring was allotted in honour of
his being a man out at work, managed, while she
was pulling out the bones for Amy, to pop half his
fish into her plate, with a wink to Susan.

They were not nearly as merry as they had
meant to be, for father and the two big boys hardly
spoke at all, though Granny, Mrs. Bulfinch, and

WHAT DID HE GET BY IT? 83

the little ones had plenty to say. Mrs. Crediton
looked really glad and happy to see her cousin, just
when there was something extra to regale her with,
but as to talking, the mother was far too busy,
first preparing, then pouring out the tea, seeing
that no one was choked, dividing the buttered
cake, and spreading the jam, for anything to be
got out of her.

Besides, though Mrs. Bulfinch considered old
Kit as " that steady,*' by which she meant slow
and dull, she was a little bit in awe of him, so that
it was not till tea was over, and he had gone out
to smoke his pipe over the pig-sty, that she ven-
tured on making the inquiry she had come for,
about Chris's discovery.

The hero had betaken himself away from the
womenfolk to read what the little ones called " his
libery '* ; that is to say, his book from the Lending
Library, " Alfgar the Dane," which Mrs. Fletcher
had chosen for him, as illustrating the times of the
battle or skirmish of Lychford. Granny and Susan,
however, told the story in full detail, Mrs. Crediton
now and then putting in a word.

" What did he do with it ? *' Mrs. Bulfinch asked
at last.

" We took it up to Farmer — that's Mr. Hutch-

84 THE TREASURES IN THE MARSHES.

ins," said Susan, " that same evening, and he was
so pleased.**

"And what did he give you for it? **

" He gave us both ever so nice a supper of cold
pie, and Chris a shilling.**

"A shilling! Was that all?**

" The other gentleman, he gave Chris a shilling
for taking him about all over the mead.*'

" Two shillings ! Was that all he got out of it ? *'

" Nobody knows yet who it rightly belongs to,**
said Mrs. Crediton, pausing in her tidyings ; " they
say when they find out, Chris may have something
handsome.*'

" rd never trust to that. The gentlefolks always
keep what they can to themselves. To think of
such a find and naught but two shillings out of it !
I say it is a mortal shame.**

" Well, it can*t be helped,** said Mrs. Crediton ;
" the things weren*t ours, and we have no right to
them."

" Who should have a right to them but him as
found 'em?*'

" I only know that father was in a way till the
things were safe out of the house," said Mrs.
Crediton, as if that settled the matter.

WHAT DID HE GET BY IT? 8$

"There, then, Alice Crediton, Td never have
thought it ! Two shillings for Heaven knows how
much! rd never have thought you could have
been such a set of fools/*

Susan's eyes grew round with horror at such a
word to her mother. Jem gave a stamp, and was
bursting out with "You sha'n't — ** Lucy had a
text about such words on the tip of her tongue,
and Mrs. Crediton was thankful that neither of her
big boys was within hearing. She tried to laugh
it off, and said, " That's as one may think, Bess.
My master is one of the most particular as ever
was."

" Too particular," muttered the visitor.

" We shall see," returned Mrs. Crediton, cheer-
fully. ** Now then, we generally turn out for a
walk on a Sunday evening, and if you like, we
could go with you to the river, and see how you
are to get across."

This was accepted, and the whole family set
forth, except Lucy, who preferred staying to look
after Granny to going, as she said to the old lady,
with that nasty woman, who called mother names
and didn't know what the sixth or the eighth com-
mandment taught — matters in which Lucy's Cate-

86 THE TREASURES IN THE MARSHES,

chism knowledge was at its freshest. In fact, only
mother had much of her cousin's company. Father
walked on his own way, carrying baby ; Chris had
Amy on his shoulder ; Tom, Susan, and Jem poked
in the hedges, and shoved one another about in all
good humour, and the two mothers exchanged
confidences as far as Mrs. Bulfinch would go, about
the doings of their offspring.

At the river, the punt proved to be on the other
side, and nobody heard, or seemed to hear, the
united shouts of father, Chris, and Tom; so it
ended in Chris giving her his hand across the plank,
while Jem observed, " Serve her right if he'd give
her a start and send her in, coming and eating up
our herrings.''

Susan giggled, and Tom would have given a
horse laugh if father and mother had not been
there, and besides, she might have pulled Chris
into the pool after her.

She reached the other side safely, waved her
handkerchief, and started on her way home, still
muttering to herself, " Ever so much gold and sil-
ver, and only got two shillings! Two shillings!
That comes of marrying such a particular old lout
of a chap!"

WHAT DID HE GET BY IT? 87

It did not occur to her to compare— even if she
had known it — the amount of real pleasure and
happiness that the discovery had already afforded
the whole Crediton family with what she and her
Walter had got out of theirs.

Walter, however, when he came home that
night, could not stop laughing at the notion of the
two shillings. He had not done a stroke of work
since the find, and another visit to the Jew had
paid the rent, bought him a bristly white dog, and
provided the Bologna sausage that was produced
for supper.

CHAPTER X.

friar's lantern.

1*11 follow you, I'll lead you round about,

Through bog, through bush, through brake, through briar *
Sometimes a horse I'll be, sometimes a hound,

A hog, a headless boar, sometimes a fire.

Shakespeare, Midsummer Nighfs Dream,

ALTER began to think of the marsh by
the river as sown with gold and silver ;
the thought ran in his head all day,
more especially when he had lost while playing
marbles with some other idle lads, or when he saw
notices of sweepstakes in the sporting newspapers
which some of them took in.

Mr. Hunter, however, had workmen about his
fields who were instructed not to permit trespass-
ing, and his attention having been called to the
plovers* eggs, he had them all collected on his own
account till they were no longer saleable. So there

was not that excuse.

88

y"

FRIAR'S LANTERN. 89

Walter therefore resolved to make another at-
tempt, by night. There was a bull's-eye lantern
which his father had used, and which he trimmed
up as well as he could. He was not particularly
fond of being out in the dark by himself, but there
was a certain spot near an old willow-tree that he
had made up his mind was worth trying. There
was a young moon, which would give him light as
long as he wanted it. So off he set at about eight
o'clock, rather against his mother's wish, for she
had gone through so much when her husband and
sons were out at night that she did not like to see
it beginning again. However, this was not either
for pheasants or for the " White Stag," and Walter
protested that he should not be gone above an
hour, he only wanted to try that one hole.

Off he set whistling, but he thought it prudent
to stop as he passed the farmhouse, and then he
began to feel queer, or, as the Scotch would call
it, eerie ; for the hedges were high and quite shut
out the moonlight, and there were odd rustlings,
such as he would never have noticed by day, but
which he did not at all like in the darkness.

"Hoo! hoo! hoo! Twichit! twichit! twichit!"
It gave him a great start, though he perceived that

90 THE TREASURES IN THE MARSHES.

it was only from an owl, and shouted an imitation
of it, as the great bird sailed past him on noiseless
wings. Once his own noise heartened him up a
little, but he knew it was not safe to go on whoop-
ing and halloing, so he only hummed and whistled
to himself, almost under his breath, pausing every
now and then to listen to— something. Once it
was the very bad cough of a poor sheep ; another
time the quack, quack, quack of a father mallard
leading out his brood of downy ducklings to feed
by night ; and again the bark of a fox alarmed him
lest a dog should be after him.

At last he came to the ramshackle old gate,
which had been mended with thorn branches ; but
he pushed by the comer of the gate-post, and was
in the great marsh- field, with the river shimmering
in the low moonlight before him. He knew where
a tolerably dry path lay, leading towards the wil-
low, and indeed all had dried up a good deal since
his first hunt for the pewits' eggs. But how strange
everything did look ! Was that a man ? A fright-
ful figure of a man, or giant, with two stags* horns,
ever so many bulls* horns, and a lot of bristles on
his overgrown head ! Oh no ; it was only a pol-

FRIAR'S LANTERN, 9 1

lard willow, which he knew full well by daylight,
but it had upset his nerves all the same.

Still, he told himself that he could not come
back like a silly without having done anything,
and he plodded on right up to the foot of his
enemy, and was just going to dig — when, as he set
down his lantern, what should he see in the very
boggiest part but a pale light, just like a candle
in a fog. It was no doubt Jack-o'-lantern, come
to lead him into a quagmire.

By day Walter had not the least belief in Jack-
o'-lantern, and would have hooted down any one
who spoke of him ; but it was very different now !
Off he set, running as hard as he could go, as he
thought, in the way towards the gate, and away
from the dreadful light. The ground grew soft
under him, and presently he plumped headlong
into a cold black pool. He was up again directly,
and the water did not come above his knees ; but
there was no real foothold, and he floundered
about in the bitterly cold water for some little time
before he could pull himself out by the help of a
bunch of rushes and sweet gale on the bank. He
had dropped his lantern, and there was nothing to

92 THE TREASURES IN THE MARSHES,

show him where he was but the pale light which
the setting moon had left behind her, and those
dreadful horns of the pollard willow standing up
against it. He thought he had been on the other
side of the willow !

On he moved, getting stiff with cold — for it was
a frosty night, and he went cautiously. He heard
the church clock at South Lychford begin to
strike, and counted nine. It seemed to him that
it must be much later! He tried to go forward,
but it was as if he were going round and round
forever, and nothing would ever bring him further
from that homed giant, which grew more frightful
in the increasing darkness, or nearer to the hedge
—and presently he would get numbed with cold,
and not be able to go on any more.

The first hopeful sound he heard was the far-
away cough of the sheep. He followed it reso-
lutely straight on, or as straight as he could go,
by keeping the same star before him ; and at last
he came to the hedge, and knew the shapes of the
bushes.

By-and-bye he stumbled into his mother's kitch-
en, a miserable object, dripping, shivering, with
chattering teeth, hardly able to say Jack-o'-lan-

FRIAR'S LANTERN. 93

tern ; and long afterwards he remained firmly per-
suaded that he had been decoyed by Jack into the
swamp, whence he had barely escaped.

Anyway, he was in a wretched plight, and quite
worn out, for he had really wandered in his soaked
condition for nearly an hour and a half. His
mother got him to bed as fast as she could, and
gave him a warm drink. She was a good deal
alarmed, for such a chill had been the death of his
father; and the next morning Walter did wake
with a heavy cold and pains in his limbs, but he
had youth and sobriety on his side, and was only
laid up for a week. Still, he was some time in
getting strong, and coughed for full six weeks,
during which there was no question of his seeking
work ; and the better food and the beer that he
required led to more than one visit on his mother's
part to the old Jew.

And oh ! how cross he was to her all the time,
never observing how little she ever touched of the
meat and drink she provided for him ; living only
on bread . and vegetables, added to the scraps
which he turned against, and sometimes the soup
from the Rectory, which he chose to despise.

The Curate made him several visits, but Walter

94 THE TREASURES IN THE MARSHES.

chose to think that this was catching him at an
advantage for preaching to him ; moreover, he did
not want to be cross-examined as to the cause of
his illness, so he was sulky and silent in their in-
terview while he could not escape, and, as soon as
he was able, always got out of the way when he
saw either of the clergy approaching, lest he
should be asked whether he was coming to
church, or when he would go to work again.

Anyway, he did nothing till haymaking time,
and then the chief inducement was the getting into
the meadows again.

CHAPTER XL

THE ARCHAEOLOGISTS.

She saw her brother, Peterkin,

Roll something large and round,
Which he, beside the rivulet,

In playing there had found.
He came to ask what he had found.

That was so large, and smooth, and round.

SouTHEY, Battle of Blenheim,

AY time had come and gone, and the
Black Mead was bare of all but grass
stubble, and the banks of its gutters
were full of forget-me-not, purple loose-strife, and
meadow-sweet, before Chris heard more of his
discovery.

Then, indeed, he did hear; for Lord EUerslie
came down to his house in the neighbourhood,
and brought over a whole party of gentlemen and
ladies to study the subject, one of them being a
very wise and learned man, with a great white
beard, who knew all about ancient work from the

95

96 THE TREASURES IN THE MARSHES,

time of the Romans downwards. He seemed to
know the coins as well as if they had been Jubilee
florins of Queen Victoria, and explained that some
were King Egbert's and some King Ethelwolf's,
and one very crooked thing was of an emperor.
The two crosses were very old, indeed far more
ancient ; and he seemed to know these ornaments
and the " curly- wurlies '' upon the tall vessel that
had held them as if they had been a sort of al-
phabet. He had no doubt that they had once
belonged to St. Sebertstone Monastery, and were
part of the Danish plunder which had been lost in
the flight. So Mrs. Fletcher explained to Chris
and to the Hutchins children, who listened with
intense interest, while the gentlemen were eagerly
discussing the old map of the estate which Mr.
Ripley had brought, and comparing it with the
great ordnance parish map, lately made out.

This was in the drawing-room at the farmhouse,
and immediately afterwards the whole party set
out for the mead to trace the former course of the
river, and to see the spot where Chris had stum-
bled on this interesting discovery, more important,
as the learned seemed to think, as a testimony to
history than for its actual value.

THE ARCHAEOLOGISTS. 97

Chris and his spade were summoned to be in
attendance, and while Lord EUerslie, a slim, good-
natured, bronzed-looking man in a shabby,
weather-beaten old hat and coat, walked with the
farmer, Mrs. Fletcher with the antiquary, and the
others paired in different ways, one gentleman fell
back on Chris, in the rear, and asked him a great
many questions about the manner of his discovery,
and whether any traditions remained on the sub-
ject. Chris luckily knew what traditions meant,
and was able to tell what his grandmother had
said of bones having been found, and that he had
likewise heard that old James Masters was the
one who had dug them up, but he was very old
indeed, and was in Bridgeworth Union, gone
silly.

The old bed of the stream was duly traced out
by the map. It was quite dry at present, but the
place where Chris's discovery had been made was
clearly in the midst of it. He was set to dig all
round, while the party sat down, under such shade
as a willow-tree afforded, to a picnic lunch ; one
of the ladies and Chris's friend, however, bringing
him a whole packet of delicious sandwiches of
beef and cucumber, such as he had never tasted

98 THE TREASURES IN THE MARSHES,

before, also a bottle of ginger-beer, as he be-
longed to the Church Temperance Society.

He had plenty of time to finish and to go on
digging where he had been told, 'while he could
hear the sound of their merry talk ; but he did
not find anything, except one bit of bone, and just
at last something round and large, which pres-
ently, to his dismay at first, and then to his dis-
comfort, turned out to be a skull.

However, as he stood contemplating it, with a
strange, half-frightened, half-solemn feeling, some
one exclaimed, "The boy has found something!'*
and then the whole party came hurrying up, and
there was as great an acclamation of joy as if he
had found a golden crown.

Mr. Fletcher wished to take it at once and bury
it in the churchyard ; but one of the ladies said,
laughing (Chris wondered how she could), " What,
when you don't know whether he was a heathen
Dane or a Christian!'*

" I know he was a fellow-man, who will rise
one day,** said Mr. Fletcher, almost under his
breath, and scarcely any one heard him ; for some
one else was saying, " Dane or Saxon, that is just
what the Professor will tell us.*'

ir

THE ARCHMOLOGISTS, 99

"Are not Danes and Saxons sufficiently of the
same race to have similar skulls?" asked Lord
EUerslie.

The Professor said something far past Chris's un-
derstanding, and his daughter, the laughing lady,
still untamed, said, " Shall we look on your church
door, Mr. Fletcher?'*

" I am thankful to say that my church door is
Perpendicular," replied he.

This sounded even more mysterious; but the
good-natured gentleman, whose name it appeared
was Milbank, explained to Chris that there was
found in Essex the strong door of a very ancient
church, with a skin nailed out upon it, and it had
been made out by doctors and microscopes that it
was a human skin once belonging to a red-haired
man. Some miserable Dane must have been flayed
by his victors, alive or dead, and the skin nailed
up as a savage trophy. South Lychford Church
must have been built much too late for such a
horrid relic, as the architecture was of the four-
teenth or fifteenth century.

Mr. Fletcher was not allowed to fulfil his rever-
ent wish, for the Professor carried off the skull to
consult some of the people at the British Museum,

156383B

lOO THE TREASURES IN THE MARSHES.

who were more learned in human bones than
himself.

They all set ort to see the church, having first
presented Chris with the remains of their luncheon,
quite enough to regale the whole family at home
for at least two days. Also Lord EUerslie actually
put half-a-sovereign into his hand for his day's
work, and told him that he would consult with the
Vicar about him, and meantime he was to bring
Mr. Hutchins whatever he found.

Chris, standing dumfounded both with the pres-
ent gift and future promise, heard the shrill voice
of the lady say, "Aren't we going to pick the
brains of the old Granny ? "

It certainly sounded rather shocking, especially
coming on the skull discussion, and Chris, as he
went on digging, according to the farmer's orders,
could perceive that Mrs. Fletcher was recommend-
ing that the poor old body should not be frightened
or distressed by the whole party rushing in upon
her, or she would forget everything of the little
she knew.

In fact, Mrs. Fletcher had tried to stir up her
memory before, and knew that it was of no use.

I ■ ■! I

THE ARCHMOLOGISTS. lOI

She had never been a clever woman, and " Bless
you, ma'am, folk didn't make no work over such-
like when I was a girl *' was all she had to say.
She could not tell who had dug up the bones,
nor where, nor what had become of them — most
like burnt for lime — and as to when it happened,
"the wars" were all the same to her, whether
Crimean, French, or Danish, or even Israelite —
everything past was all one to her.

The Professor's daughter, whom she pronounced
a "flighty sort of inquisitive kind of lady," gave
her a shilling " to buy snuff," and this, as she did
not belong to a snuff-taking race, offended her
deeply, though she was too well bred not to curt-
sey thanks.

"She thought me no better than a tinker
woman," she declared, with great disgust, to her
daughter-in-law, who had been out shopping at
the time of the call, or they might have got on a
little better.

Mrs. Crediton had been rather startled. She
had met Mr. Fletcher with the " gentleman," Mr.
Milbank, and they had stopped and spoken to her.
" This is his mother," she heard the Vicar saying.

I02 THE TREASURES IN THE MARSHES,

Then he added, *' Good morning, Mrs. Crediton.
Mr. Milbank was very much pleased with your
boy Chris this morning.*'

" I am glad to hear it, sir. He is a very good
boy, I will say.*'

"And remarkably intelligent,** put in Mr. Mil-
bank.

*' He always was fond of his books, sir,'* and
a flush of pleasure came into her cheeks.

" Have you thought of getting a situation for
him?'* asked Mr. Milbank.

" No, sir. He has always worked with the
farmer, and he gets man's wages nearly."

" He seems to me too clever and intelligent for
farm work," said Mr. Milbank.

" It is what he and his father have always been
accustomed to, sir," answered Mrs. Crediton, feel-
ing it a sort of reflection on her husband and on
the farm work, which is by no means to be de-
spised.

'' Well, think about it. Perhaps you will hear
from me again."

Mrs. Crediton went home, but said nothing about
this suggestion, partly because she believed noth-
ing would come of it, and did not want to put

Ua-

THE ARCH^OLOGISTS. 103

things into Chris's head, and make her husband
uncomfortable, partly because the whole household
was excited over the young lady's questionings
and over the destination of Chris's half-sovereign.

The visitors had not by any means done with
their quest. They routed up the poor old gaffer
in the Union Workhouse, but they found it was
quite true that he was " gone silly," for he could
do nothing but shake his palsied head, and say
" Ay, ay," to whatever they asked.

Then they tried the other side of the river, and
began with Mrs. Bulfinch, asking if she had ever
heard of remains being found in the marshes ; but
Walter had a day or two before carried off the last
of the coins, and she thought it prudent to say,
"No, never that I heard tell of. There might
have been bones long ago, but I never heard of
nothing else."

Then they tried for themselves in the field, but
Farmer Hunter came out on them, not at all civilly,
and warned off trespassers.

" I wasn't going," as he said to his friends at
market, "to have a lot of idle gentry trapesing
about and hooking and bucking all over the place.
Why, my wife's uncle had the bad luck to have

I04 THE TREASURES IN THE MARSHES,

a dirty old bit of Roman pavement, as they called
it, on his farm, and there was no more peace for
gentlefolks coming and going and chattering over
it, till they ruined one crop of clover, and then
he dug some of it up and carted it away, and filled
up the rest so as no one could get at it."

The land was Mr. Hunter's own, and he could
do as he pleased.

So the curious betook themselves to the shops
in Awmouth and Bridgeworth to see whether any-
thing could be picked up by chance.

CHAPTER XII.

OLD AND NEW.

Let not ambition mock their useful toil,
Their homely joys, and destiny obscure.

Gray, Elegy,

^ ORE was heard of Mr. Milbank. Mr.
Fletcher came to Mrs. Crediton with an

offer from him to take Christopher into
his garden, to be under his head- gardener, to have
board and lodging and ten shillings a week to
begin with.

" I should not think of proposing it," said Mr.
Fletcher, "if Mr. Milbank were not one of my
oldest friends, a thoroughly excellent man, very
careful of his servants, indoor and out, and he as-
sures me that his head-gardener is a very good
man, who has been with him from a boy, and has
a kind, right-minded wife, who would be very
careful of your boy.*'

" Yes, sir, no doubt," said Mrs. Crediton, in a

105

106 THE TREASURES IN THE MARSHES,

tone as if she did not like it at all. " Where is it,
sir?"

" It is near Balminster, about two hours from
here by the railroad — fifty miles."

" Then I could not see to his washing and mend-
mg, sir?

'* No, I am afraid not ; but he could easily come
home and see you when he had a holiday. And
another thing, Mrs. Crediton, Lord EUerslie wishes
to give £<i to be laid out to the best advantage
for the boy, so that his outfit would be provided
for."

" It is very good of his lordship ; thank you,
sir," said Mrs. Crediton, still reluctantly. " I must
see what his father says."

" Of course you must. Tell him to come and
talk to me about it, and you may tell him, too,
that I would not think of advising you to accept
the offer if I did not know both Mr. Milbank and
his gardener, and think besides that a lad like
Chris would be more out of the way of temptation
in a place like Mr. Milbank's garden, as he has
such a turn for flowers especially, than keeping on
with farm work. Lads need something to occupy
their minds."

V * M

' t < •%

^ J *

OLD AND NEW. \0^

All this was a very new light to Mrs. Grediton;
and she had all a niother's reluctance to parting
with her son, as well as a certain undefined dislike
to the notibn that what was good enough for her
husband was not good enough for his son; but
she was a thinking woman, and wanted time to
turn over the scheme, so she only curtsied and said
she was much obliged, and Mr. Fletcher went
away.

When she spoke of it in the evening Chris's
eyes began to sparkle. He had been very much
taken with Mr. Milbank, and besides, the being in
a garden and learning all about plants and flowers
seenied to him delightful.

" Umph!" said his father. " Rum sort of busi-
ness- — fit for the nesh folk. Not a man's hard
day's work in it all.'*

''Oh yes, there is, father; plenty of digging and
lifting and hard work," said Chris. "And then
one would get to know all about the trees, and
the flowers, and all the rest. I'd like very well
to go."

" I sees," said old Kit. " My son, you want to
be a fine gentleman with all your crackjaw Latin
names and woman's fiddling work, and look down

I08 THE TREASURES IN THE MARSHES,

on a poor old plain labourer like your father!
That's the way with all you young lads!"

** No, no, daddy, Yd never look down on you,'*
said Chris. " Don't you never think that ; but I
should like to get on, to know more, and do what
one could put one's head into like."

Neither Chris nor his father quite knew how
much really intellectual intelligence was needed
for agriculture, and there was a good deal of truth
in Kit's next murmur: "That's the way of it!
All you sharp lads with a bit of schooling think
yourselves as wise as judges, and can't nohow be
content to stick to honest work, so you all go off
one way or the other, and leave naught at home
but the idle scamps."

"Indeed, I'd never be idle. I'd send home
ever so much of my wages," entreated Chris.

" Much of that, with all the new-fangled whim-
sies, you'd be up to. If you goes, you goes, and
there's an end of it."

Somehow, this narrow way of looking at the
matter had done much to set Mrs. Crediton on
the other side of the question, and besides, she
saw her son's eagerness, and she ventured to say.

OLD AND NEW. 109

" There's something in it, after all, father. These
young chaps do want to get out and see the world,
and if they are balked, ten to one they get into
mischief."

She let him observe that it was not so in his
time, and that it all came of schooling, but she put
him in mind of lads who had gone to the bad,
become navvies or run away to sea, and then
remarked that, if all their boys stayed at home,
there would not be work enough for them on the
farms; and indeed it was hard enough to find
regular employment for Tom to make this a telling
argument.

" Mother's for it, so the lad will have his way,"
was the most he could say, and in a sort of dogged
resigned tone not at all comfortable to his wife or
son.

" I wish you'd let me go with your good- will,
father," said Chris.

"Let you go! you'll go anyway," said the
elder man, " like all the rest of 'em."

** Not without your leave, father," said Chris,
with a great gulp at the assurance ; " but if you
knew how sick and tired I do get of nothing but

I lO THE TREASURES IN THE MARSHES.

the old plough lands, and meads, and the mud and
the stubble, and plodding after the steady old
horses that never go out of a foot's pace."

"There it is! That's schooling," grumbled his
father. " Bless you, why I began bird-starving in
Cuckoo Close when I was not as high as Jem, and
Mr. Hutchins' father was the farmer, and I've
gone on this fifty year, and I knows ever}' field in
the farm and what the crops have been and should
be, and what dressing it wants. There now, I
loves it all nigh as much as if 'twere mine own son,
and what should a man need to look further? "

Chris could not help giving a disconsolate sigh,
almost a moan, for fifty years in the same furrows
seemed an oppression on his soul; yet he still,
with the pertinacity of youth, persisted, "Won't
you come up to the Vicarage and see what Mr.
Fletcher has to say?"

" What should I do that for? You'll have your
way, whether or no."

" Your father's tired ; don't be at him any more
to-night," his mother managed to say. " He will
come round, only don't you vex him now."

For she knew that part of this growling came
from the suddenness of the proposal, and another

OLD AND NEW, 1 1 1

part from reluctance to get up and tidy himself
for a visit to the Vicarage ; and every word of the
conversation had convinced her that the offered
service was the safest opening for her boy, since it
was quite vain to hope that the unbroken round of
toil among the clods would satisfy his energy and
aspirations.

Indeed, those words which had cost Chris so
much, that he would not go without his father's
consent, had done much to change the father's
feeling, though no more was said that night.

The boy*s prayers were of the youthful, one-
sided kind, that his father might give way and he
might go and do his duty in this new sphere.
The mother's were those of the more chastened
Christian, that her son might do his duty, and
have " what was most expedient for him." The
father's? Who shall say what his earnest, but
half- formed, inarticulate prayers were? At any
rate, each said, " Thy will be done," though the
boy especially had hard work to get himself to say
it with his spirit.

His mother told him not to " worrit " his father,
for it would all come right, and he had learnt by
experience that sucli was generally the result;

112 THE TREASURES IN THE MARSHES.

moreover, his work the next day was in a different
direction from his father's, who was carrying a
load of hay to Awmouth with Tom in attendance.

Tom whistled, but they spoke little all day, and
the end of it was that when Kit came home after
foddering his horses, the first thing he said was,
" Well, the birds ! they do fly off from their nestes."
And, after a pause, " I'll not be the one to stand
in the lad's light."

He cleaned himself of his own accord, and went
up, without being persuaded, to the Vicarage, and
came back convinced that it was to be, and that
they were good folks, who would do their best to
keep Chris a good boy. So he might go out, since
nothing else would serve him, with his father's
blessing and good- will.

CHAPTER XIII.

THE NORTH LYCH TREASURE.

Thefts, like ivy on a ruin,

Make the rifts they seem to shade.

C. Gavan Duffy, A Lay Sermon,

IlNCE it had been discovered that the
river Awe was a burier of treasure the
curious were not inclined to leave the
subject alone. The Black Mead of South Lych-
ford was pretty well explored, and the marsh of
North Lychford was being drained by Mr. Hun-
ter, more for the purpose of keeping guard over it
than with the hope of discovery.

But still the collectors of curiosities prowled
about in the shops in the two towns, and by-and-
bye they fell on Isaacs, the Jew, who had not been
proof against such a demand, but kept in his tray
the last instalment of Walter Bulfinch's coins.
Here were the King Egberts like some of those

"3

1 14 THE TREASURES IN THE MARSHES.

found by young Crediton ! Of course there were
immediately close inquiries as to where they came
from, and the Jew ended a cross-examination by
stating that he got them from a woman and her
son who had found them in a bog at Lychford.
North Lychford, it appeared, on further pressure ;
but the names did not come out, for Isaacs always
took care not to know the names of his clients.

There was a questioning and a talk at South
Lychford, and then, in the way of gossip, it came
out that Wat Bulfinch had been, as people said,
" wonderful flush of tin '* all the spring and sum-
mer, though he had been ill and out of work, and
one of his marble-playing mates even deposed that
he had treated them all at the " White Stag," and
as he paid, had declared that he could get plenty
more where that came from. Nay, the plough-
boy, who had warned him off from the marsh-
field, had something to say about his haunting it,
and one woman recollected seeing him going that
way with a bull's-eye lantern in his hand just be-
fore he was ill.

All this worked up from tongue to tongue into
a pretty story, and at last it came to the foreman's
ears, and from him to the farmer in this shape.

THE NORTH LYCH TREASURE, 1 15

" That there Widow Bulfinch and her son — good-
for-nothings all of 'em were, like their father — had
been digging up a sight of gold and silver and
jools [jewels] in the marsh on the sly, and selling
them all to Isaacs the old Jew in Awmouth, and a
pretty good thing they had made of it."

So down came Farmer Hunter all rage and
anger upon Mrs. Bulfinch, swearing at her so that
it made her very flesh creep, and threatening her
with all his might for an ungrateful hussy robbing
him of his property.

Then, as she stood trembling, and crying, and
protesting that she had never robbed nobody, and
no one could say she ever had wronged no one of
a penny, he came down on her with the story.

Now, when one is accused of far more than the
truth, it is much easier to deny the whole mass
than if the one real grain of fact is brought for-
ward alone, and Mrs. Bulfinch could with great
vehemence declare that the whole came of her
neighbours' wicked malice, and falsehoods, and
jealousy. She denied that anything at all had
been found in the marsh by herself or her son, and
when asked how such an idle, lounging fellow as
he came to have a brand-new coat, a dog, and a

Il6 THE TREASURES IN THE MARSHES.

handful of money, she shed more tears, and de-
dared it was veiy hard — new coat indeed ! when
his sister's master had let her bring the poor boy
an ulster — not new— oh no, not at all. So one
truth was again made to cover a falsehood. And
as to the money — her Jem out in India might send
his brother home a present.

So voluble and so tearful was she that the farm-
er fairly got confused, though it was firmly fixed
in his own mind that she was telling falsehoods,
and he went off declaring that he should go to
a magistrate, and get a policeman to search the
house and examine her son.

He actually did go to Awmouth, but he went
first to his own solicitor to ask how he should take
the law of that woman and her son, who had been
robbing him of " such a hoard of gold as they had
made such a work of at South Lychford."

The lawyer heard all that Mr. Hunter had to
tell, but when it turned out that the farmer had
no notion what had been taken, nor whence, nor
when it had happened, and did not know how to
find out, the legal mind at once decided that it
was of no use to take any measures, since there
really .was no definite charge to bring against

THE NORTH LYCH TREASURE. 1 17

either Walter Bulfinch or his mother, and all that
could be done was to agree with the fanner that
it was an abominable shame that such a scamp
should get off freely, when it was morally chear
that he deserved hanging, said Mr. Hunter; but
the solicitor gave a slight whistle.

If Mrs. Bulfinch could only have heard that
conversation, she would have been much easier in
her mind ; but Walter, who had not been far off,
found her crying over folding her linen and declar-
ing that she was all of a tremble, the farmer had
given her such a turn, and he was going to bring
down the police on them, and have the house
searched.

Walter did not know much more about the law
than his mother. He knew that none of the hoard
in the marsh- field remained, but he also knew that
he had got his father's old gun set to rights, and
had a ferret in the wood-house, and he fully be-
lieved also that he could be called to account for
the treasure, for he had no notion how much the
Jew had betrayed, and he had no idea what could
be done to him. He sat brooding till dinner-
time.

Mrs. Bulfinch's work had to go on all the same.

1 1 8 THE TREASURES IN THE MARSHES.

and when dinner was over, she put her linen into
the flasket ; but Walter did not seem to hear her
when she asked him to help her carry it, and she
took it by both hands, as she had often done
before.

She took it to its home, was paid, bought some
sprats for Walter's tea, and came home with a
heavy, anxious heart, hoping at least to put him
in good humour with the little fish.

No Walter was within to open the door, but the
key was in the hole where it was always put when
they both went out. So she was not surprised,
but she fed the pig, put the kettle on, and made
the sprats ready to dress as soon as he came
home.

Time went on, and still he did not come. She
waited, and took her tea alone, thinking him out
with his mates, more especially as she found that
the ferret's box was empty. No doubt they had
gone on some rabbiting expedition on the sly, and
if the police did come, it was as well that the fer-
ret should be out of the way. For her part, she
was glad not to have to see to the beast, for she
hated the creature, and was afraid of it. One, in

THE NORTH LYCH TREASURE. 1 19

her husband's time, had bitten her badly, when
she was taking away Jem from teasing it.

She wearied over the darning of his socks, and
still he did not come. At last, she left out the
key and went to bed, as she had sometimes had
to do before, but still she did not hear him come
in. In the morning light, she tried to believe he
had come in while she slept, but when she looked
at his bed, it was empty. Ah! his best clothes
and thje ulster were gone !

Then she looked for the little bag in the corner
of the drawer where she kept her rent money.
That too was gone ! The drawer had a lock, but
it was one that could be opened by a contrivance
with a knife, and Walter knew it !

Poor woman ! it was all too plain — ^Walter had
fled. Her last son! He had fled and robbed
her!

She sat stunned for a little while, then the only
thing she could think of was to see whether his
chief mate, George Bumside, had come in, for
there was that one hope that the boys might have
stayed out together. She walked down with
trembling haste to the Bumsides' cottage.

I20 THE TREASURES IN THE MARSHES,

No ; George had come home in good time, and
was out at work in the Lower Croft. Mrs. Bul-
finch could not rest, got away from questions, and
tramped after George, who, by-the-bye, was the
informer about the lot of gold.

However, he had seen Wat, who had brought
down the ferret yesterday and asked him to buy
it, but he wouldn't, for mother would never abide
the creature, and advised its being taken to the
place at Awmouth were they had such things.

" He had his bundle," said George, " and set
off on Awmouth road. It's my belief," and he
looked up impertinently at her face, " that he has
gone and cut along of this row about the gold and
silver in Old Hunks's fields."

Poor Mrs. Bulfinch! The only relief to her
mind was a torrent of abuse to George Burnside
for a bad lad who had led her poor innocent boy
astray, and wanted to take away his character;
but he grinned and went on with his work.

She walked on to Awmouth in vain hopes of
finding him; but all she could gather from any
one was that a couple of lads had been hired in
haste to make up the crew of a little trading

THE NORTH LYCH TREASURE. 121

steamer from America just leaving the harbour,
and one might be her son.

She had to believe it, for she heard no more, till
after three weary months an envelope came with a
strange stamp, and a short letter, for Walter was
no scholar.

It said that he was well, liked the sea, and
meant to go on as he was, and Old Hunks could
not get at him, and he could see a bit of the
world. She must not take on, for some day he
would bring her home a pocketful of dollars, and
so he remained her dutiful son !

So the hidden treasures caused two separations ;
but how unlike !

CHAPTER XIV.

NEW HOMES.

The daughters of the year,
One after one, thro' that still garden passed,
Each garlanded with her peculiar flower.
Danced into light and died into the shade.

Tennyson, The Gardener^ s Daughter,

FTER all, the tears over the separation
at South Lychford were chiefly shed
by Granny and Chris himself. The
old woman sobbed under her apron that she should
never see him again, and Chris, when it came to
the parting, really howled over it, while his father
told him to be a man and not a porker with his
nose rung.

It would take too long to tell every event that
happened to Chris in Mr. Milbank's service. Park
Court was about three miles from the town of
Balminster. It was a grand place, with beautiful
gardens, and the head-gardener, Mr. Dewhurst,

122

NEJV HOMES. 123

and his wife, lived in a pretty cottage in the
grounds. They were elderly people whose mar-
ried daughter had emigrated to Canada, leaving
them a little grandchild to be their delight. Chris
was to have his meals with their little maid, and
to sleep in a small room connected with the hot-
houses.

Poor boy! this was his misery. He could
never recollect the time when he and Tom had
not lain in the same bed, and though it was only
in a queer little lean-to, where of late he had
hardly been able to stand upright, the rest of the
family were close at hand ; and here he was, not
merely in a room by himself, but in a house by
himself, with no beds near him but beds of aspara-
gus and cabbages, three of them between him and
Mr. Dewhurst's house.

Only those who have felt the like can guess
what the poor lad underwent every night between
nine and ten, or sometimes even eleven, for he
could hear the long beats of the great clock at
the stables. The room was as nice as could be,
with a comfortable iron bedstead, clean and tidy,
furniture that would have been a luxury at home,
a pretty paper, and even a picture of the Wise

124 ^-^^ TREASURES IN THE MARSHES.

Men offering gifts ; but he would have given all
to feel Tom, or hear his father snore, or even the
baby ciying and mother crooning over it. What
he feared, no one could tell; sometimes it was
imaginary thieves after the grapes, but more often
it was some kind of indefinite horror, and coupled
with this a deadly fit of longing and mother-sick-
ness, which made him think seriously of throwing
up his place, coming home to South Lychford fur-
rows, and living in comfort in the crowded house.
They would all think him very foolish, and he
could hear already the sort of coughing, mocking
snarl with which his father would receive the
tidings ; but what would that matter in compari-
son with his present wretchedness ? He began to
compose his letter, and that usually helped him to
a sound sleep.

In the morning things were different. The gar-
den and the houses were a delight for beauty and
variety, even though at first he was set to the
roughest work, sweeping and weeding, and the
leaves really seemed to come down on purpose to
make him have all his work to do over again.
Mr. Dewhurst, too, was at first very sharp to him.
In fact, that personage had observed that he never

NEW HOMES. 125

knew a lad come with a special character for out-
of-the-way honesty who was not the worst thief
of all. However, he relaxed when he had ob-
served that Christopher always gathered faith-
fully, never even helped himself to a fallen apple
or pear, and confessed with great trepidation and
distress when he pulled up a flower root by mis-
take, or broke a pane of glass.

The little g^randdaughter made friends with
" Kis,'* as she chose to call him, and so did cats
and dogs. Then Chris felt himself learning in
spite of the leaf-sweeping, and when he was found
to be clean-handed towards books, he was allowed
to read the gardener's magazines, and these were
a real pleasure. By day that weary longing for
home went off; it seemed too foolish to mention
when he wrote his letters, and after he had coaxed
the new puppy to come and sleep in his room, he
was happier, and felt he had company. Better
still was the hearing little Mabel one Sunday even-
ing saying her Psalm (the I2ist) to her grand-
mother, and coming to the verses, " Behold He
that keepeth Israel shall neither slumber nor sleep.
The Lord Himself is thy keeper, the Lord is thy
defence upon thy right hand.'*

126 THE TREASURES IN THE MARSHES,

" Yes/* said Mrs. Dewhurst, " I remember how
I used to say that at night when I had fancies and
frights, I liked it so when they used to sing it at
church.

Then thou, my soul, in safety rest,

Thy Guardian will not sleep,
His watchful care that Israel guards,

Shall Israel's monarch keep.

Sheltered beneath the Almighty's wings

Thou shalt securely rest,
Where neither sun nor moon shall thee

By day or night molest.

At home, abroad, in peace, in war,

Thy God shall thee defend.
Conduct thee through life's pilgrimage,

Safe to thy journey's end."

Chris made up his mind to learn that I2ist
Psalm, a verse every night, and say it over to him-
self; and it was wonderful what a difference it
made to him. By Christmas, though the nights
were at their longest and darkest, he had almost
forgotten that he had ever felt such alarms, and
when he went home for a couple of days, and laid
a quarter's rent on his mother's table, he was glad
that he had won the victory.

Mr. and Mrs. Milbank, when at home, were
kind, talked to him, and lent him books, and he

tf

NEW HOMES. 127

took advantage of the various schemes for im-
provement prevailing in the village ; but his real
turn was for gardening and for botany, as going
to the bottom of the matter. Mr. Dewhurst soon
found this out, aad enjoyed training him and trust-
ing him more and more, and the great pleasure he
felt in his work and pursuits made the temptations
around fall short of him.

So it went on for three happy years, and then
Mrs. Milbank died, away in London, and there
was a great break-up ; for her husband could not
bear to come and live at Park Court, and he let
the place to people who brought their own estab-
lishment.

Mr. and Mrs. Dewhurst, who had saved a good
deal of money, decided upon going out to their
daughter in Canada, taking her little girl, of course,
and perhaps settling there. Chris was by this time
a very fairly skilful gardener, who could well
undertake a small place; but Mr. Dewhurst
strongly advised him to get a situation in a good
nursery garden, where he could, while growing
somewhat older than his present score of years,
gain experience in the management of grapes and
of orchids, and qualify himself for a really superior

128 THE TREASURES IN THE MARSHES.

head-gardenership. For the present, he would be
rather less well off, as, though the payment would
be doubled, he would have to find his own board
and lodging ; but when Chris thought of the fut-
ure, he saw that it was well worth while to prepare
for the time when his father would have to give
up work. Besides, he so loved his profession that
he longed to go on to its higher stages.

There was a beautiful nurseiy garden at Bal-
minster, with huge beds of exquisite roses, masses
of calceolarias, trees of chrysanthemums, dazzling
sheets of lobelias, and perfect groves of rhododen-
drons of all shades, a sort of paradise to Chris
whenever he was sent there, so that he scarcely
knew how to come away, and the head of it was
well known to Mr. Dewhurst, and quite willing to
accept his recommendation.

So, in due time, Chris sorrowfully said good-bye
to the friends he had won at Park Court, and was
soon established in comfortable lodgings with a re-
spectable widow at Balminster, who undertook the
care of his linen, and satisfied Mrs. Dewhurst, who
had cared enough for him to come and arrange for
him.

There was a beautiful church, and Chris, whose

NEW HOMES. 129

voice had come back, hoped to be in the choir.
His master sent out men to attend to the gardens
in the town, and the Rectory was under his charge.
He desired " Crediton,*' as Chris was now called,
to go and see to the little conservatory there, and
while Chris was waiting for the lady's orders, a
maid, very pretty, dark- eyed, and neat-looking,
came down with a message, and she had no sooner
spoken than the familiar Lychford voice rang on
the young man's ears, and almost at the same
moment one exclaimed, "Tis Kate Bulfinch!"
and the other, " Tis Chris Crediton!*'

Just then the master came in, and they both
knew their manners too well to take any more
notice of each other, nor did they meet again all
the rest of that forenoon.

CHAPTER XV.

A FINCH TRANSFORMED.

Black were her e3res, as the berry that grows on the thorn by the
wa3rside. — Longfellow, Evangeline,

[ES, it was Kate Bulfinch ! On the Sun-
day, the very next day, as Chris came
out of church, he saw her in the gaslight,
with another young woman, evidently a fellow-
servant As he turned towards her, she sprang
forward, saying eagerly, " I do so want to speak
to you. Jane, this is my cousin, Mr. Crediton;
Chris, she is my friend. Miss Jane Morley. O
Chris ! I do want to know whether you have heard
anything of my poor mother? '*

"Your mother! no," said Chris, surprised.
" Fve written— oh, ever so many times! — to her
and to Walter, and never had an answer since the
first ; and the last to Wat came back with ' Not

known here * on it.**

130

L^

A FINCB TRANSFORMED, 131

" I did hear/* said Chris, considering, " some-
thing about Wat having gone to sea."

"To sea! Poor mother! But when did you
hear? When were you last at home?'*

" About six weeks ago, just before I came here.
I went home to my poor old Granny's funeral,'*
said Chris, who had a piece of crape on his arm,
" but I think it was before that."

" I haven't been home for these three years,"
said Kate. " I wrote when I left my last situation
and offered to come and see them, but I did not
get an answer, and didn't know what to think.
Walter gone to sea ! Well, mother is no scholar,
but I thought she might have made shift to write.
Poor mother!" and she was crying.

" I'll write again, and ask if mother knows
aught," said Chris, "and let you know when I
come to do the conservatory again."

" Oh ! thank you, dear Chris ! I do want to
hear about Alice too,- and all of them — only how
to do it ? We don't have Sundays out. It's not
respectable, unless we have our families to go to."
Tell your missu«, all square," said Chris.
She is a kind lady — ^but " — as they had reached
the back door, and Jane had gone on to ring the

it

((

132 THE TREASURES IN THE MARSHES.

bell — " if you ask for me, Chris, call me Miss Finch.
I leave out the Bui-, because the others did tease
me so.'*

" Mayhap that is why you don't get your letters,"
he said.

" Oh no, can't be. I told her in my letter."

"Truth's best," said Chris, and as the door
opened, they shook hands, and he sped away, fear-
ing that he heard Kate beginning to sob.

They both felt as two Englishmen might do
meeting in the deserts of Africa ; those home tones
that had come through their mothers were so re-
freshing; and as far as Chris could see, Kate
looked exceedingly nice, quiet, and respectable,
as became a Rectory servant.

In very truth, Kate was much altered for the
better. She had always been an eager, easily im-
pressed girl, and the real good she had taken in
during her last years at school had only been
stifled for a time by the giddiness of her girlhood
in situations which did nothing to keep up those
higher thoughts which unfortunately had never
been fostered at home.

However, at last she had fallen upon really good
people, and her better impressions were renewed

A FINCH TRANSFORMED. 1 33

with the vehemence of her nature. She had fallen
into excellent hands for her preparation for Con-
firmation. She had felt and laid to heart every
word that was said, had cried bitterly over her
faults, and made excellent resolutions, to which
she had kept with all her might. She did fail
sometimes, often because she had not been bred
up to a high standard, nor to notice lesser failures ;
but she always grieved over them, and the delight
she took in hymns, in stirring sermons, and in any
kind of exciting or touching service, was extreme.
But all the time she was a thoroughly honest, good,
upright girl, trying to do her best, and, as she had
her mother's industry and aptitude for work, she
was a valuable servant. That alteration of her
name had been made when she left Bridgeworth,
and that there was any falsehood in it had never
occurred to one who had used many worse deceits,
and thought nothing of them, though she had re-
pented of as many as she could recollect. She had
been transferred from that first situation to Lady
Clara Melton's at the Rectory, where she was very
happy, except when she thought of her home and
her mother, and the unanswered letters.

The sight of Chris Crediton, and especially his

134 ^-^^ TREASURES IN THE MARSHES.

voice, had roused her feelings so much that she
worked herself up into a violent fit of crying, and
was quite red- eyed when she went into prayers
that night, and her shoulders shook a little.

Lady Clara, knowing that she was a person
easily affected, asked the other maid Jane whether
she were in trouble.

" It is thinking about her mother, my lady," was
the answer. " That young man as was doing the
plants is her cousin, and she met him — quite pro-
miscuous, my lady — after church, and that quite
upset her."

'' Did he tell her bad news? "

" No, I think not, my lady ; it was rather that
there was no news at all."

On this. Lady Clara spoke to Kate herself, hop-
ing she had not heard anything to grieve her.
There was another gush of tears. " No, my lady,
but I have writ again and again and can't get no
answer, and my last letter came back to me ; and
young Crediton, that's my mother's first cousin's
son, he said he would write to his mother and find
out, and he did seem so like home — so natural —
my lady," and she began to weep still more.

" No doubt — no doubt you must have felt it,"

A FINCH TRANSFORMED. 135

said Lady Clara. " I hope he is a steady young

man."

(I

Oh yes, my lady, the Creditons are a real
good respectable family as ever lived, and he works
for Mr. Todd's nursery ; and if I might speak to
him when he comes, and hear what he learns, my
lady, /or he wouldn't do anything unbeknown to
you ? "

Lady Clara, of course, gave permission, and her
husband further asked Mr. Todd about his new
workman, and heard of his having come with an
excellent character from the head-gardener at Park
Court Moreover, the new face had been observed
in the congregation. So Chris became known to
the clergy, and, as his voice had returned, was put
into training for the choir when there should be a
vacancy, and meantime was in request for lending
aid in singing at the mission- room services. Of
course Kate's tears were quite real and genuine,
but she was pleased with her own sensitiveness
for having shed them, and felt as if she had been
like Nehemiah.

Lucy was the chief scribe at home since Susan
had gone out; for though Mrs. Crediton was a
better scholar than her cousin, she felt writing a

136 THE TREASURES IN THE MARSHES,

trouble, and preferred sending messages by the
readier pen. There was not much to tell Kate.
Mrs. Crediton had not seen her cousin for a long
time, but she would have heard if anything had
happened to her. It was true that Walter Bulfinch
had gone to sea — ^Tom had heard as much from
one of his mates. Farmer Hunter had died sud-
denly at market, and the place had been sold to a
company which meant to make tiles and crocks,
so perhaps Mrs. Bulfinch might have had to move.
As soon as the days were longer, mother would
try to get over and see after her.

This cheered Kate a good deal, especially as she
heard it by day, in the midst of her work, when
she was enjoying five minutes among the begonias
and chrysanthemums with Chris. As to going to
see her mother, it was better to wait to hear where
she was before asking for permission, and it cer-
tainly was unsafe to send any money, since thq
last order had never been acknowledged.

Every time Chris came to the Rectory garden
Kate contrived to have a few minutes with him,
though not more, for if she showed herself in the
least inclined to linger, he went on with his work.
She generally also managed to walk home from

A FINCH TRANSFORMED. 1 37

church with him, and say how beautiful the music
was, and how lovely the sermon.

Kate was a very pretty girl, with the gipsy
complexion of her father, refined and softened
down, and every one of the youths who came to
the Rectory admired her, and several showed that
they would most gladly have been on " walking *'
terms with her. Indeed, she had been much in-
clined to favour the best tenor, or else the butcher's
young man; but after Chris Crediton appeared,
she had eyes for no one else, and her whole
thought on going out of church in twilight mom,
bright noon, or gaslit evening was whether she
would fall in his way without unseemly lingering,
appearing to pursue him, or getting laughed at by
her fellow-servants; and when he once brought
her a bit of heliotrope and geranium, she pressed
it in her Bible, and thought it her greatest treasure.

And Chris! He knew she was pleasant, and
she put him in mind of home; he liked to ex-
change greetings with her, and it was rather flat-
tering to be laughed at by his mates on the liking
of such a pretty girl ; but it was all much in the
same way as he played with little Mabel Dewhurst
His time was not come, and, to tell the truth, he

138 THE TREASURES IN THE MARSHES.

was far more in love with the new double begonia,
which was to be called by the horrid name of
Toddiana, than with any other creature in exist-
ence, except his mother and sisters. Lucy had
been kept at home because when out of school she
was very useful in her grandmother's decline. She
was a monitor, and as she was one of the clever
ones of the famliy, her mistress and Mr. Fletcher
wished to make her a pupil teacher, if the expense
could be met by the family, and Chris had ventured
on undertaking to help her. It was almost as in-
teresting and exciting to wonder whether she
would pass her examination as whether Begonia
Toddiana would win the prize.

CHAPTER XVI.

THE CRY OF THE CHILDREN.

And well may the children weep before you,

They are weary ere they run ;
They have never seen the sunshine, nor the glory

Which is brighter than the sun.
They know the grief of man without its wisdom ;

They sink in man's despair without its calm.

E. B. Browning.

IhERE came to the Rectory a good
many guests. One was Miss de Vaux,
a cousin of Lady Clara, a not very
youthful young lady, who was almost as excitable
and as eager as Kate herself, who was much de-
voted to Mr. Melton's preaching, and made long
visits. She went away to the house of Lady
Clara's brother, about fifteen miles off, and about
three weeks later came a clergyman who was col-
lecting for the Society for the Protection of Waifs
and Strays.

Kate was spared to go to the evening meeting,

139

I40 THE TREASURES IN THE MARSHES,

which he held in the largest schoolroom. He
gave a most thrilling and piteous description of the
poor unhappy deserted children whom the good
agents of the Society picked up more than half-
starved, sleeping in gas-pipes, in gutters, or under
newspapers; and, what was still worse, of poor
little beings whose fathers inflicted fiendish tortures
on them, twisting their arms, choking them, and
putting them to such agony that they screamed at
the very sight of a man ; or of others whose tipsy
mothers starved them, pawned their clothes, beat
them, and left them to perish with hunger and cold.
Kate was in floods of tears of pity and indigna-
tion, and when she heard how the poor little creat-
ures could be taken to kind homes, fostered,
mothered, and taught holiness and love, and how
much crippled in good deeds the Society was for
want of funds, her heart burnt within her, and she
longed to do something, some great deed on their
behalf, which indeed would be an offering to the
Father of the fatherless. She had had to buy
winter clothes and boots, and there was not as
mufh left of her wages as could be wished,* but
suddenly she recollected her gold bracelet, as she
called it.

THE CRY OF THE CHILDREN. 141

She had never worn it since that one time at the
temperance concert at Bridgeworth, which seemed
so long ago. She had never been among company
who would have thought it suitable or ornamental
to her, and she had grown much more circumspect
as to her appearance. She thought of it as a
childish thing, like those blue glass beads which
had been a bon^ of contention with her schoolmis-
tress ten years ago ; but she believed it must be
valuable, and there was something delightful to
her imagination in casting her jewel bodily and
secretly into the offertory, as she had read of hero-
ines doing in books.

The collar was in a scent-bag, shut up in a dried
fruit case, in a comer of her box, below all her
summer dresses. She knelt down when the house
was quiet, brought it out, and looked it over. It
seemed to her more precious and curious than when
she had first seen it, so perfectly made, one scale
fitting over the other, and so light, and bending
every way ; but she only looked with the thought
of its worth for the desolate children, wondering
how many it would provide for. She had heard
the story of General Gordon giving his gold Chi-
nese medal with the inscription effaced in the time

142 THE TREASURES IN THE MARSHES.

of the Lancashire distress, and this further encour-
aged her ; but — and perhaps this was the one flaw
in what was on the whole a hearty and noble free-
will offering of charity — she could not help enjoying
the thought that all the rich people in the church
would not know that the poor young maidservant
was giving more than all of them.

The meeting was on Friday. She went about
in high spirits all the next day, and on Sunday the
offerings throughout the day were to be for the
Waifs and Strays. She was so eager that she was
sorry that it was not her turn to go to the Early
Celebration ; but at Morning Service, the sermon
on " Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the
least of these My brethren, ye have done it unto
Me," made her heart thrill and leap, as she clasped
tighter the little bag in which she still kept her
treasure to prevent any jingling.

By-and-bye the churchwarden came round ; she
stretched out her hand, while she seemed scarcely
able to breathe, and in went the gift on the top
apparently of a good many pence and sixpences.
Then she dropped on her knees, hid her face in
her hands, and tried to pray that her gift might be
blest and accepted.

THE CRY OF THE CHILDREN. 1 43

Still, when she went back into the common light
of day, she did hope that she should have the
pleasure of hearing a little wondering over it, and
speculation as to who could have presented it ; but
no such thing happened.

In fact, Mr. Melton made it a rule to have no
gossip about the amount of offertory alms, or the
kind in which they were given, or indeed upon any
sacred subject, so that Kate, using all her ears
when waiting at table, had hardly ever been able
to pick up any church news.

Much she wondered over the fate of her collar,
but she heard nothing that day, and on the next
the clergyman went to stay at Lord de Vaux's to
give a lecture at his village.

CHAPTER XVII.

THE TORQUE.

Shall the heirs of sinful blood
Find joy unmixed in charity?

J. Keble, Christian Year,

\VJO days later, there was an arrival of
Miss de Vaux at the Rectory, and pres-
ently Kate, as she answered the bell,
heard the words, "Yes, Clara, I know it is my
torque, and I lost it while I was staying here," in
Miss de Vaux's vehement voice.

" Desire Joe to take this note up to Mr. Todd,"
said Mr. Melton; "he may wait for an answer."

Mr. Todd was one of the churchwardens, and
Kate retired with the note. She had not the least
notion what a torque meant. She would not have
been quite so happy if she had heard all.

" I am sure I lost it here ! That maid ! I never

liked her ; she is a great deal too pretty, and has

144

THE TORQUE. 145

a kind of gipsy look, and I caught her one day at
my dressing-table fingering my things."

*' I have always found her perfectly honest/* said
Lady Clara.

" People yield to sudden temptations, and then
get alarmed," said the cousin.

" It is very improbable," said the clergyman.

" The improbable is what always happens," re-
turned Miss de Vaux. " It can't be anything else !
I am ready to swear to it. Now listen, Charles — "
He had listened once before, but Miss de Vaux
was never content without saying everything three
or four times over. *' My brother Herbert brought
it to me from Norway, an heirloom — naughty peo-
ple to sell it ! He bought it in a farmhouse. It
is one of the torques that the Northmen sea-kings
used to wear round their necks, and he gave it to
me, so I can't be mistaken in it. It is an exceed-
ingly curious thing, for it is not known whether
they made them themselves, or if they were spoil
from the Celtic chiefs. I remember packing it up
when I came here ; but it is rather an awkward
thing — it won't open, and won't go over one's head.
The Vikings could never have taken it off, and it
is too long for a bracelet ; but I meant to show it

146 THE TREASURES IN THE MARSHES.

to Fanny's chfldren, only I forgot it altogether till
that Waif and Stray clergyman produced it in
Fanny's drawing-room, and said he wanted a pur-
chaser for it, as it had been put in the collection
at your church. Then of course I exclaimed, ' It
is my torque.' "

"Well, Florence, I have sent to the church-
warden to see whether it can be traced."

The churchwarden came in person, instead of
answering the note. He recognized the little bag
which Mr. Melton had kept, and declared that to
the best of his belief it had been given by Lady
Clara's parlour-maid.

"I told you so! I knew I was right," cried
Miss de Vaux. " The horrid girl, to dispose of it
in that way ! No doubt she got frightened and
dreaded a scene. You had better send for a
policeman, Charles."

" I shall see her first alone," said Mr. Melton.

So he left the lady still talking with all her might
to Lady Clara, and rang his study bell for Kate.

He first asked her whether it were she who had
given a golden collar at the offertory.

"Yes, sir," she said, fully expecting to hear

THE TORQUE. 147

something pleasant about it, and showing it in her
countenance. " It was all I could do for those
poor little dears/'

'* Will you tell me how you came by it ? "

" My brother gave it to me, sir/'

" Your brother? Are you sure? "

Kate paused a little, recollecting the commands
not to mention Walter's discovery ; but there was
a certain sternness in her master's eye and voice
which made her perceive that she had better tell
the whole, so she replied, '* He found it, sir."

"Found it? And where?" said Mr. Melton,
leaping mentally to the conclusion that Florence
de Vaux had dropped it, and some unsuspected
brother had picked it up, somewhere about the
town.

He was much surprised when Kate said, " He
dug it out, sir, in a marsh by the river at home, at
Lychford."

" How long ago?"

" More than three years ago, sir — four years
ago come Lady Day."

"And you have never shown it to any one
here ? "

148 THE TREASURES IN THE MARSHES,

" No, sir. I never wore it here. I knew it was
not becoming to my station, and kept it till I longed
to do something for the poor little children."

" Where is your brother now ? "

" He is at sea, sir."

" And can any of your family at home give an
account of this?"

'* Sir " — and now came Kate's tears — " I have
not heard from my mother for ever so long, and
my letter got returned."

"That's bad," muttered Mr. Melton. "Who
was your clergyman?"

"The Reverend Otway, sir, North Lychford;
but " — with some hesitation — " he would know of
us by the name of Bulfinch."

" I thought your name was Finch? "

Kate was getting frightened, and her voice grew
tearful. " Yes, they teased me so about Bulfinch,
that I gave my name as only Finch. I hope it
was not wrong, sir — no harm. I never thought no
harm."

" I cannot quite call it harm," said Mr. Melton,
" but it is very unfortunate that you cannot give a
clearer account of yourself and your people." He
had meant at first to go back and tell Miss de

THE TORQUE, 149

Vaux that he was sure of Kate, and it must be a
mistake ; but these latter answers sounded so like
prevarication that he was a good deal staggered,
and after a few moments said, " I am sorry to tell
you that Miss de Vaux believes that this is a brace-
let of hers, which she missed when she left us.''

" O sir! It is not true! Indeed it is not! I
never took nothing." Kate was beginning to sob
and asseverate between her sobs.

" Come, Kate, command yourself. I can scarcely
believe that you would be capable of such an
action, still less of disposing of the bracelet in such
a manner ; but if you really found it lying about
anywhere in the garden or street '' ("I didn't,'*
sobbed Kate), '* do not be afraid to tell the whole
truth."

" I didn't, I didn't, sir. I have told you every
word of truth. My brother Walter — he did find
it— -out in the marsh — and bits of gold and silver
— and old money-^old money — and he gave this
to me."

" What became of the rest of the things you say
he found?"

'* I believe they sold them bit by bit to an old
Jew at Awmouth; but I was only at home one

150 THE TREASURES IN THE MARSHES,

day, and I don't know ; but indeed, sir, I am tell-
ing you every word of truth. I never saw or
touched anything of Miss de Vaux's, except to
tidy her toilet-table. There never was nothing
like it there. How can she?*'

Kate was almost hysterical by this time, and
such violent crying and protestation never impress
favourably. Mr. Melton spoke very gravely, " It
is a very unfortunate matter. I am afraid that,
unless you can prove that you have been in pos-
session of the bracelet these three years as you say,
then there can be only one conclusion. You had
better go now and think over whether you can
bring any satisfactory reference or proof."

When Mr. Melton brought back the account of
his interview. Miss de Vaux was all the more in-
dignant, and was ready to fly at him for being
taken in by such a ridiculous story.

Lady Clara tried to say something for Kate, but
was answered, " Oh yes ! she is that kind of plau-
sible girl who takes you all in. I shall send for
the policeman, and he will soon get it out of her."
" Not just yet, Florence," said the Rector. " I
have promised her to give her time to try if she
can prove her story."

THE TORQUE. 151

" She Will be ofT," exclaimed Miss de Vaux,
*' off with that young man who is always after her.
Why, I have seen him gossiping ever so long with
her in the conservatory. Depend upon it, he is
what she is pleased to call her brother.'*

" Oh! I know all about him," said Lady Clara;
"he is her cousin."

"There!" interrupted Florence.

*' He has been writing to try to find her mother's
address," continued Lady Clara.

" Depend upon it, he is at the bottom of it,"
persisted the visitor ; " I know what Clara's swans
are.

The husband and wife held their peace, well
knowing what a really good and kind woman
Florence de Vaux was, but that she was subject
to run almost wild on any matter that she took up,
and as long as the mood lasted to talk in an exag-
gerated tone, as well as to think all opposition
absurd. They themselves were much perplexed,
and Lady Clara believed against appearances that
the girl she really loved must be innocent, and Mr.
Melton would have thought so also, if he had not
distrusted excitability, and moreover thought the
account— or rather no account— of the family very

152 THE TREASURES IN THE MARSHES.

unsatisfactory. Florence had given the waifs what
Lord de Vaux estimated to be the value of the
torque, and had brought it with her, but for the
present it was locked up in Mr. Melton's drawer.

He meant, after luncheon, which was brought
in by Jane — for poor Kate was in no condition tc
appear — to go and see what he could learn from
young Crediton at the nursery ground.

CHAPTER XVIII.

TO THE RESCUE.

Thou stick'st a dagger in me.
I shall never see my gold again.

Shakespeare, Merchant of Venice.

R. MELTON found Chris very busy
over a houseful of geranium cuttings,
and presently explained what he had
come for, asking first about the relationship to the
girl. All was above-board with Chris.

" Our mothers are cousins, and were very fond

of each other when they were girls," explained he.

"And is her name Finch?"

"Bulfinch, sir; but her fellow- servants made

game of the name, I believe, so she dropped the

beginning."

"And, forgive me for asking you, is the family
respectable ? "

" No one ever said any harm of her mother, sir.
She is an industrious, hard-working widow."

153

154 '^HE TREASURES IN THE MARSHES.

"And the father?"

" He has been dead for a good many years," said
Chris, rather avoiding the subject.

"And there is a brother at sea? "

" Yes, sir, so I heard from my sister ; but I do
not know whether it was mentioned to you, sir,
Mrs. Bulfinch never had much education, and the
young woman has been in great trouble at not
hearing from home."

"Ah ! " with a sound of satisfaction at this veri-
fication. " She is in trouble now," and he pro-
ceeded to relate the history of the gold collar,
Miss de Vaux*s suspicions, and Kate's account of
the matter, which to all the family sounded so im-
probable.

" I couldn't doubt it was true, sir," said Chris.
" I found a whole lot of gold and silver things
myself in the old bed of the river, the Awe, about
four years ago, after the wet season."

"You did!"

" Yes, sir. There was a battle there at Lychford
in the time of King Ethelbert, when the Saxons
came up with the Danes, who had been pillaging
the Abbey at Sebertstone," said Chris, almost as

TO THE RESCUE, 1 55

if he had seen it, " and there were ever so many
remains left in the marshes round the river. TU
show you how it was, sir."

Wherewith Chris took out his gardener's pencil
and found a bit of brown paper, on which he drew,
as he had done at the night school, only more
roughly, a map of the Awe, with the two Lych-
fords, one on each side, marking the very spot of
his own discovery, and explaining that another
such was quite possible on the northern side.

"And what became of the things you found?"

" I took them up to the farmer. My father is
a very particular man, and could not be happy a
moment till I had carried them all up to my master,
and he said they belonged to the Lord of the
Manor, Lord EUerslie, and a number of gentlemen
and ladies came down to see about them. I could
show you the account in the Awmouth newspaper,
sir," he went on, at a sign of interest from Mr.
Melton. "There were coins, King Egbert and
King Ethelwolf, and crosses, all in a thing like a
tankard, copper gilt, which I believe Lord EUerslie
gave for a flagon to Sebertstone Church."

" This is very curious, Crediton. I should like

156 THE TREASURES IN THE MARSHES,

to see the account in the paper. But did you
never hear of your cousin's discovering anything
of the same kind?'*

** No, sir. You see they lived on the farther
side of the river, and we never saw much of them.
Besides," Chris felt bound to say, " Mrs. Bulfinch
is an ignorant woman, and the master had the
name of a hard man, and the lads were, I'm afraid,
rather loose fish, so I should not wonder if they
had kept it close; but I don't believe that the
young woman would ever do anything she knew
to be dishonest. I am sure," looking up into Mr.
Melton's face with his clear, straightforward eyes,
" she is as honest and good, religious a girl as ever
lived, sir."

" So I have always thought her," said Mr. Mel-
ton, "and I am much encouraged by what you
say. I will not detain you now, but in the even-
ing perhaps you will bring up this newspaper cut-
ting, and see Kate, and try if she can bring any
proofs that will satisfy Miss de Vaux."

Chris had no difficulty in hunting up the column
of the "Awmouth Chronicle," which indeed he
preserved as a sort of medal, a title of honour, and
he carried it up to the Rectory in the evening.

TO THE RESCUE. 157

He found the servants there all on Kate's side.
She was always good-tempered, obliging, and
merry with them; they believed her religion a
real thing, and were very angry with Miss de
Vaux for suspecting her, and bringing an accusa-
tion " fit to take away a poor girl's character."
Indeed, that lady, having grown up to more
attendance than she was able in her present cir-
cumstances to afford, gave a good deal of trouble,
and required much attention where she was visit-
ing. " So unlike my lady," said Jane, so that
they were not at all disposed to feel with her.
They hoped that she would be convinced before
Friday, for she had gone away declaring that
otherwise she should have the girl summoned to
appear the next day at the Petty Sessions — and
such a thing, even if nothing were proved, might
always be remembered against her.

All this Chris heard before Kate had finished
waiting at dinner, whither she had ventured since
Miss de Vaux had departed. Lady Clara's kind-
ness had done her good, and both master and mis-
tress showed that they believed in her ; but she
was very tearful and shaky, and when Chris fol-
lowed her into her little pantry, he was really

158 THE TREASURES IN THE MARSHES,

afraid for the moment that she was going to fall
into his aims, and he backed to the door.

"O Chris! are you come to help me? Dear
Chris ! how good of you ! " and she fell into one
of her passions of sobbing, exclaiming at intervals
that she could not gfuess how any one could sup-
pose her to be so wicked as to steal a thing, and
give it in that way " like a hyp — ^hyp— hypocrite."

" Come, come, Katie, don't take on that way !
It doesn't do a bit of good, and how is a chap to
know what is to be done if you go on that way ?
Come now, was it Wat who found it? "

"There's nobody to speak for me. No one
knows where Wat is, nor poor mother neither.
There's no one to speak for me — I'm as good as
lost. Nasty spiteful thing! to go and take away
my character, as is all a poor servant has in the
world, and when I thought I would give some-
thing worth — " on came the sobs again, and Chris
spoke sharply, " I can't stand all night to see you
take on. Get yourself together and speak a little
reasonable if you can. Of course, Wat found this
thing?"

The scolding did help Kate to a little more self-
control, and she managed to tell him as much as

J

TO THE RESCUE, 159

she knew of the story of the discovery, and how
she had begged the collar from Walter, not know-
ing its value, and without any idea that it was not
the property of the finder, since, to her mind, it be-
longed to nobody.

"And did you never show it to any one?"
asked Chris.

"Not here, I didn*t. Td got to know it was
not respectable to put on gold and costly array —
not for a girl in service — and I did think of better
things, Chris, indeed I did, and I never recollected
it till I wanted to help those poor children ; and to
think that it should have brought all this on me.*'

"•Perhaps it is to do you good in the end; as
father always says, ' He above knows best.* Who
knows ? '* said Chris. " But, tell me, did you
never wear it at all? *'

"Yes, once at the temperance concert at
Bridgeworth, when I recited ' Exit Tommy.* **

"And did no one notice it?**

" Yes, your Alice did, and so did Miss Thomp-
son, our Bible-class lady ; she asked how I got it,
and I said my brother gave it me, which was real
true, Chris. Only she did ask if it was Jem in
India. And I didn't say no, because mother bade

l6o THE TREASURES IN THE MARSHES.

me let on nothing to nobody. I wouldn't now,
Chris ; but I was a bad giri then, though I never
stole nothing, but Tve been a better girl since I've
been confirmed — indeed I have.*'

*' Then our Alice could speak for you," inter-
rupted Chris, in a much more hopeful voice, *' and
so could this lady, Miss Thompson. I remember
Alice used to talk about her. And your mother
could tell all about finding the things."

"Ah, but poor mother! Nobody knows where
to find her."

" rU tell you what, Kate. Mr. Todd will give
me leave when he hears how it is, and Til run
down to Bridgeworth, and get your mother's
address, and see whether Miss Thompson would
speak for you."

" O Chris ! dear Chris ! if you would, if you
could save me, I would never, never forget it. I
should be beholden to you forever," she cried with
clasped hands.

" There now," said Chris, retreating again from
her demonstrations. " Mind, I don't say as I can,
or that anything will come of it, but I'll do my
best ; for it is a shame that such things should be
laid to an innocent g^rl."

TO THE RESCUE, l6l

" Innocent ! Oh, say it again, Chris ; it does
me good to hear you say it.'*

"That's stuff, Katie. If your own conscience
says it, and God Almighty knows it, that's
enough," said Chris, bluntly. " There now, don't
cry again. You gave the thing to God. He will
take care it is all right with you."

" So my lady says ; but oh ! I do like to hear
you — "

But Chris said good night, and was off. He
was very sorry for her^ very indignant at the
accusation, and very anxious to help his kins-
woman and countrywoman; but she made him
horribly shy, and he did wish she would not be so
affectionate.

CHAPTER XIX.

THE CHAMPION.

A gentle knight came pricking o'er the plain.

Bright, faithful, true was he, in deed and word.

Spenser, Faerie Queen,

R. TODD consented, though he could
not well spare Crediton, who was just
now the only man to be trusted with
the stoves on frosty nights, since, just as his father
loved the crops and fields as if they were his chil-
dren, so Chris loved the plants, and it would have
gone to his heart to see them perish ; whereas to
the other men they were merely the means of
livelihood. It was shepherd or hireling.

However, Mr. Todd could pity the accused
maiden, nor did he wish that the donation in his
collecting bag should rest under the suspicion of
being stolen goods. So Chris was to have all

Thursday, going very early and returning by the

162

THE CHAMPION. 1 63

night mail. His early train was very early indeed,
quite in the dark ; but it brought him to the well-
known streets of Bridgeworth when every one
was up and stirring, and he could get a cup of hot
coffee and a ham sandwich at the station. More-
over, it was near enough to Christmas for him to
pick up a collection of penny presents that would
put the small ones at home into a state of ecstasy.

Then he made his way to his elder sister Alice,
who was in the same place where she had first
gone out, but seven years had brought her to be
the nurse instead of the nursery-maid; and she
had just sent her charges down to breakfast when
she received an urgent message to come and speak
to her brother for a few minutes.

He had to tell her his business hastily. " O
dear Katie ! " she exclaimed, " to think of her get-
ting into such trouble all by her gift ! Oh yes, I
saw the gold bracelet that night. It was a real
beauty — very curious links of gold, twisted to-
gether. I sat and looked at it, but I could not
ask about it because they were singing, and the
moment I began she was called off, and we never
came together again. I was sorry, for I never
wished her good-bye."

1 64 THE TREASURES IN THE MARSHES,

*' Should you know it agsiin?"

" I don't know, I didn't see it very close, but I
could speak to what it was like. O Chris! don't
let them have me up in court."

" I don't think it will come to that ; but you
had rather that than let poor Kate suffer? "

" Oh! yes, yes; I'm not so selfish."

Alice further gave him the address of Miss
Thompson, who, as she ssiid, was just the same as
ever. Indeed, it struck him as strange to find
everything going on as usual at Bridgeworth when
he had known so many changes. Miss Thompson
was one of the ladies who for years and years
never seem to alter, but to train generations of
children and G.F.S. girls one after another like an
institution. She remembered Kate Bulfinch, and
was glad to hear of her being such as young
Crediton reported, and with an effort she remem-
bered having noticed the bracelet, and thought it
unsuitable. She fancied Kate had told her that it
came from the brother in India, but allowed that
it might have been as the girl averred, namely,
that there was no denial of her own question.
She was very much touched by Kate's disposal of
the ornament, and promised with all her kind

THE CHAMPION. 1 65

heart to come to Balminster if needful, and to take
care of Alice, and even of Mrs. Bulfinch on the
journey. To tell the truth, she was one of those
bustling people who would rather have liked the
expedition, and she made Chris promise to tele-
graph to her if she were wanted. She wished him
to stay and have something to eat ; but it was lit-
tle past eleven o'clock, and he hoped to get home
by dinner-time, though he took the precaution of
buying a great sausage on his way, in case he
should find the home meal not calculated to
receive a great hungry youth, and thus " mother
should be put about.'*

For he found all the homely old considerations
arising in his mind as he trudged through the
heavy sticky lanes, and he began to whistle his
old plough-boy tunes, when the steeple of South
Lychford rose before him. The clock there
chimed out twelve o'clock, and as he passed the
school he heard the chanted Grace ringing out,
and the measured tramp beginning, and pausing,
he was rushed upon with a scream of " Our
Chris!" by Amy and Jem, while Ben, of old the
baby, hung back rather in awe of the well-dressed
brother, though it was only a few months since

1 66 THE TREASURES IN THE MARSHES.

they had met. Lucy, following more demurely,
reproached the little man for not remembering
" Brother Kis.*' And Ben was soon riding home
gloriously on his shoulders, while Amy and Jem
raced headlong in on mother with the news that
Chris was come !

Poor mother! it gave her a turn, and she had
to be assured that he was well and prosperous, and
nothing amiss with him, before she could enjoy
the sight of her tall, good-looking, bright-faced
son, " quite the gentleman," Lucy said, in his neat
tweed suit. The sausage was not at all unaccept-
able, though Chris could see that the staple of the
meal, a potato pie, had more meat in it than ever
was afforded on a week-day in his time.

Father and Tom were just at hand, old Kit
looking fairly well, though more bent, and walk-
ing as if his knees were tied together, and Tom as
tall as Chris himself, except for the slouch out of
which athletics had trained the elder brother.
Tom had man's wages, and had no aspirations be-
yond Lychford, so his father was satisfied, and
was now quite contented with, and even proud of,
his smart gentleman of a son, though it was not
his way to show it. When Chris explained his

THE CHAMPION. 1 67

business, the first comment from the old man was :
" Don't ye tell me you are going to take up with
one of them troUoping lot of Bulfinches.*'

" I never thought of such a thing/' returned
Chris, the colour for the very first time rising in
his face; "but I couldn't see an innocent maid
sent to prison for nothing at all."

" Don't put such things in the lad's head," said
his mother, rather sorry to see him turn as red as
his dear Begonia Toddiana.

However, no one could say that every exertion
should not be made on behalf of an innocent
young girl, and when Mrs. Crediton had heard the
whole story, she exclaimed, " Poor Bessy Bul-
finch ! Think of that ! And I have never been
over to see her since her husband's burial. I'll
put on my bonnet, Chris, and walk over with you.
Lucy, you'll be in time to see to Daddy's tea, if
Fm not home in time."

No one had a word to say against this arrange-
ment. Chris was delighted, and the younger chil-
dren were made happy with the contents of his
pockets, rather against the wishes of prudent
Lucy, who declared that they would never be
able to attend to their lessons for thinking about

1 68 THE TREASURES IN THE MARSHES.

their lucky bags ; but Chris could not be denied
the pleasure of giving the things, and of hearing
Amy's scream of joy, and seeing Ben's half-terri-
fied laugh as Jack-in-the-box leapt up. He did
not begin to fidget about mother being in time till
he had carried Ben back on his shoulder to the
Infant School. Mother was ready at last, having
really made as much haste as was possible to a
housewife with everything on her own hands, and
very nice she looked in her neat mourning; and
indeed she was far less thin and tired-looking than
Chris ever remembered to have seen her, for life
was really much less hard and anxious with her
than in old times, before he and Alice and even
Susan could give any help. Poor old Granny was
gone to her rest, well content, as she said, "to
give you no more trouble, my dear, but you've
been a right good daughter to me, thank the
Lord ! " Tom earned his living, and Lucy
brought in something. Mrs. Crediton declared
that she felt quite like a lady, only it was lone-
some now that even baby was at school all day.

She confided to Chris on their walk that she
was anxious about Jem. He was much sharper
than Tom, and would pass the fifth standard at

THE CHAMPION, 1 69

the next inspection. He wanted to go to the new
works at North Lychford ; but father would not
hear of it, and the men and boys there were ssiid
to be a rowdy set; yet there really seemed no
work for him at the farms in the parish.

Chris wondered whether he could get Mr. Todd
to take him on as a boy to sweep, weed paths, and
do errands, and whether father would let him go.
That walk was a great pleasure and comfort to
both mother and son, who could speak freely to
each other and much more deeply and helpfully
than usual, as they went through the long lanes,
where the hedges had decked themselves in a
hundred gay tints, and red, pink, and purple ber-
ries shone out here and there. Chris could not
help pausing now and again to gather a bright
shining blackberry, while he told his mother about
the handsome climbing American brambles that
were so hard to rear.

The perilous bridge at the mill had been re-
placed by an iron one, with good hand-rails. It
was not half so pretty in a picture, but much more
pleasant to cross, and when they were over it they
found themselves in a new world.

CHAPTER XX.

WHIN COMMON.

All the treasure had turned into slate stones.

Old Fairy Tale.

|0T only was the bridge new and passa-
ble, but the mill wheel was no longer
turning and dripping slowly, and the
building itself was being changed by additions of
red brick. The lane, which used to be a mere
cart track with deep banks covered with brush-
wood above and ferns below, had been widened
and the banks cut down, and where it was not
miry, it was very stony. Over the lowered hedge-
rows where Mr. Hunter's bams and stacks used to
be seen there arose red brick walls, chimneys, and
roofs of corrugated iron over long sheds, and there
were rows of red houses with slated roofs where
the thatched cottages used to be. Not a trace of

Mrs. Bulfinch's old house and drying ground could

170

WHIN COMMON. 171

be seen, and, as Mrs. Crediton observed, she
would not have known where she was but for the
church tower under the sloping woods that closed
in the valley.

Thither the mother and son bent their course,
hoping to find some old inhabitant who could
direct them to Mrs. Bulfinch. Finally Chris had
to make inquiry at the '* White Stag,*' and learnt
from the landlord there that Mrs. Bulfinch had
moved " up Awmouth way," out to Whin Common.

Chris knew where Whin Common was, having
been there with his father in his carter days. It
was nearly a mile farther on, and was a forlorn-
looking place, covered with dwarf furze, on which
a few blossoms lingered, mixed with bracken turn-
ing yellow and brown, and with a disconsolate
donkey and some noisy geese in the midst. There
were at intervals round the border, crazy-looking
huts such as squatters build on common land — or
used to build — for people are more particular now,
and waving in front of one of these, upon very
frail sticks, hung sheets, red petticoats, stockings,
and the like, which Mrs. Crediton recognised as
her cousin's banner, and exclaimed, '* There must
be Bessy Bulfinch, as sure as Tm alive."

172 THE TREASURES IN THE MARSHES,

And even as she spoke, from one of the shabbi-
est of the hovels, not much higher or better than
a pig-sty, close upon the road, without a bit of
garden, except, perhaps, the green moss and ferns
that covered the thatch, there came Mrs. Bulfinch
herself, to take in her clothes. As usual, she had
her coarse hoUand apron ; but her hair, under her
black net cap, was all abroad, and almost white,
and her face was furrowed, haggard, and aged,
so that Chris could not help thinking that the
three years and a half had made her as much older
as they had made his mother younger.

She did not know them at first; she would
hardly have known Chris any way ; but when Mrs.
Crediton exclaimed, "Bess, Bess Bulfinch, don't
you know me?*' she cried out, ''Alice Crediton, it
bain't ever you ! Oh my ! " and she gave a little
sob ; then with a start, ** You bain't come to tell
me no bad news,** and she trenibled like a shaky
woman, and seemed to have lost her old hale
hearty way.

Something of reassurance Mrs. Crediton said,
while both helped to take down the linen, and as
Chris pulled out the pegs, she looked up at him,
and exclaimed, " It ain't never little Chris ! " So

WHIN COMMON^ 1 73

in the two women went, while Chris lingered out-
side, glad to let his mother begin the history of
Kate's trouble; but presently he was called in.
The hovel, thanks to Mrs. Bulfinch's tidy habits,
was much better looking than the outside prom-
ised, being papered with old newspapers and
advertisements, and there was enough of the old
familiar furniture to crowd up the one room, which
was as steamy and oppressive with heat as Mr.
Todd's innermost forcing-house. Chris told his
history, and Mrs. Bulfinch, with the tears run-
ning down the deep channels under her eyes,
sighed, " My poor dear Kate ! That all the trou-
ble should have come on her too, poor dear ! that
was as innocent as a lamb. Only what should she
be giving such things to them that had no call
on her! But she was always a generous girl that
never knew how to keep anything to herself. To
think of her coming to be called a thief! Oh
dear! oh dear! I wish Wat had never come on
the nasty things ; we've had nothing but trouble
and worry ever since ! "

" Please tell me, Mrs. Bulfinch, about how Wat
did find them," said Chris. ''That's what is
wanted to clear Kate."

174 THE TREASURES IN THE MARSHES.

Mrs. Bulfinch began to tell in a rambling kind
of way, and Chris tried to set it down in his little
memorandum book with his pencil; but she
declared that to see him write, write there, just
like a bom lawyer, made her that nervous, she
could not go on. So, after he had gathered all he
could from her, he went outside, and, as his mas-
ter had advised, put all down, and then came back
and read it to her, and she allowed that it was all
true, and even signed it in an odd scrawl.

Meantime, much had been explained. Mrs.
Bulfinch could scarcely write more than was
enough, by long practice, to enable her to mark
off washing bills and sign receipts, and when
Walter was gone, she had no heart to write and
tell Kate. The return of Kate's letters was ex-
plained by the move to Whin Common; and
besides, the whole of the post-office arrangements
at North Lychford had been altered, and the let-
ters came through new hands, who had never
heard of the Bulfinches, and, after the modem
fashion of overtaxed postmen, found it easier to
write, " Not known here," and to send the letter
back, than to make inquiries. Thus Mrs. Bulfinch
had never known of Kate's change of service, nor

WHIN COMMON. 175

had Kate known of her mother's change of abode,
nor indeed that her soldier brother had died in
India. Mrs. Bulfinch, poor woman! had indeed
gone through a great deal. She was very lonely,
having thus lost sight of the children whom she
loved, and she was poorer than ever before, death
and removal having diminished her customers.
She had been almost compelled to take her pres-
ent abode, because she could nowhere else get
space for drying her linen without paying for it ;
but it gave her long walks in fetching and carry-
ing, and there was enough to account for her worn
looks.

Her hospitable nature wanted to give them tea,
which Mrs. Crediton could not but accept ; though
she found it really sad to hear her cousin mutter-
ing something about its being a long way to the
shop. The guests were afraid to eat more than a
small slice of the half loaf, with a little salt butter,
for they guessed that there was all her evening —
if not her morning — meal.

One thing was cheering. There was an ex-
ceedingly ugly little corrugated iron edifice, like a
tin canister, goffered all over, with a small cross at
the top, and as a tumult of very young children

176 THE TREASURES IN THE MARSHES.

came shouting out of it, Mrs. Bulfinch told them
that it was an infant school and chapel, and either
a curate or a lay-reader came out on Sundays and
held a simple service. " He do lay it down so
plain," she said, " and the prayers be so easy and
so hearty that I likes 'em."

" Tm right glad of that, Bessy,** said Mrs.
Crediton.

"Ah, you and your master, you always was for
your church ; but one gets so much to do with a
family coming on that one hasn*t no time. But
'tis lonesome here, and one can step in without
much of a best bonnet, you see," said Mrs. Bul-
finch, " and it seems to do one a bit of good."

" I'm sure of it, dear," said Mrs. Crediton.

And when the visit was over and the two
women were standing outside the door, while
Chris strolled up to get a closer look at the queer
little mission erection, Mrs. Bulfinch went on:
" Well, to be sure, what a gentleman he do look !
And all along of the notice they took of him about
that pot of gold. Alice, I told you that you were
a fool about it, to get nothing more out of it. I
don't know but what you might call me the fool.

WHIN COMMON. 177

Nothing has ever gone well since we laid hands on
that unlucky gold ! Wat grew unsettled — and —
and he that was to have been my comfort in my
old age, he went away and left me; and here's
poor Katie in trouble, and like to have her charac-
ter taken away about it."

" No, no, that will all come right, and she will
write to you, and come and see you.*'

" Oh, this is no place for a likely girl like her ;
but my poor, poor Wat ! If I could only see him
again — but I never shall. I shall go down all
alone to my grave, I that have been the mother
of seven."

Mrs. Crediton said what she could to cheer her
and give her hope, both on earth and in heaven,
but it was needful to leave her, as Chris had to
see his sister and Miss Thompson before he
returned to Balminster, since each had promised
to write down what she remembered of the gold
bracelet; and, besides. Miss Thompson was to
communicate with Mrs. Bulfinch in case their per-
sonal evidence was needed.

" I never did see such a place, mother," said
Chris, as they passed the " tin school," as the

178 THE TREASURES IN THE MARSHES.

children called it, on their rather weary way home-
wards. " It never would seem like one's prayers
there."

"And yet, with God's blessing, I do believe it
is putting poor Bessy Bulfinch on the right road
at last,*' said Mrs. Crediton, with all her heart,
though she listened with delight as Chris launched
out about the beautiful harvest decorations (many
of them from Mr. Todd's garden), and the lovely
music at Balminster.

CHAPTER XXI.

POSITIVE.

I will have it!
Shakespeare, Taming of the Shrew,

HRIS did not get to his lodging till one
o'clock in the morning; but, for once
in a way, and for such a cause, his
landlady had arranged for him to get in, and he
was up in time to run round by the Rectory on
his way to his work. Kate was watching for him,
but it was only possible— or he thought it so — to
tell her that it was all right, give into her hand the
envelope in which he had put all the evidence
which he had collected, and assure her that her
mother was quite well, and that the letters had
missed from both having changed their residence.
Kate was quiet now. There was no more hys-
terical crying, only a desperate clasp of her cham-
pion's hand, and thanks which seemed half choked.

179

l8o THE TREASURES IN THE MARSHES.

She looked exceedingly pale, as if she had been
awake all through the two nights. Somehow,
after all he had done for her, Chris could not help
feeling much more warmly towards her than he
had ever done before; perhaps because it had
been put into his head, which had hitherto been
only the head of a good industrious boy.

His master sent him to work in the Rectory
garden that he might be at hand when wanted ;
but he did not see Kate, for Lord de Vaux was
coming with his cousin, and they were to stay for
the night, so that the maids were taken up with
preparing the rooms.

If Kate had not known that her master and
mistress were perfectly satisfied by the papers, it
would have been hard to make the bed of her
prosecutor.

By-and-bye they came. Lord de Vaux, know-
ing nothing of Kate, believing his sister to be
rather easily imposed upon, and having only heard
Florence's version of the story, had come looking
very grave, and quite prepared to escort the lady
to one of the city magistrates to apply for a sum-
mons. How Kate longed to follow them into the
drawing-room, and see the effect of the papers !

POSITIVE. 1 8 1

" Be your friend's name Effie David ? '* asked
the page boy after breakfast. " For I heard my
lady say Effie David would get you off."

Thfey were not affidavits, but still Lady Clara
met her brother and cousin triumphantly, and put
the envelope into the hands of the latter with
"There, Florence!"

Florence looked. " Really, I don't see. This
is only the old woman's story, just as the young
man told her to say. Look " — handing the little
book to Lord de Vaux — " 'Alice Crediton,* ' Emily
Thompson.' Why, they have nothing to say but
that the girl had a gold bracelet three years ago.
I dare say she had, or something looking like
gold."

" H'm," said Lord de Vaux. " You see, this
Emily Thompson says that she is ready to come
and bear witness, and bring up the other two.
Who is she?"

"A lady at Bridgeworth — ^yes, the Band of
Hope secretary," said Lady Clara.

"A benevolent lady," burst out Miss de Vaux.
" I don't believe in benevolent ladies." At which
both her auditors burst out laughing; for each
would have described her as a benevolent lady.

1 82 THE TREASURES IN THE MARSHES,

quite as ready to run wild for a protegee as she
was at present to go against Kate.

" Really/' said Lord de Vaux, after reading all
the documents through, " if the girl can bring up
all these three witnesses, I do not think there
would be any chance of your getting a convic-
tion."

" Not if we telegraphed to Herbert to come and
identify the torque?"

" Hardly. It may not be the only torque in
existence. Don't you agree with me, Charles?"

" I am perfectly satisfied," said Mr. Melton.

" Come, Florence, why should you be so bitter
against the poor girl?" said Lord de Vaux.
"You have your torque, and why should you
hunt her down?"

" I hate hypocrisy and deceit, and I can't bear
Charles and Clara to be taken in," said Florence,
half sullenly.

"Thank you," said Lady Clara, sarcastically.
" Will you speak to this young man who has been
a knight-errant in Kate's cause?" she added to
her brother. " I see him putting in the bulbs.
Then you can judge whether he and Kate are in
conspiracy with each other to rob us."

POSITIVE, 183

"And you won't come with me to the Mayor? **
said Florence.

" No, certainly not. You would only get your-
self laughed at."

" When the fact remains that my very remark-
able torque was lost in this house, and that
woman, Katherine Goldfinch, Chaffinch, Bulfinch
— which is it? — for she goes by a false name, put
it into the offertory bag. I dare say, as you tell
me, that I might not get justice. There would
be plenty of perjury, and these town magistrates
would all believe it ; so no doubt it is of no use,
and I must give it up.''

Lady Clara could hardly help mortifying her
cousin by clapping her hands.

And when Lord de Vaux came back from his
conference with Chris, he was perfectly satisfied
that the young man spoke the truth to the best of
his knowledge, and that the story of Kate Bul-
finch's offering was quite genuine, though there
still remained the fact that Florence de Vaux's
property was not accounted for.

Indeed, the young lady was still so much
annoyed that she declared that, though she had
no quarrel with Charles and Clara, she could not

1 84 THE TREASURES IN THE MARSHES.

stay and be waited on by that artful woman, and
should go home at once to her sister in London.
She telegraphed at once, packed up her bag, and
started by the evening train, taking the collar with
her, sending word by Lord de Vaux that the rest
of her goods should be despatched after her.

\^

CHAPTER XXII.

THE DISCOVERY.

4

Little Bo Peep

Has lost her sheep,

And cannot tell where to find them ;

Let them alone

And they'll soon come home,

And bring their tails behind them.

H, my dear Clara, what shall I say? —
what shall I do ? — how shall I ask your
poor good girl's pardon, or yours, or
Charles's? The very first thing I saw when I
opened my jewel case was my own torque repos-
ing on its blue velvet! I had meant to take it,
but finding it would not go conveniently into my
dressing- box, I left it, and there it had been all
the while ! And if I had sworn, or Herbert had
sworn to it, we should have been fearfully wrong ;
for now I see them together, the scales of mine

are smaller, and do not hang so loosely as the

185

1 86 THE TREASURES IN THE MARSHES.

Other. Oh! what has not your young knight-
errant, as you may well call hun, saved me from !
Please give him the amount of his journeys — I do
not dare to offer him any more; and here is a
small attempt at showing poor Kate my sorrow
for the hasty accusation, and what I made her
suflfer. I shall not be happy till she has written
her pardon to me.

" I am going this very day to take the torque
to the office of the Waifs and Strays at the Church
House, to whom it properly belongs. Please write
me your forgiveness, dear Clara, and Charles's,
though I shall be ashamed ever to show my fade
in Balminster again. Never more shall I be sure
of anything?

" Your loving and bitterly ashamed,

"F. de V."

"Poor Flo!*' cried Lady Clara.

Mr. Melton burst out into a hearty fit of laugh-
ing.

"I must ring and tell Kate! Oh! Look at
this! It is all she can do; but, poor thing! it is
more than she can well afford, considering that
she began by redeeming the torque from the
Waifs."

THE DISCOVERY, 1 87

" Never mind. There can't be a better way of
teaching a lesson than a little personal incon-
venience.**

Kate was really struck speechless with joy, and
grew so pale that Mr. Melton was alarmed and
left her to his wife.

When she saw the present Miss de Vaux had
sent, the colour came back, and she said, " O my
lady ! it is very kind in her, but I don't somehow
feel as if I ought to take it."

"I do not think Miss de Vaux will feel as if you
forgave her if you do not, Kate," said Lady Clara,
" though I quite understand your feeling. Would
you like us to keep it and put it into the savings-
bank?"

" Well, my lady, since she is so good, I should
like to have it for poor mother. Crediton was
telling me, my lady, that times have gone so very
hard with her, I was sorry to think all my last
wages were gone, and I was looking out a few
clothes to send her; for Crediton told me his
mother thought she had not warm clothes enough
for such a damp place. And she said, did poor
mother, that if she could only get a little pig, it
would be sort of company for her, and she would

L

1 88 THE TREASURES IN THE MARSHES.

not feel it so lonesome. So FU send it to her,
and thank Miss de Vaux, and you, my lady."

Kate had found her tongue, and to some pur-
pose, for to the collection of goods which were not
quite nice enough for Rectory service, including
one dress that did indeed cost some self-denial.
Lady Clara added a good plaid wrap with a burnt
comer, rather too remarkable to be bestowed on a
parishioner of her own, but which would warm
Mrs. Bulfinch by night or day as might suit her
best.

There was no difficulty now as to the address,
and Kate was happiness itself as she wrote to her
mother, told her what to look out for at Awmouth
station, and sent the enclosure.

On one point there was still a little doubt. The
Society for Waifs and Strays were uncertain
whether they ought to acc^t the offering of the
gold collar without the consent of the person who
had the first right to it. They would hardly have
obtained it if Farmer Hunter had been still alive,
but the childless widow was living at Awmouth,
fairly well off, and she had always been a very
different person from him, meek, subdued, and
showing little will of her own. When she heard

THE DISCOVERY, 189

that the collar had actually been offered at the
altar on behalf of the poor desolate children, she
declared that she should be afraid to take it back
again ; and indeed, what she heard of the Waifs
and Strays touched and interested her so much in
them, that it ended in her taking two small orphan
girls into her house, whom she found better com-
pany than even the little pig was to Mrs. Bulfinch.

The torque was taken to the learned, who
decided that it was very precious indeed, and
proved just the missing link in the history of the
Northmen, and it was purchased for a museum
with a large sum of money, enough to start three
waifs at least in the way of good training. So
that Kate's offering, though it brought her pain
and sorrow at first, really turned out full of bless-
ing.

For things with her mother began to look up.
Walter, bronzed, manly, and sailor-like, suddenly
found his way one evening to Whin Common.
An accident on board ship had taught him the
value of home and mother, and he did not mean
to make long American voyages again. There
was plenty of employment in the little traders at
Awmouth, and there he meant to stay, a greatly

I90 * THE TREASURES IN THE MARSHES,

Steadied and sobered man. He never fully told
his experiences, but they had made him much
more considerate and affectionate to his mother,
as well as more thoughtful and serious-minded.
He made her live in a neat new house on the bor-
ders of Whin Common, very like the first houses
which children draw on their slates, but very com-
fortable, and within reach of the "tin church."
And there began what, though she hardly knew
it, was the really happiest time of Mrs. Bulfinch's
life, above all when Kate came to pay her a visit.

As to Kate and Chris Crediton, they are not
engaged, and as both are under twenty-two this is
just as well, but they take walks in the nursery
garden on summer Sunday afternoons. Kate
knows the longest names of the flowers, and Chris
now and then drinks tea in the Rectory servants'
hall.

What this may come to depends a good deal on
the steadiness and power of constancy in the two
young people. If anything happened to call
either away from Balminster, most likely there
would be an absolute engagement. Or, if the
foreman gave up, and his pretty banksia- and
clematis- covered lodge were offered to Crediton,

THE DISCOVERY.

191

or perhaps Lord de Vaux's lodge and gardens,
most likely matters would be hastened; but in
the meantime they are both content to wait, and
it is to be hoped it will prove that each has found
the best treasure there is on earth.

FINIS.

I

i