Meanwhile Sir Arthur, his heart warm with his good fortune, said aloud, “Never mind our friend Monkbarns, Mr. Dousterswivel, but come to the Castle to-morrow, and I’ll convince you that I am not ungrateful for the hints you have given me about this matter--and the fifty Fairport dirty notes, as you call them, are heartily at your service. Come, my lads, get the cover of this precious chest fastened up again.” But the cover had in the confusion fallen aside among the rubbish, or the loose earth which had been removed from the grave--in short, it was not to be seen. “Never mind, my good lads, tie the tarpaulin over it, and get it away to the carriage.--Monkbarns, will you walk? I must go back your way to take up Miss Wardour.” “And, I hope, to take up your dinner also, Sir Arthur, and drink a glass of wine for joy of our happy adventure. Besides, you should write about the business to the Exchequer, in case of any interference on the part of the Crown. As you are lord of the manor, it will be easy to get a deed of gift, should they make any claim. We must talk about it, though.” “And I particularly recommend silence to all who are present,” said Sir Arthur, looking round. All bowed and professed themselves dumb. “Why, as to that,” said Monkbarns, “recommending secrecy where a dozen of people are acquainted with the circumstance to be concealed, is only putting the truth in masquerade, for the story will be circulated under twenty different shapes. But never mind--we will state the true one to the Barons, and that is all that is necessary.” “I incline to send off an express to-night,” said the Baronet. “I can recommend your honour to a sure hand,” said Ochiltree; “little Davie Mailsetter, and the butcher’s reisting powny.” “We will talk over the matter as we go to Monkbarns,” said Sir Arthur. “My lads” (to the work-people), “come with me to the Four Horse-shoes, that I may take down all your names.--Dousterswivel, I won’t ask you to go down to Monkbarns, as the laird and you differ so widely in opinion; but do not fail to come to see me to-morrow.” Dousterswivel growled out an answer, in which the words, “duty,”--“mine honoured patron,”--and “wait upon Sir Arthurs,”--were alone distinguishable; and after the Baronet and his friend had left the ruins, followed by the servants and workmen, who, in hope of reward and whisky, joyfully attended their leader, the adept remained in a brown study by the side of the open grave. “Who was it as could have thought this?” he ejaculated unconsciously. “Mine heiligkeit! I have heard of such things, and often spoken of such things--but, sapperment! I never, thought to see them! And if I had gone but two or dree feet deeper down in the earth--mein himmel! it had been all mine own--so much more as I have been muddling about to get from this fool’s man.”