“We were fixing the old stone wall at Paddy’s Run,” continued Sam. “The Morris Brothers have the contract, and Ab Morris came and asked me if I’d hand—.”
“No use of telling all the details,” said the squire sharply. “Keep to the point. There’s no use telling what Ab said to you or you to Ab.”
“Well, no need to cut me short. There’s plenty of time to tell details, as you call them, and everything else that pertains to this here subject which we have in hand. We’ve been a wantin’ to know these things for ten years and couldn’t. Then what’s the use of gettin’ in a rush and tell everything in a minute.”
“There’s no danger of you ever doing those two things—getting in a rush and telling everything in a minute. You couldn’t do it, Sam.” The squire was habitually sarcastic.
“We’ll drive slow. It may be a rough road, and we’re driving in the dark, so to speak. We were fixing the wall, anyway. Bill Yothers, he was knocking out the loose stone, when he stops and says to me, ‘Sam, that looks mighty like a purse, that I’ve knocked down there. You’d better get it.’ Well, I did. I dropped the reins and went over and picked it up. I examined it carefully before I opened it, and—.”
Eliza had taken up the purse. No doubt it had dropped from the carriage when Old Prince took his mad leap, and had lodged among the stones in the wall to be hidden away for over ten years. It had been partially protected from the weather.
Miss Eliza opened it gingerly. It almost fell to pieces as she did so. The leather flap at the top fell from it. Within the double compartment were pieces of paper thick with mildew. These were intact enough to show that they once were bills. There was a little silver, and a trunk check of brass. This was green with corrosion, so that the number had been effaced.
Without a word, Eliza took it and went to the kitchen. Beth was close at her side. Neither could speak, but the atmosphere was fairly vibrating with suppressed emotion. Eliza took down her scouring soap from the shelf and began rubbing the check.
“This will do little good,” she said after a moment. “I’ll dip it in lye and scour it with ashes.”
“Yes,” said Beth, hurrying into the wash-house and returning with the can of lye. Eliza put the check on a saucer and covered it for an instant with the lye. Then she rubbed it with wood ashes.