"Look sharp with that candle," said a voice; "it's as much as I can do to see the cards as it is. Game! Seven-and-sixpence to me, old Isaac. Hand over."
"Do you hear, Nell—do you hear them?" whispered the old man again, as the money chinked upon the table.
The child looked at the old man with alarm. His face was red and eager, his eyes were strained, his teeth set, his breath came short and thick, and the hand he laid upon her arm shook like a leaf.
"What money have we, Nell? Come, I saw you with money yesterday. What money have we? Give it to me."
"No, no; let me keep it, grandfather," said the poor child. "Let us go away from here. Do not mind the rain. Pray let us go."
"Give it to me, I say," cried the old man fiercely. "Hush, hush! don't cry, Nell. If I spoke sharply, dear, I didn't mean it. It's for thy good. I have wronged thee, Nell, but I will right thee yet; I will, indeed. Where is the money?"
"Do not take it," said the child. "Pray do not take it, dear. For both our sakes let me keep it, or let me throw it away; better let me throw it away than you take it now. Let us go; do let us go."
"Give me the money," returned the old man; "I must have it. There—there—there's my dear Nell. I'll right thee one day, child. I'll right thee, never fear!"
She took from her pocket a little purse. The old man caught it from her hand and hastily made his way to the other side of the screen, Nell keeping close behind him.
The landlord had placed a light upon the table and was drawing the curtain of the window. The speakers whom they had heard were two men, who had a pack of cards and some silver money between them.