“I’ll show these rogues that I’m an honest woman,” said my mother.  “I’ll have my dues, and not a farthing over.  Hold Mrs. Crossley’s bag.”  And she began to count over the amount of the captain’s score from the sailor’s bag into the one that I was holding.

It was a long, difficult business, for the coins were of all countries and sizes—­doubloons, and louis d’ors, and guineas, and pieces of eight, and I know not what besides, all shaken together at random.  The guineas, too, were about the scarcest, and it was with these only that my mother knew how to make her count.

When we were about half-way through, I suddenly put my hand upon her arm, for I had heard in the silent frosty air a sound that brought my heart into my mouth—­the tap-tapping of the blind man’s stick upon the frozen road.  It drew nearer and nearer, while we sat holding our breath.  Then it struck sharp on the inn door, and then we could hear the handle being turned and the bolt rattling as the wretched being tried to enter; and then there was a long time of silence both within and without.  At last the tapping recommenced, and, to our indescribable joy and gratitude, died slowly away again until it ceased to be heard.

“Mother,” said I, “take the whole and let’s be going,” for I was sure the bolted door must have seemed suspicious and would bring the whole hornet’s nest about our ears, though how thankful I was that I had bolted it, none could tell who had never met that terrible blind man.

But my mother, frightened as she was, would not consent to take a fraction more than was due to her and was obstinately unwilling to be content with less.  It was not yet seven, she said, by a long way; she knew her rights and she would have them; and she was still arguing with me when a little low whistle sounded a good way off upon the hill.  That was enough, and more than enough, for both of us.

“I’ll take what I have,” she said, jumping to her feet.

“And I’ll take this to square the count,” said I, picking up the oilskin packet.

Next moment we were both groping downstairs, leaving the candle by the empty chest; and the next we had opened the door and were in full retreat.  We had not started a moment too soon.  The fog was rapidly dispersing; already the moon shone quite clear on the high ground on either side; and it was only in the exact bottom of the dell and round the tavern door that a thin veil still hung unbroken to conceal the first steps of our escape.  Far less than half-way to the hamlet, very little beyond the bottom of the hill, we must come forth into the moonlight.  Nor was this all, for the sound of several footsteps running came already to our ears, and as we looked back in their direction, a light tossing to and fro and still rapidly advancing showed that one of the newcomers carried a lantern.

“My dear,” said my mother suddenly, “take the money and run on.  I am going to faint.”