“Very well, I thank y’,” answered Eli in a restrained voice, and looked from side to side, as though for a place of escape. “Julia has told me all,” said the young man, “and I always did think Jack Hannaford was a wun’nerful schemin’ man. That there is a clever idea of his. I’m sure he’ll succeed.” Old Rattenbury breathed freely. “Sure—cock sure,” said he. “Now, look here, Eli,” continued Dick; “I ask your advice. I’ve saved a bit o’ money—in all some twenty-five pounds—a little more or less. Now, that wi’ the ten pound Julia has lent to the old gem’man makes thirty-five, and if it be doubled, as you say, it will be forty-five. Now, if I’d a matter of about a hundred pound, I’d take Yatton Farm, and would stock it; it ain’t a terrible big place, and I could manage it. What say you? would old Jack Hannaford double the twenty-five as well as the ten?” “Sure he would.” “Then I’ll risk it, and yet I’d like to be sure first. I think I’ll see if he doubles Julia’s loan. If he do that, then I’ll trust him in the same way with the rest—twenty-five. But you say I must wait a month.” “Oh dear no, two days suffice. Pigs fatten, as dandelions blow, all of a night in Americay.” “Well, I can but try.” “Don’t go to the grave till Thursday, and we’ll be there together. We’ll see; maybe the money may then be doubled, maybe it won’t.” “Very well, Thursday; I’d be afraid to go alone.” On the following Thursday Eli Rattenbury appeared at the cottage door; Richard Redlake was awaiting him. “Look here,” said he, pouring out a sack of gold on the table, “twenty-five sovereigns. Won’t somebody be pleased?” “I believe you,” said Eli, “let’s make haste.” So the two men went to the churchyard. No one was about—no one observed them. “I don’t know where Julia put the money,” said Rattenbury. “But I do,” said Dick. “Here in the middle, and sure enough, here is a jam pot, and something in it, on my word! Money—gold—Eli. Well, now, they do turn cash over up there pretty smart. How much is it? Twenty sovereigns, as I’m a man. By George, Eli, all this mine?” “Certainly, it is the interest on the loan.” “But for three days!” “They’re wun’nerful generous over yonder, to Americay.” “And I can take it in all honest conscience?” “To be sure you may. If not yours, whose is it?” “Then, Eli Rattenbury, I don’t think I’ll put any more out to interest. I’ve done so well with this that I’ll bide content.” And Richard put the twenty sovereigns in with the twenty-five. Then he looked up into Rattenbury’s face. “What’s the matter, man? got a stomach ache?” “I ain’t well, I’ll go home. Don’t y’ think now ’twould be fitty to share with me?” “Not at all, Eli; the loan was mine. The interest accordin’ is mine. Suppose you now go and put a little money under the turf and see if Jack Hannaford will treat you in the same way? You don’t look comfortable as I likes to see you, Eli; go home and sleep and dream again.” FROM DEATH TO LIFE FROM DEATH TO LIFE