"Perhaps yer don' know--I'm sartin sure yer don' know--leastways I'm hinclined that way,--as Mrs. Costrell"--he made a polite inclination towards Bessie--"'ave been makin' free with money--fower--five--night a week at the Spotted Deer--fower--five--night a week. She'd used to treat every young feller, an' plenty old 'uns too, as turned up; an' there was a many as only went to Dawson's becos they knew as she'd treat 'em. Now, she didn't go on tick at Dawson's; she'd _pay_,--an' she allus payed in 'arf-crowns. An' those 'arf-crowns were curious 'arf-crowns; an' it came into Dawson's 'ead as he'd colleck them 'arf-crowns. 'Ee wanted to see summat, 'ee said--an' I dessay 'ee did. An' people began to taak. Last night theer wor a bit of a roompus, it seems, while Mrs. Costrell was a-payin' another o' them things, an' summat as was said come to my ears--an' come to Watson's. An' me an' Watson 'ave been makin' inquiries--an' Mr. Dawson wor obligin' enough to make me a small loan, 'ee wor. Now, I've got just one question to ask o' John Borroful." He put his hand into his waistcoat pocket, and drew out a silver coin. "Is that yourn, John?" John fell upon it with a cry. "Aye, Saunders, it's mine. Look ye 'ere, Isaac, it's a king's 'ead. It's Willum--not Victory. I saved that 'un up when I wor a lad at Mason's--an' look yer, there's my mark in the corner--every 'arf-crown I ever 'ad I marked like that." He held it under Isaac's staring eyes, pointing to the little scratched cross in the corner. "'Ere's another, John--two on 'em," said Saunders, pulling out a second and a third. John, in a passion of hope, identified them both. "Then," said Saunders, slapping the table solemnly, "theer's nobbut one more thing to say--an' sorry I am to say it. Them coins, Isaac"--he pointed a slow finger at Bessie, whose white, fierce face moved involuntarily--"them 'arf-crowns wor paid across the bar lasst night, or the night afore, at Dawson's, by _yor wife_, as is now stannin' there, an' she'll deny it if she can!" For an instant the whole group preserved their positions--the breath suspended on their lips. Then Isaac strode up to his wife, and gripped her by the arms. "Did yer do it?" he asked her. He held her, looking into her eyes. Slowly she sank away from him; she would have fallen, but for a chair that stood beside her. "Oh, yer brute!" she said, turning her head to Saunders an instant, and speaking under her breath, with a kind of sob. "Yer _brute_!" Isaac walked to the door, and threw it open. "Per'aps yer'll go," he said grimly. And the three went, without a word. SCENE V