in this chest “—­laying his hand on the weighty iron-bound box.  “Then he turned to me and said, ’Martin, I verily believe that thy sister is dead.  Something tells me that I shall see her before I see any of you.  The dead are ever forgiven.  Take this coffer and keep it for thy sister’s children, if she have had the misfortune to bring children into this world of sorrow.  Keep it for them till they be grown.  Let not their evil father know aught of it.  And even then be cautious.  Prove and see if they be worthy of wealth—­if they will make good use of it.  It is thine in trust for them.  Keep or withhold as thou thinkest right; but be honest and be true, so shall my blessing follow thee even after death.’  Those were amongst the last words he spoke.  I took the chest, and I have kept it until now.  I have thought often of it; but no word reached me of my sister, and time has failed me to seek her abroad.  I knew her children, if any lived, could but just have reached man or woman’s estate, and I have waited to see what would chance.

“Cuthbert Trevlyn, this chest and all it contains may one day be thine.  I give it not yet into thy keeping, for I must prove thee first; but I tell thee what is within it and what was thy grand sire’s charge, that thou mayest know I have no desire save to do what is right by thee and thy sister, and that I trust and hope the day may come when I may deliver the chest to thee, to divide with her the portion bequeathed to your hapless mother.”

Cuthbert’s astonishment was so great he hardly knew what to say.  For himself he cared but little.  He was a man, and could fight his own way in the world.  But those golden coins would make a dowry for his sister that many a high-born dame might envy.  A flush came into his cheek as he thought of Philip’s eager words overheard by him.  If Petronella was the mistress of a fair fortune, why should any forbid them to be wed?

Martin liked the lad none the less that his first thought was for his sister.  But for the present Petronella was beneath her father’s roof, and could not be benefited thereby.  Still, it would be something for Cuthbert to know, and to look forward to in the future, and therein he rejoiced.

The chest was carefully restored to its hiding place and securely locked away, and then the kindly uncle took from his own pocket a small purse and put it into the reluctant hands of the lad.

“Nay, nay, thou must not be proud, boy; though I like thee none the less for thy pride and thine independence of spirit.  But thou must not be penniless as thou goest about this city; and if one uncle gave thee gold, why not another?  So no more words about it.  Take it, and begone to thy chamber; for we are simple folks that keep early hours, and I am generally abed an hour ere this.”

So Cuthbert went to his queer little attic chamber beneath the high-pitched gable, with a mind confused yet happy, and limbs very weary with travel.  Yet sleep fell upon him almost before his head touched the pillow, for he had slept but brokenly since leaving his father’s house, and nature, in spite of all obstacles, was claiming her due at last.