She came back into the kitchen, a mist before her eyes, and fell heavily on a chair by the fire. Mary Anne approached her, only to be pushed back. The widow stood listening, in an agony.
It took Saunders a minute or two to complete his case. Then he slowly descended the stairs, carrying the box, his great weight making the house shake. He entered the kitchen first, John behind him. But at the same moment that they appeared, the outer door opened, and Isaac Costrell, preceded by a gust of snow, stood on the threshold.
'Why, John!' he cried, in amazement—'an Saunders!'
He looked at them, then at Mary Anne, then at his wife.
There was an instant's dead silence.
Then the tottering John came forward.
'An I'm glad yer come, Isaac, that I am—thankful! Now yer can tell me what yer wife's done with my money. D'yer mind that box? It wor you an I carried it across that night as Watson come out on us. An yo'll bear me witness as we locked it up, an yo saw me tie the two keys roun my neck— yo did, Isaac. An now, Isaac'—the hoarse voice began to tremble—'now there's two—suverins—left, and one 'arf-crown—out o' seventy-one pound fower an sixpence—seventy-one pound, Isaac! Yo'll get it out on 'er, Isaac, yer will, won't yer?'
He looked up, imploring.
Isaac, after the first violent start, stood absolutely motionless, Saunders observing him. As one of the main props of Church Establishment in the village, Saunders had no great opinion of Isaac Costrell, who stood for the dissidence of dissent. The two men had never been friends, and Saunders in this affair had perhaps exercised the quasi-judicial functions the village had long by common consent allowed him, with more readiness than usual.
As soon as John ceased speaking, Isaac walked up to Saunders.