“Not so, Pasco,” laughed Jason; “it is the agency I have got. The Star and Garter knows that I am the sort of man they require, that wanders over the land and has the voice of a nightingale. I shall have a policy taken out for you shortly, Pasco.” “Indeed you shall not.” “Confiscate the donkey if I don’t. But I’ll not trouble you on this score now. How is the little toad?” “What--Kate?” “To be sure, Kitty Alone.” “Come and see. What have you been about this time, Jason?” “Bless you! I have hit on Golconda. Brimpts.” “Brimpts? What do you mean?” “Don’t you know Brimpts?” “Never heard of it. In India?” “No; at Dart-meet, beyond Ashburton.” “And what of Brimpts? Found a diamond mine there?” “Not that, but oaks, Pasco, oaks! A forest two hundred years old, on Dartmoor. A bit of the primæval forest; two hundred--I bet you--five hundred years old. It is not in the Forest, but on one of the ancient tenements, and the tenant has fallen into difficulties with the bank, and the bank is selling him up. Timber, bless you! not a shaky stick among the lot; all heart, and hard as iron. A fortune--a fortune, Pasco, is to be picked up at Brimpts. See if I don’t pocket a thousand pounds.” “You always see your way to making money, but never get far for’ard along the road that leads to good fortune.” “Because I never have had the opportunity of doing more than see my way. I’m crippled in a leg, and though I can see the road before me, I cannot get along it without an ass. I’m crippled in purse, and though I can discern the way to wealth, I can’t take it--once more--without an ass. Brother-in-law, be my Jack, and help me along.” Jason slapped Pasco on the broad shoulders. “And you make a thousand pounds by the job?” “So I reckon--a thousand at the least. Come, lend me the money to work the concern, and I’ll pay you at ten per cent.” “What do you mean by ‘work the concern’?” “Pasco, I must go before the bank at Exeter with money in my hand, and say, I want those wretched scrubs of oak and holm at Brimpts. Here’s a hundred pounds. It’s worthless, but I happen to know of a fellow as will put a five pound in my pocket if I get him some knotty oak for a bit of fancy-work he’s on. The bank will take it, Pasco. At the bank they will make great eyes, that will say as clear as words, Bless us! we didn’t know there was oak grew on Dartmoor. They’ll take the money, and conclude the bargain right on end. And then I must have some ready cash to pay for felling.” “Do you think that the bank will sell?” “Sell? it would sell anything--the soil, the flesh off the moors, the bones, the granite underneath, the water of heaven that there gathers, the air that wafts over it--anything. Of course, it will sell the Brimpts oaks. But, brother-in-law, let me tell you, this is but the first stage in a grand speculative march.” “What next?”