"When you've got all there is to be got out there you'll want to get home and enjoy it——"
"Man! It'd take a hunderd years to go through it all. It's bin piling up there since ever this bank silted up."
"Oh well, we don't want to stop here a hundred years, that's certain. What's the good of it all if you can't make any use of it?"
"It's graand to handle anyway."
And when they had eaten, he opened some of his bundles and displayed his treasures,—a jewelled 'George,' roughly cut from some Garter-knight's court-coat, several smaller decorations, all more or less ornamented with precious stones, three dress-swords with mountings, in ivory and gold, a small wooden box lined with sodden blue velvet in which were half a dozen rings, some of which from the size of the stones and the massiveness of their setting, seemed to Wulfrey of considerable value.
"They're worth something, all those," said Macro, as he handled them with loving exultation.
"Ay, if you could get them home and turn them into money. I don't see what use they're going to be to you here," said Wulfrey, fiddling his own string again.
"They're fine to have anyway."
"I'd sooner have another pipe and some more tobacco than the whole of them."
"Ye can have that too," and he rooted in another bundle and produced both. "They're oot a dead man's chest and they're wet. But he's no use for 'em and they'll dry. So there ye are. Ye dinnot care for jewels?" and he looked at Wulfrey wonderingly.