HIDDEN TREASURE.
"Mother," said Jeremiah Pamflett, the next day, when he reached
Parksides, "I am going to make a move; I am getting tired of playing a
waiting game."
"Something has occurred, then, Jeremiah?" asked Mrs. Pamflett, her keen
eyes on her son's face.
"Well, I went to the theatre last night, and sat in the pit, while
Phoebe--_my_ Phoebe, mother--and her precious set were in a private
box, dressed up to the nines, with flowers and all sorts of things."
"The Lethbridges, Jeremiah?"
"Yes, the Lethbridges, and that lawyer chap."
"I told you there was danger in that quarter, Jeremiah."
"And I told _you_ to mind your own business. Do you think this Phoebe
affair is the only one I've got to look after? There are other schemes,
mother, with heaps of money hanging to them, which will land me in a
carriage as sure as guns. I'm going to take in the sharpers; I'm going
to prove that I'm the sharpest fellow _they_ ever had to deal with; I'll
have thousands out of them! They think they know a lot, but they don't
know everything. Why, with my head for figures and calculations, I ought
to be as rich as the Rothschilds! I'll tell you all about it by-and-by."
"You are always keeping things from me, Jeremiah," said Mrs. Pamflett,
in an injured tone. "Why not tell me now?"
"Because I don't choose. Still tongue, wise head."
"I might keep things from you, Jeremiah," said Mrs. Pamflett; and there
was now a sly note in her voice which caused Jeremiah to bristle up.
"Oh, you would, would you! You've got something to tell, and you won't
tell it! All right. I've done with you." He turned to go, but she seized
his arm and detained him.
"No, no, Jeremiah! I've no one in the world but you. I'll tell you
everything, everything!"
"Well, out with it; and never speak to me again like that, or it will be
the worse for you. Mind what I say!"
"I will, Jeremiah--I will. Shut the door, and look first that there's no
one outside."
"Who should be outside?" he asked, when he returned to his mother's
side.
"Speak low, Jeremiah. Miser Farebrother is as cunning as a fox. For all
his lameness, he can creep about the house as soft as a cat. I was awake
last night with a bad toothache, and I heard his bedroom door creak, and
then I heard him go softly, softly down-stairs. 'What is he up to?' I
thought, and I slipped out of bed and into the passage. There was no
fear of his hearing _my_ door creak; I keep the hinges well oiled; and
it was dark, and he couldn't see me. Would you believe it, Jeremiah? It
was past two o'clock in the morning, and he went out of the house. I was
afraid to go after him, because if he had turned suddenly back, and shut
the street door upon me, I shouldn't have been able to get in without
his finding me out. So I waited and waited, wondering what he was about.
I suppose it must have been twenty minutes at least before he came back;
but he did come at last, and, oh, Jeremiah; you never in all your life
saw anybody as sly as he was! He looked round and round, and this way
and that, to make sure he was alone, and then he crawled upstairs. How
he managed it I don't know, he was in such pain; but not a groan, not a
sound, escaped him. And he was carrying a large cash-box, too, that I
had never seen before. It was covered with mud, and of course I jumped
at the truth; it had been buried somewhere in the grounds, and he had
gone out in the middle of the night to dig it up. You may guess what a
state of excitement I was in, and I said to myself, 'For Jeremiah's sake
I'll see the end of it.' It took him almost another twenty minutes to
get to his room; he had to sit on the stairs a dozen times to rest, and
I couldn't help thinking what a wonderfully sly man he was that he
should be doing what he was doing, and what perhaps he's done over and
over again, without my ever being able to find it out."
"You may well say that," grumbled Jeremiah. "A nice article you are to
look after my interests! Catch me being in the house all the years
you've been, and being taken in like that! I wouldn't have believed it
of you if anybody else was telling me."
"I wouldn't have believed it of myself, Jeremiah; but better late than
never, my boy."
"Better soon than late: that's the proper way of it. But go on, can't
you? He got back to his room, and there was you outside the door,
peeping through the key-hole?"
"Yes, Jeremiah, and Miser Farebrother none the wiser. He wiped the mud
off the cash-box and opened it. Jeremiah, it was stuffed full of gold
and bank-notes. He counted it and counted it over and over again, and he
wrote down some figures on a piece of paper. Then he put the money back
and locked the box, and hid it under his mattress. After that he tore up
the paper he'd been writing on, and blew out the candle, and went to
bed. I heard him groaning there for an hour afterward."
"Is that the end of it?" asked Jeremiah, in a wrathful voice and with
wrathful looks. "Do you mean to tell me that is the end of it?"
"No, it isn't; there's something more. Never you call me a fool again. I
went into his room as usual this morning, and you may depend I looked
about for the box; but I couldn't catch sight of it. Oh, he's a cunning
one, he is! But I did catch sight of something. I had my hand-broom and
shovel, and I swept up the floor and the fireplace, and brought away the
pieces of paper he had torn up. I asked him if he'd had a good night,
and he said he fell asleep the moment he put his head on the pillow, and
that he must have slept seven or eight hours right off. I told him he
looked as if he'd had a splendid rest--which he didn't, Jeremiah. He was
the picture of misery. When I got away from him I sorted out the pieces
of paper and stuck them together. Here it is. He must be richer than we
think, Jeremiah. Look! Ten one hundred pounds--bank-notes, Jeremiah! I
saw him count 'em--that's a thousand. Twenty fifties--that's another
thousand. Fifty twenties--that's another thousand. And another thousand
in sovereigns. He laid 'em in piles upon the table. They did look grand!
Piles of gold. Jeremiah! Four thousand pounds altogether. You didn't
know anything about it, did you?"
"No, I didn't," replied Jeremiah, his eyes glittering greedily. "He must
have had the money by him a long time, I expect. Did you look about the
grounds for his hiding-place?"
"Yes; but I didn't find it. I couldn't see the slightest signs of one."
"_I'll_ find it, mother."
"You mustn't do anything rash, Jeremiah; you mustn't get yourself into
trouble."
"Not likely, mother. Trust me for looking after myself. All his money is
mine, and I mean to have it! By fair means, mother--by fair means; and
he sha'n't cheat me out of a penny. Once I get hold of Phoebe--. Well,
all right! I shall know how to work it. I'll go now and have a talk with
him."