Again there rose the shuffle of feet, again heads were nodded, and elbows nudged neighbouring ribs, and all eyes were focussed upon Bellew who was in the act of lighting his pipe.
"One hundred and six pounds!" cried the Auctioneer, "at one six!—at one six!—"
Bellew struck a match, but the wind from the open casement behind him, extinguished it.
"I have one hundred and six pounds! is there any advance, yes or no?—going at one hundred and six!"
Adam who, up till now, had enjoyed the struggle to the utmost, experienced a sudden qualm of fear.
Bellew struck another match.
"At one hundred and six pounds!—at one six,—going at one hundred and six pounds—!"
A cold moisture started out on Adam's brow, he clenched his hands, and muttered between his teeth. Supposing the money were all gone, like his own share, supposing they had to lose this famous old side-board,—and to Grimes of all people! This, and much more, was in Adam's mind while the Auctioneer held his hammer poised, and Bellew went on lighting his pipe.
"Going at one hundred and six!—going!—going!—"
"Fifty up!" said Bellew. His pipe was well alight at last, and he was nodding to the Auctioneer through a fragrant cloud.