‘Well, then—as brother to brother—I did.’
‘For what purpose, Watt?’
‘My dear Jasper, can we live on air? Here am I hopping about the woods, roosting in the branches, and there is poor Martin mewed up in his ark. I must find food for him and myself. You know that I have made the acquaintance of the young lady who, oddly enough, bears the name of our dear departed mother and sister. I have appealed to her compassion, and held out my hat for money. I offered to dance on my head, to turn a wheel all round the edge of this cliff, in jeopardy of my life for half a guinea, and she gave me the money to prevent me from risking broken bones.’
‘Oh, Watt, you should not have done this!’
‘We must live. We must have money.’
‘But, Watt, where is all that which was taken from my pocket?’
‘Gone,’ answered the boy. ‘Gone as the snow before south-west wind. Nothing melts like money, not even snow, no, nor butter, no, nor a girl’s heart.’ Then with a sly laugh, ‘Jasper, where does old addle-brains keep his strong box?’
‘Walter!’ exclaimed Jasper, indignantly.
‘Ah!’ laughed the boy, ‘if I knew where it was I would creep to it by a mouse hole, and put my little finger into the lock, and when I turned that, open flies the box.’
‘Walter, forbear. You are a wicked boy.’