When Jonathan's activity had threatened to destroy everything in the house with water, B'lindy finally became convinced that there was to be no fire. "Funniest lightnin' I ever see," she declared, breathlessly dropping into a chair; "set down that pail, Jonathan—you've most drowned us all. Thank Heaven, here comes Nancy."
Nancy and Peter, after one glance at the bricks scattered over the garden, had guessed what had happened.
"Struck,—sure as preachin'! Lucky we ain't burned to a crisp. Just look at the muss!" and B'lindy swept her arm toward the sitting-room door.
Nancy's face was tragic as she saw the broken mantel and the gaping fireplace. She clutched Peter's arm. "What a pity—what a shame! It was so very old and—and——" She leaned down and picked up one of the pieces. "Look, Peter, here are parts of the letters! See H-A-P. It had been cracked by another lightning storm, you know, years and years ago! Oh, I'm afraid it has been destroyed so that——" as she spoke she searched in the debris on the floor for more of the carving. Suddenly she cried out sharply and, straightening, held out an old, worn, stained leather wallet. "Peter! B'lindy! Aunt Sabrina!"
Her cry brought Miss Sabrina, alarmed, running.
"It must—be—the—wallet!"
Now it was Sabrina who cried out—a protesting, frightened cry. For a moment she staggered as though she was going to fall; Nancy's strong arm went closely around her.
"Look quickly, dear Aunt Sabrina," Nancy implored.
With trembling fingers Aunt Sabrina opened it—within lay mouldy, age-worn bank-notes—many of them!
"It must have fallen behind the mantel in that other storm," cried Nancy. Then a great joy shone in her face. "He didn't take it—Anne's grandfather!" she stopped abruptly. But Miss Sabrina had not even heard her, and Peter was too mystified by the whole thing to think Nancy's words strange. Miss Sabrina turned, with a stricken face.