“I wish you’d answer my question, Mack. Would a pound replace the articles that have been stolen?”
“Why, in course it would, sir,” returned Mack, staring. “But where be I——”
“Don’t bother. Look here: there’s a pound”—tossing the sovereign to him. “Buy yourself new ones, and think no more of the old ones.”
Mack could not believe his eyes or ears. “Oh, Mr. Joseph! Well, I never! Sir, you be——”
“But now, understand this much, Mack. I only give you the money on one condition—that you say nothing about it. Tell nobody.”
“Well, I never, Mr. Joseph! A whole golden pound! Why, sir, it’ll set me up reg’lar in——”
“If you don’t attend to what I am saying, Mack, I’ll take it away again. You are not to tell any one that you have had it, do you hear?”
“Sir, I’ll never tell a blessed soul.”
“Very well. I shall expect you to keep your word. Once let it be known that your lost clothes have been replaced, and we should have the rest of the men losing theirs on speculation. So keep a silent tongue in your head; to the Squire as well as to others.”
“Bless your heart, Mr. Joseph! I’ll take care, sir. Nobody shan’t know on’t from me. When the wife wants to ferret out where I got ’em, I’ll swear to her I’ve went in trust for ’em. And I’m sure I thank ye, sir, with all my——”