“Yes; that,” said an officer, producing a red silk handkerchief.

“Why, I gave him that,” said Mr. Henderson.  “It cost me 4s. 6d.; and it was that he had over his face when he robbed me of my hard-earned money!”

“It is true,” said Charles; “and sorry am I for the frolic, which my companions forced me into.”

“A frolic with five pounds at its credit,” said Mr. Henderson.  “Where is the money, sir?”

“Ah!  I know, dear uncle,” cried the watchful Jeannie, in a piercing treble of the clearest silver.

All eyes were turned on Jeannie.

“Then where is it, girl?”

“I saw him put it in his snuff-mull last night when he was at mother’s.”

“Examine your box, Mr. Henderson.”

The man growled, took out the box, and there was the five pounds.  He looked at Jeannie as if he would have devoured her with his nose at a single pinch.

“Was Mr. Henderson sober, Miss S——­th?”

“No.”

“Was he drunk?”

“No.  Only he couldn’t stand scarcely, though he could walk; and he called mother Jeannie, and me Peggy, and he said ’twas a shame in us to burn two candles at his expense, when one was enough.”

“Saved by a pinch,” cried Captain Stewart.

“Mr. Henderson,” said the fiscal, “the case is done, and would never have come here if your nose had happened last night to be as itchy as your hand.  The prisoner is discharged.”

And no sooner had the words been uttered than Jeannie flew to her brother, hung round his neck, kissed him, blubbered and played such antics that the fiscal could not refrain searching for his handkerchief.  He found it too; but just as if this article were no part of his official property, he returned it to his pocket; and then, as he saw Charles leaning on his mother’s breast, and making more noise with his heart and lungs than he could have done if he had been hanged, he resolved, after due deliberation, to let the “hanging drop” have its own way in sticking on the top of his cheek, and determined not to fall for all his jerking.

“BARBADOES, 15th July 18—.

“MY DEAREST LITTLE JEANNIE,—­I am at length settled the manager of a great sugar factory, with L400 a year.  Tell your mother I will write her by next post; and all I can say meantime is, that Messrs. Coutts and Co. will pay her L100 a year, half-yearly, till I return to keep you, for saving me from the gallows.  Accept the offer of the old man.  He is worth L500 a year; and you’re just the little winged spirit that will keep up a fire of life in a good heart only a little out of use.

“P.S.—­Tell uncle that I will send him five pounds of snuff, by next ship, in return for the five pounds I took out of his box on that eventful night, which was the beginning of my reformation.

“Tell Mrs. S——­k and Mrs. W——­pe that their sons arrived at Jamaica; but, poor fellows, they are both dead.