as no reason now why he
should stay a moment longer--and yet he sat on, from sheer fatigue and
disinclination to move.

"Now we come to Lot 254, gentlemen," he heard the auctioneer saying,
mechanically; "a capital Egyptian mummy-case in fine con---- No, I beg
pardon, I'm wrong. This is an article which by some mistake has been
omitted from the catalogue, though it ought to have been in it.
Everything on sale to-day, gentlemen, belonged to the late General
Collingham. We'll call this No. 253_a_. Antique brass bottle. Very
curious."

One of the porters carried the bottle in between the tables, and set it
down before the dealers at the farther end with a tired nonchalance.

It was an old, squat, pot-bellied vessel, about two feet high, with a
long thick neck, the mouth of which was closed by a sort of metal
stopper or cap; there was no visible decoration on its sides, which were
rough and pitted by some incrustation that had formed on them, and been
partially scraped off. As a piece of _bric-a-brac_ it certainly
possessed few attractions, and there was a marked tendency to "guy" it
among the more frivolous brethren.

"What do you call this, sir?" inquired one of the auctioneer, with the
manner of a cheeky boy trying to get a rise out of his form-master. "Is
it as 'unique' as the others?"

"You're as well able to judge as I am," was the guarded reply. "Any one
can see for himself it's not modern rubbish."

"Make a pretty little ornament for the mantelpiece!" remarked a wag.

"Is the top made to unscrew, or what, sir?" asked a third. "Seems fixed
on pretty tight."

"I can't say. Probably it has not been removed for some time."

"It's a goodish weight," said the chief humorist, after handling it.
"What's inside of it, sir--sardines?"

"I don't represent it as having anything inside it," said the
auctioneer. "If you want to know my opinion, I think there's money in
it."

"'Ow much?"

"Don't misunderstand me, gentlemen. When I say I consider there's money
in it, I'm not alluding to its contents. I've no reason to believe that
it contains anything. I'm merely suggesting the thing itself may be
worth more than it looks."

"Ah, it might be _that_ without 'urting itself!"

"Well, well, don't let us waste time. Look upon it as a pure
speculation, and make me an offer for it, some of you. Come."

"Tuppence-'ap'ny!" cried the comic man, affecting to brace himself for a
mighty effort.

"Pray be serious, gentlemen.