"Yes," said Madrasia. "It would be so kind of you to tell us that!"
Mr. Weech smiled, drumming his fingers on the crown of his hat.
"Well!" he said, graciously, "I'll tell you! Of course, I came to tell Mr. Parslewe—but you'll do. And no doubt you'll be able to tell me something. Well, me first, then. As I said, I'm Bickerdale's son-in-law. I married his third daughter, Melissa—she's all right. Naturally, being in the relation I am to Bickerdale, I'm a good deal in and out of his place—go there Sundays, with the wife and kid. Now, not so very long ago, I was there one Sunday, and happening to go into his workshop for a smoke—my mother-in-law having a decided objection to tobacco in the parlour—I set eyes on that article—that very copper box! I was a a bit taken with the engraved coat-of-arms and the queer motto underneath, and I asked Bickerdale where he'd got it. He told me that Mr. Parslewe of Kelpieshaw had brought it to him to be repaired—it had got slightly damaged by a fall, and needed a coppersmith's attention. We talked a bit about it. Bicker-
