Mr. Ashley put the cheque into one of the pigeon-holes of his desk. He had the account in duplicate before him, of the goods going off, and was casting it up. William and Cyril were both in the counting-house, but not engaged with Mr. Ashley. William was marking small figures on certain banded gloves; Cyril was looking on, an employment that suited Cyril amazingly. His want of occupation caught the Quaker's eye. "If thee has nothing to do, thee can come and help me count the papers of coppers." Cyril dared not say "No," before Mr. Ashley. He might have hesitated to say it to Samuel Lynn; nevertheless, it was a work he especially disliked. It is _not_ pleasant to soil the fingers counting innumerable five-shilling brown-paper packets of copper money; to part them into stacks of twelve pence, or twenty-four halfpence. In point of fact, it was James Meeking's work; but there were times when Samuel Lynn, William, and Cyril had each to take his turn at it. Perhaps the two former liked it no better than did Cyril Dare. Cyril ungraciously followed to the serving-room. In a few minutes James Meeking looked in at the counting-house. "Is the master ready?" Mr. Ashley rose and went into the next room, carrying one of the duplicate lists. The men were waiting to pack--James Meeking and the other packer, a young man named Dance. The several papers of boxes were ready on a side counter; and Mr. Ashley stood with the list in his hand, ready to verify them. Had Samuel Lynn not been occupied with serving, he would have done this. "Three dozen best men's outsizes, coloured," called out James Meeking, reading the marks on the first parcel he took up. "Right," responded Mr. Ashley. James Meeking laid it upon the packing-table--clear, except for an enormous sheet of brown paper as thick as card-board--turned to the side counter and took up another of the parcels. "Three dozen best men's outsizes, coloured," repeated he. "Right," replied Mr. Ashley. And so on, till all the parcels were told through and were found to tally with the invoice. Then began the packing. It made a large parcel, about four feet square. Mr. Ashley remained, looking on. "You will not have enough string there," he observed, as the men were placing the string round it in squares. "I told you we shouldn't, Meeking," said George Dance. "There's no more downstairs," was Meeking's answer, "I thought it might be enough." Neither of the men could leave the parcel. They were mounted on steps on either side of it. Mr. Ashley called to William. "Light the lantern, and go upstairs to the string-closet. Bring down a ball."