The journey to Rangoon was now likely to be accomplished, thanks to the Chinese Monster. When Douglas picked it off the cobble stones, from among coarse common crockery, how little he dreamed what a factor this figure would prove in his future—it had been the means of shaping his destiny! On Friday morning he sent in a formal acceptance of Mr. Martin’s offer and, having obtained leave, hurried away to the Caledonian Market, in search of the old rag and bottle female. It was half-past twelve o’clock when he arrived, he was late, and her pitch was empty. Had she departed already? On inquiry he was informed that old Mother Doake had departed for good—was, in fact, dead! “Yes, she were run over by a motor-trolley ten days ago,” announced the woman in the next stall; “she was terribly old and blind and a real wicked miser. There was no one belonging to her. Her clothes were just lined with bank-notes, and there was a whole lot of papers and bonds in her mattress, and a lovely silver tea-set up the chimney. She grudged herself a penn-’orth o’ milk, or a drop o’ brandy, and she worth thousands o’ pounds! Being no heirs, the Crown takes the lot! Thank you, sir,” accepting a tip, “I suppose I could not tempt you with a splendid fur-lined overcoat? Cost a hundred—but you can have it for six. It belonged to a lord—I got it off his man. Well, maybe it’s a bit warmish, but it’s dirt cheap and would come in next winter.” Since Mother Doake was now defunct, her share divided gave Douglas another fifty pounds, and he felt quite a wealthy man. The first use he made of the monster’s money was to take his father’s watch and chain out of pawn; the next, to secure his passage in the Bibby Line to Rangoon. Then he spent a long morning at the Stores and bought a new outfit, saddle and bridle, steamer trunks, and a steamer chair. The purchase of the “Kang He” piece and its price were naturally not withheld from Mrs. Shafto. She pounced upon Douglas in the hall and drove him before her into the empty dining-room. “Well, I’ve heard all about your wonderful luck!” she began excitedly, “and how Mr. Levison has actually paid you three hundred pounds for that frightful figure.” “Yes, so he did; it’s a true bill.” “And now, my dear boy; you will be able to help me with my trousseau,” said this daughter of a horse-leech, “I must really get good frocks. Mr. L. is so sharp, and notices everything, and can tell the price of a gown to a sixpence; he has wonderful taste, and is very particular. You must let me have fifty or sixty to begin with—it’s not much out of three hundred pounds. What a windfall!” “Oh, but I have already divided it with Mrs. Malone,” replied Douglas; “she insisted upon my taking half—you see, the figure was hers.” “Divided it with Mrs. Malone!” screamed his mother. “What a mean, grasping, greedy old hag! I shall speak to her about it and make her disgorge. She has no right to your money; whilst I am your mother!”