atiently
while the great preliminary affair of the dealer in meat was being
settled. At that hour Sam had not made his appearance; but between
twelve and one he sauntered into the comfortless room in which Carry
was still sitting with her father. The sight of him was a joy to poor
Carry, as he would speak to her, and tell her something of what was
going on. "I'm about in time for the play, father," he said, coming
up to them. The miller picked up his hat, and scratched his head, and
muttered something. But there had been a sparkle in his eye when he
saw Sam. In truth, the sight in all the world most agreeable to the
old man's eyes was the figure of his youngest son. To the miller no
Apollo could have been more perfect in beauty, and no Hercules more
useful in strength. Carry's sweet woman's brightness had once been as
dear to him,--but all that had now passed away.

"Is it a'going all through?" asked the miller, referring to the mill.

"Running as pretty as a coach-and-four when I left at seven this
morning," said Sam.

"And how did thee come?"

"By the marrow-bone stage, as don't pay no tolls; how else?" The
miller did not express a single word of approbation, but he looked
up and down at his son's legs and limbs, delighted to think that
the young man was at work in the mill this morning, had since that
walked seventeen miles, and now stood before them showing no sign of
fatigue.

"What are they a'doing on now, Sam?" asked Carry, in a whisper. Sam
had already been into the court, and was able to inform them that
the "big swell of all was making a speech, in which he was telling
everybody every 'varsal thing about it. And what do you think,
father?"

"I don't think nothing," said the miller.

"They've been and found Trumbull's money-box buried in old mother
Burrows's garden at Pycroft." Carry uttered the slightest possible
scream as she heard this, thinking of the place which she had known
so well. "Dash my buttons if they ain't," continued Sam. "It's about
up with 'em now."

"They'll be hung--of course," said the miller.

"What asses men is," said Sam; "--to go to bury the box there! Why
didn't they smash it into atoms?"

"Them as goes crooked in big things is like to go crooked in little,"
said the miller.

At about two Sam and Carry were told to go into Court, and way
was made for the old man to accompany them. At that moment the
cross-examination was being continued of the man who, early on the
Sund