about his soul, and had declined to see Mr Tucker on the subject.
To-night he had not snapped, and for the first hour or two he lay remarkably still, until at last Mary heard him rattling his bunch of keys against the tin box which he always kept in the bed beside him. About three o'clock he said, with remarkable distinctness, "Missy, come here!"
Mary obeyed, and found that he had already drawn the tin box from under the clothes, though he usually asked to have this done for him; and he had selected the key. He now unlocked the box, and, drawing from it another key, looked straight at her with eyes that seemed to have recovered all their sharpness and said, "How many of 'em are in the house?"
"You mean of your own relations, sir," said Mary, well used to the old man's way of speech. He nodded slightly and she went on.
"Mr Jonah Featherstone and young Cranch are sleeping here."
"Oh ay, they stick, do they? and the rest—they come every day, I'll warrant—Solomon and Jane, and all the young uns? They come peeping, and counting and casting up?"
"Not all of them every day. Mr Solomon and