had somebody to look after him when he was struck with Death, instead of lying gasping out his last there, alone by himself.’
‘It’s the truest word that ever was spoke,’ said Mrs. Dilber. ‘It’s a judgment on him.’
‘I wish it was a little heavier judgment,’ replied the woman: ‘and it should have been, you may depend upon it, if I could have laid my hands on anything else. Open that bundle, old Joe, and let me know the value of it. Speak out plain. I’m not afraid to be the first, nor afraid for them, to see it. We knew pretty well that we were helping ourselves before we met here, I believe. It’s no sin. Open the bundle, Joe.’
But the gallantry of her friends would not allow of this; and the man in faded black, mounting the breach first, produced his plunder. It was not extensive. A seal or two, a pencil-case, a pair of sleeve-buttons, and a brooch of no great value, were all. They were severally examined and appraised by old Joe, who chalked the sums he was disposed to give for each upon the wall, and added them up into a total when he found that there was nothing more to come.
‘That’s your account,’ said Joe, ‘and I wouldn’t give another sixpence, if I was to be boiled for not doing it. Who’s next?’
Mrs. Dilber was next. Sheets and towels, a little wearing apparel, two old fashioned silver teaspoons, a
