“Do you so? and you’ll tell me just now,” said she, half opening her hand, “that you forget who gave you this, and who charged you not to part with it, too.” Here she quite opened her large hand, and on the palm of it appeared Jem’s silver penny. “Where?” exclaimed Jem, seizing it, “oh, where did you find it? and have you—oh, tell me, have you got the rest of my money?” “I know nothing of your money—I don’t know what you would be at,” said the milk-woman. “But where—pray tell me where—did you find this?” “With them that you gave it to, I suppose,” said the milk-woman, turning away suddenly to take up her milk-pail. But now Jem’s mistress called to her through the window, begging her to stop, and joining in his entreaties to know how she came by the silver penny. “Why, madam,” said she, taking up the corner of her apron, “I came by it in an odd way, too. You must know my Betty is sick, so I came with the milk myself, though it’s not what I’m used to; for my Betty—you know my Betty?” said she, turning round to the old woman, “my Betty serves you, and she’s a tight and stirring lassy, ma’am, I can assure—” “Yes, I don’t doubt it,” said the lady, impatiently; “but about the silver penny?” “Why, that’s true; as I was coming along all alone, for the rest came round, and I came a short cut across yon field—no, you can’t see it, madam, where you stand—but if you were here—” “I see it—I know it,” said Jem, out of breath with anxiety. “Well—well—I rested my pail upon the stile, and sets me down awhile, and there comes out of the hedge—I don’t know well how, for they startled me so I’d liked to have thrown down my milk—two boys, one about the size of he,” said she pointing to Jem, “and one a matter taller, but ill-looking like; so I did not think to stir to make way for them, and they were like in a desperate hurry: so, without waiting for the stile, one of ’em pulled at the gate, and when it would not open (for it was tied with a pretty stout cord) one of ’em whips out with his knife and cuts it— Now, have you a knife about you, sir?” continued the milk woman to the farmer. He gave her his knife. “Here, now, ma’am, just sticking, as it were here, between the blade and the haft, was the silver penny. The lad took no notice; but when he opened it, out it falls. Still he takes no heed, but cuts the cord, as I said before, and through the gate they went, and out of sight in half a minute. I picks up the penny, for my heart misgave me that it was the very one husband had had a long time, and had given against my voice to he,” pointing to Jem; “and I charged him not to part with it; and, ma’am, when I looked I knew it by the mark, so I thought I would show it to _he_,” again pointing to Jem, “and let him give it back to those it belongs to.” “It belongs to me,” said Jem, “I never gave it to anybody—but—” “But,” cried the farmer, “those boys have robbed him; it is they who have all his money.”