212 NOVEMBER 



him there's a treasure there all for him to seek for 

 to work for " And then he died. 



I know the whole story, for Nancy Bidstraw told 

 it to me. 



Meshach could not enter upon his inheritance 

 because the cottage was let to Mrs. Bidstraw on a 

 yearly tenancy. But he hankered after the treasure 

 and felt sure that he knew the spot where it was 

 buried. Everyone who has a treasure to hide 

 buries it under a tree. The apple tree was the only 

 tree in the garden worthy of the name, and beneath 

 it the treasure was buried. Meshach could not get 

 possession of the property, but he could look at the 

 place where his treasure lay. 



He strode across the fence one evening and 

 knocked at Mrs. Bidstraw's door. It was opened 

 by Nancy. 



"Good evening, Meshach," said Nancy. 



Stupid Meshach did not detect the light that 

 came into her dark eyes when she saw him standing 

 on the door-sill, nor the faint blush which mounted 

 into her olive cheek. He was thinking only of his 

 inheritance, and not at all of Nancy. He had never 

 thought of Nancy, though they had lived next door 

 to each other all their lives. 



" Do you want to turn us out, Meshach ? " she 

 asked in pleading tones. 



" No," said Meshach. 



" Do you want to see mother? She's gone to 

 Oldborough." 



"No, I don't know as I do." 



" Is it me you want to see, then ? " asked Nancy, 

 smiling. 



