"Um! I see," mused Captain Lamport; "lots of money--eh!"
"I expect so." And then with a knowing smile Sarkies added, "The padre has the church funds, y'know."
"He! he!" laughed the captain, and poked Sarkies in the ribs; "sly dog--you're a deep one, you are."
Mr. Sarkies, much flattered by the compliment, proposed a drink, and the captain assented. In answer to his host's request to "name the poison," the captain suggested monkeys, and the monkeys were brought. Then there was more billiards and more betting, then a little rest and more monkeys, then monkeys, billiards, and betting combined, and finally Mr. Sarkies knew no more.
When he awoke again the stars were shining palely above him, and there was a faint flush in the east. His hands were resting on something damp on each side of him; he looked, and realized that he was on the open plain in front of the Fort. Instinctively he felt for his watch chain. It was gone. Mr. Sarkies rose to his feet, and the horizon swam before him. He placed his hand to his burning head, and staggered rather than walked toward the road. A late cab passed. Into this he entered and drove home.
CHAPTER X.
[EXIT MANUEL.]
During the last few days there had been great changes in the interior of the manse. The worn-out matting was renewed, and the squatter spider expelled from the corner where he had long revelled in security. The tumble-down sofa was condemned, and a comfortable lounge took its place. Everywhere there was a look of freshness. All day long there was the sound of hammering and cleaning up. Halsa and Mrs. Bunny personally superintended the reformation. Galbraith was willing enough to help, but he had no "hands," and was therefore relegated to his study. But with Manuel it was different. For the first time in his life Manuel realized what work was, and he was profoundly convinced that he and true labour would never agree. It was not enough that he had been called upon to clean and scrub, to hew wood and draw water, but insult was added to injury by Mrs. Bunny inquiring into the arrangements of the menage.
"Two bags of sugar a month!" said that excellent woman, holding up her hands in despair; "why, if it were all used, the man must be a lollipop shop inside."
"Who keeps the keys?" asked Halsa. She was halfway up a ladder, a small hammer in her hand. Manuel stood at the foot of the ladder holding it firmly with one hand, so that it should not slip, while with the other he held out at arm's length a plate full of tin tacks. The position was strained and unpleasant. "Who keeps the keys? Oh!" she shrieked, "how sharp those nails are!" and she drew back her fingers smartly and began to examine their tips. To one of them a tack was clinging. Halsa hastily descended, and Mrs. Bunny removed the offending tack. It left a small blue mark on the finger tip. In the meanwhile Manuel remained silent. He had no intention of replying to the question, and his yellow eyes glistened with pleasure at the little accident, which had apparently called away attention from an embarrassing inquiry. But Manuel was mistaken, for when Halsa had examined the mark for a moment, and was satisfied that it was only a prick, she returned again to the charge and repeated her question.