Stranica 203 [203]
149
child into the world some years before:
not merely in the same room, but in the
same bed in which she then lay dying.”
6 Ay?” said Monks with quivering lip,
and glancing over his shoulder. " Blood!
How things come about at last!”
s The child was the one you named to
him last night,” said the matron, nodding
carelessly towards her husband; " the
mother this nurse had robbed.”
“Tn life?’ asked Monks.
something like a shudder. ‘She stole
from the corpse, when it had hardly turned
to one, that which the dead mother had
prayed her with her last breath to keep
for the infant’s sake.”
sc She sold it?” cried Monks with des¬
perate cagerness; “did she sell it?—
where t-—when !—to whom ?!—how long
before?"
“As she told me with great difficulty
that she had done this,” said the matron,
“she fell back and died.”
4 Without saying more?” cried Monks
in a voice which, from its very suppres¬
sion, seemed only the more furious. “It’s
a lie! [711 not be played with. She said
more—I[ 711 tear the life out of you both,
but 1711 know what it was.”
‘She didn’t utter another word,” said
the woman, to all appearance unmoved
(as Mr. Bumble was very far from being)
by the strange man’s violence; "but she
clutched my gown violently with one
hand, which was partly closed, and when
I saw that she was dead, and so removed
the hand by force, I found it clasped a
scrap of dirty paper.”
“Which contained
Monks, stretching forward.
“ Nothing,” replied the woman; “it
was a pawnbroker’s duplicate.”
c For what,” demanded Monks.
“In good time [711 tell you,” said the
woman. “I judge that she had kept the
trinket for some time, in the hope of turn¬
ing it to better account, and then pawned
it, and saved or scraped together money
to pay the pawnbroker’s interest year by
year, and prevent its running out, so that
if anything came of it, it could still be re¬
deemed. Nothing had come of it; and,
interposed
paper, all worn and tattered, in her hand.
The time was out in two days; I thought
something might one day come of it too,
and so redeemed the pledge.”
“Where is it now?” asked Monks
quickly.
" égre replied the woman. And,
threw upon the table a small kid bag
scarcely large enough for a French watch,
which Monks pouncing upon, tore open
with trembling hands. It contained a lit¬
tle gold locket, in which were two locks
| of hair, and a plain gold wedding-ring.
“Tt has the word ‘ Agnes’ engraved on
the inside,” said the woman. " There is
a blank left for the surname, and then fol¬
lows the date, which is within a year be¬
fore the child was born; I found out that.”
*“ And this is all?” said Monks, after a
close and eager scrutiny of the contents
of the little packet.
(6 All,” replied the woman.
| Mr. Bumble drew a long breath, as if
he were glad to find that the story was
over, and no mention made of taking the
| five-and-twenty pounds back again; and
now took courage to wipe off the persp¬
ration, which had been trickling over his
nose unchecked during the whole of the
previous conversation.
“TI know nothing of the story beyond
what I can guess at,” said his wife, ad¬
dressing Monks after a short silence,
“and I want to know nothing, for it’s
safer not. But I may ask you two ques¬
tions, may I?”
| “ You may ask,” said Monks, with some
show of surprise, “ but whether I answer
or not is another question.”
Which makes three,” observed Mr.
Bumble, essaying a stroke of facetious¬
ness.
“Is that what you expected to get from
, me?" demanded the matron.
| “It is,” replied Monks. “The other
question !—”
“What you propose to do with it. Can
it be used against me?"
“ Never,” rejoined Monks; “ nor against
me either. See here; but don’t move a
step forward, or your life’s not worth a
bulrush !”
With these words he suddenly wheeled
the table aside, and pulling an iron ring
in the boarding, threw back a large trap¬
door which opened close at Mr. Bumble’s
feet, and caused that gentleman to retire
several paces backward with great pre¬
cipitation.
“ Look down,” said Monks, lowering
gulf. 5 Dont fear
me. Icould have let you down quietly
enough when you were seated over it, if
that had been my game.”
Thus encouraged, the matron drew
near to the brink, and even Mr. Bumble
himself, impelled by curiosity, ventured
todo the same. The turbid water, swol¬