"Ah!that's a lot o'money,"said Mrs Yabsley,raking the ashes from under the copper."Wait till this water boils,an'we'll talk things over."Ada returned to her novelette.Ray,sitting upright with an effort,gurgled with pleasure to see his father.Jonah tilted him on his back,and tickled his fat legs,pretending to worry him like a dog.The pair made a tremendous noise.
"Oh,gi'the kid a bit o'peace!"cried Ada,angry at being disturbed.
"Yous git round,an''elp Mum wi'the clothes,"snapped Jonah.
"Me?No fear!"cried Ada,with a malicious grin."I didn't knock off work to carry bricks.Yous married me,an'yer got ter keep me."Jonah looked at her with a scowl.She knew quite well that he had married her for the child's sake alone.A savage retort was on his tongue,but Mrs Yabsley stepped in.
"Well,Joe,now I see yer dead set on earnin'a livin',I don't mind tellin'yer I've got somethin'up me sleeve.No,I don't mean a guinea-pig an'a dozen eggs,like the conjurer bloke I see once,"she explained in reply to his surprised look;"but if yer the man I take yer for,we'll soon 'ave the pot a-boiling.Many's the weary night I've spent in bed thinkin'about you w'en I might 'ave bin snorin'.That reminds me.
Did y'ever notice yer can niver tell exactly w'en yer drop off?I've tried all I know,but ye're awake one minit,an'chasin'a butterfly wi'a cow's 'ead the next.But that ain't wot I'm a-talkin'about.Paasch 'e's blue mouldy,an'couldn't catch a snail unless yer give 'im a start;an'if yer went ter Packard's,yer'd tell the manager ter go to 'ell,an'git fired out the first week.Yous must be yer own boss,Joe.I've studied yer like a book,an yer nose wasn't made that shape for nuthin'.""W'y,wot's wrong wi'it?"laughed Jonah,feeling his nose with its powerful,predatory curve.
"Nuthin',if yer listen to me.'Ave yer got pluck enough ter start on yer own?"she inquired,suddenly.
"Wot's the use,w'en I've got no beans?"replied Jonah.
"I'll find the beans,an'yer can go an'buy Bob Watkins's shop out as it stands,"said Mrs Yabsley,proudly.
"Fair dinkum!"cried Jonah,in amazement.
Ada put down her novelette and stared,astonished at the turn of the conversation.It flashed through her mind that her mother had some mysterious habits.Suppose she were like the misers she had read of in books,who lived in the gutter,and owned terraces of houses?For a moment Ada saw herself riding in a carriage,with rings on every finger,and feathers in her hat,with the childlike faith of the ignorant in the marvellous.
But Mrs Yabsley was studying some strange hieroglyphics like Chinese,pencilled on the cupboard.She knitted her brows in the agony of calculation.
"I can lay me 'ands on thirty pounds in solid cash,"she announced.She spoke as if it were a million.Jonah cried out in amazement;Ada felt disappointed.
"W'ere is it,Mum?In the bank?"asked Jonah.
"No fear,"said Mrs Yabsley,with a crafty smile."It's as safe as a church.I was niver fool enough ter put my money in the bank.I know all about them.Yer put yer money in fer years,an'then,w'en they've got enough,they shut the door,an'the old bloke wi'the white weskit an'gold winkers cops the lot.No banks fer me,thank yer!"Then she explained that ever since she opened the laundry,she had squeezed something out of her earnings as one squeezes blood out of a stone.She had saved threepence this week,sixpence that,sometimes even a shilling went into the child's money-box that she had chosen as a safe deposit.When the coins mounted to a sovereign,she had changed them into a gold piece.Then,her mind disturbed by visions of thieves bent on plunder,she had hit on a plan.A floorboard was loose in the kitchen.
She had levered this up,and probed with a stick till she touched solid earth.Then the yellow coin,rolled carefully in a ball of paper,was dropped into the hole.And for years she had added to her unseen treasure,dropping her precious coins into that dark hole with more security than a man deposits thousands in the bank.But the time was come to unearth the golden pile.
She trembled with excitement when Jonah ripped up the narrow plank with the poker.Then he thrust his arm down till he touched the soft earth.
He seemed a long time groping,and Mrs Yabsley wondered at the delay.
At last he sat up,with a perplexed look.
"I can't feel nuthin',"he said."Are yez sure this is the place?""Of course it is,"said Mrs Yabsley,sharply."I dropped them down right opposite the 'ead of that nail."Jonah groped again without success.
"'Ere,let me try,"said Mum,impatiently.
She knelt over the hole to get her bearings,and then plunged her arm into the gap.Jonah and Ada,on their knees,watched in silence.
At last,with a cry of despair,Mrs Yabsley sat up on the floor.
There was no doubt,the treasure was gone!In this extremity,her wit,her philosophy,her temper,her very breath deserted her,and she wept.
She looked the picture of misery as the tears rolled down her face.
Jonah and Ada stared at one another in dismay,each wondering if this story of a hidden treasure was a delusion of the old woman's mind.Like her neighbours,who lived from hand to mouth,she was given to dreaming of imaginary riches falling on her from the clouds.But her grief was too real for doubt.
"Well,if it ain't there,w'ere is it?"cried Jonah,angrily,feeling that he,too,had been robbed."If it's gone,somebody took it.Are yer sure yer niver got a few beers in,an'started skitin'about it?"He looked hard at Ada.
"Niver a word about it 'ave I breathed to a livin'soul till this day,"wailed Mrs Yabsley,mopping her eyes with her apron.
"Rye buck!"said Jonah."'Ere goes!I'll find it,if the blimey house falls down.Gimme that axe."The floor-boards cracked and split as he ripped them up.Small beetles and insects,surprised by the light,scrambled with desperate haste into safety.A faint,earthy smell rose from the foundations.Suddenly,with a yell of triumph,Jonah stooped,and picked up a dirty ball of paper.
