"'Nonsense!' says he. 'Put the money in your pocket, and don't be a fool.'
"'I can't take it, sir. You're not giving it to me for nothing; and I know I cannot do for any money what you want,' says I; for I guessed at once what he wanted.
"'What do I want?' says he, getting white and red all by turns.
"'It's something about the register, sir; and I can't think of it any longer. I must go now,' says I, 'There's your money.' And with these words I stuffed the notes into the pocket of his riding-coat, and opened the door and ran home.
"I did not tell the rector. I was too much afraid. But that night, and every night for a fortnight after, I slept in the vestry, with an axe and a crowbar handy, but no one ever came. I never saw the gentleman since; and the leaf is still in the book.
"'And what are the names on that leaf?' asked Edward Graham, the young artist.
"George Temple Cheyne and Harriet Mansfield."
CHAPTER IV.
[A TOWN STORY.]
"It is the fifty-second chapter," said the Duke of Long Acre. "You will remember, May," his grace continued, as he turned over the proof-slips in his hand, "you will remember, May, that in the chapter before this Antony Belmore had been out of employment for two months, and that he was at his wits' end to know how to get even bread."