384 THE HOME OF A NATURALIST. 



enough to scare even sheep and ponies from seeking 

 refuge in them. 



Gertson had stowed away in a hole of the wall a 

 small box with some matches and candles. After 

 procuring a light he went to a heap of stones carelessly 

 piled in a corner of the room, and, lifting some of the 

 blocks aside, disclosed a small vault. Stooping over 

 the opening he dived his arms into it, and drew out 

 two bags of money. They were not very small bags, 

 and were well filled. It cost him an effort to raise 

 them. Sitting down on the damp floor, with the candle 

 placed on a window-sill overhead, Gertson spread out 

 his hoard, and counted the shining coin slowly. One, 

 two, three, &c, &c., &c. He whispered the figures in 

 a tender tone like a mother counting the curly heads 

 of her sleeping darlings. He touched each one as a 

 girl touches the fingers of her lover as they stray over 

 her cheek and hair — lingeringly, lovingly. And as he 

 counted and caressed the money, he spread it on the 

 ground, where it shone with the subdued splendour 

 which belongs only to gold and silver. 



Having satisfied himself that no single coin was 

 wanting, Gertson arranged it in tiny heaps, the 

 sixpences by themselves, shillings, half-crowns, half- 

 sovereigns, sovereigns, ditto. Then each heap was 

 divided again. So many sixpences make so many 

 shillings ; so many shillings make so many pounds. 

 Oh, it was a " ploy " indeed to that sordid miser to 

 arrange and re-arrange his ill-gotten wealth ! 



After spending some time in this manner, Gertson 



