"Signed, sealed, and delivered," says Mr Clerk, rolling up the sheet and handing it to Maskew; and Maskew takes and thrusts it into his bosom underneath his waistcoat front all cheek by jowl with that silver-hafted pistol, whose butt I had seen before.

The postchaise stood before the door, the horses were stamping on the cobble-stones, and the harness jingled. Mr Clerk had carried out his mails, but Mr Bailiff stopped for a moment as he flung the travelling cloak about his shoulders to say to Elzevir, "Tut, man, take things not too hardly. Thou shalt have the Mermaid at #20 a year, which will be worth ten times as much to thee as this dreary place; and canst send thy son to Bryson's school, where they will make a scholar of him, for he is a brave lad"; and he touched my shoulder, and gave me a kindly look as he passed.

"I thank your worship", said Elzevir, "for all your goodness; but when I quit this place, I shall not set up my staff again at any inn door."

Mr Bailiff seemed nettled to see his offer made so little of and left the room with a sniff "Then I wish you good day."

Maskew had slipped out before him, and the children's noses left the window-pane as the great man walked down the steps. There was a little group to see the start, but it quickly melted; and before the clatter of hoofs died away, the report spread through the village that Maskew had turned Elzevir out of the Why Not?

For a long time after all had gone, Elzevir sat at the table with his head between his hands, and I kept quiet also, both because I was myself sorry that we were to be sent adrift, and because I wished to show Elzevir that I felt for him in his troubles. But the young cannot enter fully into their elders' sorrows, however much they may wish to, and after a time the silence palled upon me. It was getting dusk, and the candle which bore itself so bravely through auction and lease-sealing burnt low in the socket. A minute later the light gave some flickering flashes, failings, and sputters, and then the wick tottered, and out popped the flame, leaving us with the chilly grey of a March evening creeping up in the corners of the room. I could bear the gloom no longer, but made up the tire till the light danced ruddy across pewter and porcelain on the dresser. "Come, Master Block," I said, "there is time enough before May Day to think what we shall do, so let us take a cup of tea, and after that I will play you a game of backgammon." But he still remained cast down, and would say nothing; and as chance would have it, though I dished to let him bin at backgammon, that so, perhaps, he might get cheered, yet do what I would that night I could not lose. So as his luck grew worse his moodiness increased, and at last he shut the board with a bang, saying, in reference to that motto that rats round its edge, "Life is like a game of hazard, and surely none ever sung worse throws, or made so little of them as I."


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