“But, Philip!” Tinman lifted his voice; “I’ve lost everything. I tried to save a little. I worked hard, I exposed my life, and all in vain.”
The voice of little Jane was heard.
“What’s the matter with the child?” said Van Diemen.
Annette went up to her quietly.
But little Jane was addressing her master.
“Oh! if you please, I did manage to save something the last thing when the boat was at the window, and if you please, sir, all the bundles is lost, but I saved you a papercutter, and a letter Horse Guards, and here they are, sir.”
The grateful little creature drew the square letter and paper-cutter from her bosom, and held them out to Mr. Tinman.
It was a letter of the imposing size, with THE HORSE GUARDS very distinctly inscribed on it in Tinman’s best round hand, to strike his vindictive spirit as positively intended for transmission, and give him sight of his power to wound if it pleased him; as it might.
“What!” cried he, not clearly comprehending how much her devotion had accomplished for him.
“A letter to the Horse Guards!” cried Van Diemen.