"Don't be frightened to order anything that'll do him good," I said. "There's money for anything." "And how may that be?" he asked. I told him of Mr Garside's secret store, and then by a happy afterthought, I told him that the old man fancied he had a wife and child living somewhere, and that he had left it in charge to me to ferret them out, and if I didn't find them in three years the money was to be mine. "Is there much?" "I haven't counted it--but there's a sight more than ever I saw in my life before." "This wants thinking on," said Dr. Dean. "You bide here while I go down and see to that roving blade. 'Tis only a gunshot in his foot. I'll have him on his leg's in a day or two. Best have him carted off to th' Burnplatts. Does he know about this money of the old man's?" "No, no one knows but you and me, that I'm aware of." "And best he shouldn't. I wouldn't trust a Burnplatter as far as I can throw a bull by the tail. But you must have a woman in the place there'll be one wanted ere many hours be gone; he'll scarce last the day out, or I'll be cheated. Do you know of any decent body hereabouts?" I mentioned Mary at Wrigley Mill. "Couldn't be better. I'll ride on to th' "Floating Light" and have my breakfast, and sore I need it; and I'll send someone down for her. She must bring some sheets too. They'll be needed to lay him out. And I'll draw up some make of a Will about that money. It will never do to have only your word for it." Now that very thought had more than once crossed my mind. I suppose I must have dropped into the deep dreamless sleep of utter exhaustion in the chair I had drawn to Mr. Garside's bedside. I was roused by a familiar voice below, plain enough to be heard. "Weel, if ever aw saw a pig-hoil i' my life, this is it"--'twas Mary soliloquising--"an' aw reckon this'll be th' pig, he snores enough for a styeful, choose how. Eigh! Waken up. Who's to do th' house up, an' thee sprawling on th' hearthstone. Well, of all th' messes! Blood all ovver th' floor. Th' doctor said nowt about a shambles or he'd no ha' got me ovver th' moor." "Mary," I called softly. "It's here you're wanted. I'll see to Ephraim." And so, to my great relief, I got Mary installed as nurse. I made some breakfast for Ephraim and myself, to which, despite his wound, which the doctor had dressed and of which Ephraim made very light, that worthy did ample justice. Then I curled myself up before the fire and slept like a log. CHAPTER III. POLE MOOR.