Instead of opening it, the widow handed it to Mr. Pye, with a sign of request that he would read it first. Such a confidence embarrassed far more than it flattered poor Enoch, whose scrupulosity had never before been so directly invaded. He offered the letter beseechingly to Melea, who, of course, would not receive it; and, at length, finding that the widow’s tears went on to flow faster, he took courage to break the seal, put on his glasses, and read. A crow of delight from him soon told the ladies that the news was good. Melea started up; the widow’s handkerchief was lowered, and Enoch cast a wistful look at her over his spectacles, as if wondering whether she was strong enough to bear what he had to impart. A sweet, encouraging smile made him redden all over, and hasten to say that Philip was safe, the whole affair settled, and Edgar the immediate cause of this happy issue.
“But how? Did not he buy the guineas, after all? Was it not against the law? Or, oh! were guineas no longer more valuable than paper?” This last question was asked with considerable trepidation, and answered by Melea’s reading the letter, which was as follows:—
“My dear Mother,—I am almost sorry I wrote to you at all yesterday, as my letter must have made you more uneasy than, as it turns out, there was occasion for. It struck my husband, as soon as he had time to think the matter over quietly, that there were a good many light guineas among those that Philip bought. He established the fact so clearly, (having them brought from the very drawer that the informer saw them swept into,) that Philip was discharged without any more difficulty; and the informer is very ill pleased with the turn the affair has taken. You may suppose Philip will use particular care henceforth, knowing that he has this informer for an enemy; and I am afraid the man will be Edgar’s enemy too. But it is a great satisfaction, as I hope you will feel, that Edgar has got him off; and I hope they will both keep clear of any more such dangers. It is near post-time; so I will only add that we suppose nobody need know, down at Haleham, anything about this business, unless it should happen to be in the newspapers; and then, if they should ask, you may be able to make light of it.
“Love from Philip, (who is in his shop as if nothing had happened,) and from your affectionate daughter,
”Hester Morrison.”
Melea did not understand the case, happy as she was at its termination. What made it more a crime to sell heavy guineas than light ones?
Enoch informed her that a guinea which weighs less than 5 dwts. 8 grs. is not a guinea in law. It may pass for twenty-one shillings, but the law does not acknowledge that it is worth so much.
“I wonder how much Edgar got for such an one,” said the widow, “and how much for the heavy ones?”
“The heavy ones sell, under the rose, I understand, for a £1 bank-note, four shillings, and sixpence, while those who thus exchange them for more than a £1 bank-note and one shilling are liable to fine and imprisonment. But a man may sell a light guinea for twenty-four shillings and threepence, and nobody will find fault with him;—a single half grain of deficiency in the weight making the coin nothing better in the eye of the law than so much gold metal.”
“Then a light guinea, unworthy to pass, is actually more valuable in a legal way just now than a heavy one,” said Melea. “How very strange! How very absurd it seems!”