"Ah!—but that's jest where I were mistook, Mr. Belloo, sir,—because 'e did."
"Did what, Adam?"
"Found the fortun' as he were always a-lookin' for,—a sack o' golden soverings, sir, an' bank-notes, Mr. Belloo, sir,—bushels on 'em; enough—ah! more 'n enough to pay off that mortgage, and to send that theer old Grimes about his business,—an' away from Dapplemere for good an' all, sir."
"So Grimes is really paid off, then, is he, Adam?"
"I done it myself, sir,—wi' these here two 'ands,—Three thousand pound I counted over to him, an' five hundred more—in banknotes, sir, while Miss Anthea sat by like one in a dream. Altogether there were five thousand pound as that blessed b'y dug up out o' the orchard—done up all in a pertater sack, under this very i-dentical tree as you'm a set-tin' under Mr. Belloo sir. E'cod, I be half minded to take a shovel and have a try at fortun'-huntin' myself,—only there ain't much chance o' findin' another, hereabouts; besides—that b'y prayed for that fortun', ah! long, an' hard he prayed, Mr. Belloo sir, an'—'twixt you an' me, sir, I ain't been much of a pray-er myself since my old mother died. Anyhow, the mortgage be paid off, sir, Miss Anthea's free, an' 'tis joy'ful, an' 'appy-'earted I be this night. Prudence an' me'll be gettin' married soon now,—an' when I think of her cookin'—Lord, Mr. Belloo sir!—All as I say is God bless Master Georgy! Good-night, sir! an' may your dreams be as 'appy as mine,—always supposin' I do dream, —which is seldom. Good-night, sir!"
Long after Adam's cheery whistle had died away, Bellew sat, pipe in mouth, staring up at the moon. At length, however, he rose, and turned his steps towards the house.
"Mr. Bellew!"
He started, and turning, saw Anthea standing amid her roses. For a moment they looked upon each other in silence, as though each dreaded to speak, then suddenly, she turned, and broke a great rose from its stem, and stood twisting it between her fingers.
"Why did you—do it?" she asked.
"Do it?" he repeated.