"Let it be!" cried Silas. "I shall want nothing from it while I
stay here."
"You might have let it lie in the hall, then," growled the man; "a
thing as big and heavy as a church. What you have inside I cannot
fancy. If it is all money, you are a richer man than me."
"Money?" repeated Silas, in a sudden perturbation. "What do you
mean by money? I have no money, and you are speaking like a fool."
"All right, captain," retorted the boots with a wink. "There's
nobody will touch your lordship's money. I'm as safe as the bank,"
he added; "but as the box is heavy, I shouldn't mind drinking
something to your lordship's health."
Silas pressed two Napoleons upon his acceptance, apologising, at
the same time, for being obliged to trouble him with foreign money,
and pleading his recent arrival for excuse. And the man, grumbling
with even greater fervour, and looking contemptuously from the
money in his hand to the Saratoga trunk and back again from the one
to the other, at last consented to withdraw.
For nearly two days the dead body had been packed into Silas's box;
and as soon as he was alone the unfortunate New-Englander nosed all
the cracks and openings with the most passionate attention. But
the weather was cool, and the trunk still managed to contain his
shocking secret.
He took a chair beside it, and buried his face in his hands, and
his mind in the most profound reflection.
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