“Shall I fill the receipt,” asked Val, looking to Solomon.
“Fill it,” said the other, “I am very glad I happened to have so much about me, poor man.”
“So am I,” returned Sam, significantly.
Solomon rose, and with all the calmness of manner which he could assume, laid the money down before M'Clutchy.
“Try,” said he, “if that is right.”
“Show here,” said Sam, “ail reckon em;” and having done so, he put one particular note in his pocket—“Never you mind,” he added, addressing himself to Val, “I'll give you another note for this;” and he winked significantly as he spoke. He accordingly did so, and having paid the money and received his receipt, he bid them goodbye, once more winking, and touching his waistcoat pocket as he went. He had not been long gone, however, when Solomon once more examined his pocket-book, and in a tone which no pen could describe, exclaimed, “verily, the ways of Providence are wonderful! Will you look again at that money?” said he—“I have given away a note for ten pounds instead of a note for one.”
“It is not here, then,” replied Val, “but I'll venture to say that Sam, the knave, put it in his pocket when he made the exchange.”
“Shall I call him back?” said Phil, “there he goes towards the gate.”
“No,” replied the other, “I have great reliance on Sam's honesty. He will return it no doubt on perceiving the mistake, or if not, I shall send to him for it. Yes, I know Sam is honest—truly the ways of Providence are wonderful.”
So saying, with a visage peculiarly rueful and mortified, he closed his book and put it in his pocket.