"Yes. Let me inform you, Squire Collins, that though I have lived as a hermit, I am really a moderately rich man, and some time since transferred without his knowledge five thousand dollars to Mark here, who, as you see, is really chief owner of the shop from which you discharged him."
"I didn't dream of this!" ejaculated the squire.
"I presume not," said the hermit dryly.
"If Mark chooses to come back into the shop, I will raise his wages."
"My friend Hardy intends to offer Mark a position in his office in the city, which I think will suit him better. It only remains to say that this cottage will be vacated on Saturday."
"I don't want to inconvenience Mrs. Manning," said the squire, filled with respect by the unexpected prosperity of those whom he had come to bully. "Stay another week if you wish."
"We don't wish, thank you," said Mark.
It was a wonderful story that Squire Collins had to tell at home, and the deep chagrin of James can be imagined. But he was worldly wise, and he soon decided to court the boy he had hitherto despised. What annoyed him most was the thought Mark held a mortgage on his father's shop, and was to live in a house handsomer than his own.
Five years have elapsed since the incidents recorded above. Mark fills a responsible position in the office of Mr. Hardy, with a handsome salary. Little Jack is now a rosy, healthy child of thirteen, and those who remembered him as a match boy would not know him now. His grandfather's happiness is bound up in his little grandson, but he is still very much attached to Mark, and he has made a new will, in which he divides his fortune equally between these two.