SUSPICIONS. 63 



and exactly paid for her penurious provision gathered, and, 

 if possible, stole her sticks boiled her pot, and crept into 

 her bed. For all other purposes of use or intercourse her 

 mind was what people are accustomed to call "quite gone," 

 though, to judge from her continual mutterings by day and 

 moanings by night, it seemed still much to her discomfort 

 to hold within her some sort of uneasy presence. One day, 

 as if by accident, she entered Tim's chamber ; but the moment 

 he caught sight of her, he shrieked and was so strongly 

 agitated, that good care was taken in future to prevent a 

 repetition of her unwelcome visit. Often, however, in his 

 feverish ramblings did he address her, imploring her to give 

 him back a something she had taken from him, though she 

 might keep, he said, all the money, and he would never tell 

 his grandfather, nor yet Sir Timothy. 



These incoherent words, with others to a similar purport, 

 often repeated during our frequent visits to his bedside, first 

 awakened our suspicion that the orphan boy had been robbed 

 by his sordid old landlady. 



As Tirn slowly recovered the powers of his mind, he would 

 often use expressions of grateful regret at his inability to pay 

 anything for all that was being done for him. We, of course, 

 did our best to quiet him under this his honest distress ; but, 

 as connected therewith, we learnt the story of his lost treasure, 

 with its casket, the little Tomkins' Tomb ; also his reasons 

 for believing them in the dame's keeping; though of this he 



