Having examined the coin to assure himself that he was not mistaken, he was glancing carelessly over the papers, when his eye fell on a name which attracted his attention. He eagerly read through the paper, and then looked for another and another. A deep frown settled on his brow, while a look of satisfaction kindled in his eye. "If Satan himself had been asked to do my command, he could not please me better than this," he exclaimed. "I can now more amply than I had expected accomplish the design I have for years waited for. And while I enrich myself, I shall without risk humble those I have good reason to hate." He was now lost in thought, now again glancing over the papers. "They and the other things will be safer here, where they have lain so long, than in the house which may get burned down through some drunken spree by the fellows I have to harbour. But the coin may as well go into my pockets at once," he said to himself, as he put back the desk with its contents in the chest. Having replaced the tray, he brought some straw from another part of the vault, and threw in a sufficient quantity to conceal it should by any chance the chest be opened by any one else. "This will make it be supposed that there is nothing below," he said to himself, as he closed the lid and locked it. At length leaving the vault, he returned to his chamber. His companions' revels had ceased, and now loud snores only came from the room where they were sleeping. He threw himself on his bed, but his busy brain was too hard at work to allow him to sleep. CHAPTER TWENTY TWO. MILES GAFFIN, JUNIOR. Miles Gaffin lay on his bed turning over in his thoughts the information he had obtained, and considering how he could gain the most advantage from it. Returning to the table, he sat down to write. He was a man of decision. With him to propose was to act. "My son Myles," he wrote, for it was not his wont to use terms of endearment, "you are to come here at once. Tell Mr Crotch so from me; you need not say more to him. I want you to make your fortune by a way to which you will not object marrying a young and pretty wife. When you come you shall know more about the matter. Get a good rig out, so as to appear to advantage. Wait at the Texford Arms, where I will meet you, but don't come to the mill. From your father, Miles Gaffin." The letter was speedily sealed and directed, and sent off the next morning to the post by one of his companions, who, by that time, was sufficiently sober to undertake the errand.