w much yer 'ad?' 'Nobbut Eliza--nobbut
Eliza!' said the old man again.

'Yer didn't tell _me_, I know,' said Saunders, blandly.

John seemed to shrink together under the smith's glance. If only he had
not been a jealous fool, and had left it with Saunders!

Saunders, however, refrained for the present from drawing this
self-evident moral. He sat twirling his cap between his knees, and his
shrewd eye travelled round the kitchen, coming back finally to Bessie,
who was washing and drying diligently. As he watched her cool movements
Saunders felt the presence of an enemy worthy of his steel, and his
emulation rose.

'I understan, Mrs. Costrell,' he said, speaking with great civility, 'as
the cupboard where John put his money is a cupboard _hon_ the stairs?
Not in hany room, but _hon_ the stairs? Yer'll kindly correck me if I
say anythin wrong.'

Bessie nodded.

'Aye--top o' the stairs--right-'and side,' groaned John.

'An John locked it hisself, an tuk the key?' Saunders proceeded.

John plucked at his neck again, and, dumbly, held out the key.

'An there worn't nothin wrong wi the lock when yo opened it, John?'

'Nothin, Muster Saunders--I'll take my davy.'

Saunders ruminated. 'Theer's a cupboard there,' he said suddenly,
raising his hand and pointing to the cupboard beside the fireplace.
'Is't anythin like the cupboard on th' stairs, John?'

'Aye, 'tis!' said John, startled and staring. 'Aye, 'tis, Muster
Saunders!'

Saunders rose.

'Per'aps,' he said slowly, 'Mrs. Costrell will do us the favour ov
lettin us hexamine that 'ere cupboard?'

He walked across to it. Bessie's hand dropped; she turned sharply,
supporting herself against the table, and watched him, her chest
heaving.

'There's no key 'ere,' said Saunders, stooping to look at the lock. 'Try
yours, John.'

John rushed forward, but Bessie put herself in the way.

'What are yer meddlin with my 'ouse for?' she said fiercely. 'Just mek
yourselves scarce, all the lot o' yer! I don't know nothin about his
money, an I'll not have yer _insultin_ me in my own place! Get out o' my
kitchen, if _yo_ please!'

Saunders buttoned his coat.

'Sartinly, Mrs. Costrell, sartinly,' he said, with emphasis. 'Come
along, John. Yer must get Watson and put it in 'is hands. 'Ee's the law
is Watson. Maybe, as Mrs. Costrell ull listen to '_im_.'

Mary Anne ran to Bessie in despair.

'O Bessie, Bessie, my dear--don't let 'em get Watson; let 'em look
into't their