“The chance came in this way.  One Sunday morning I went by myself to Hampstead, and as I was wandering about on the Heath I kicked against something.  It was a cash-box, which I saw couldn’t have been lying there very long.  I found it had been broken open, and inside it were a lot of letters—­old letters in envelopes; nothing else.  The addresses on the envelopes were all the same—­to a gentleman living at Hampstead.  I thought the best I could do was to go and inquire for this address; and I found it, and rang the door-bell.  When I told the servant what I wanted—­it was a large house—­she asked me to come in, and after I had waited a little she took me into a library, where a gentleman was sitting.  I had to answer a good many questions, and the man talked rather gruffly to me.  When he had made a note of my name and where I lived, he said that I should hear from him, and so I went away.  Of course I hoped to have a reward, but for two or three days I heard nothing; then, when I was at business, someone asked to see me—­a man I didn’t know.  He said he had come from Mr. So and So, the gentleman at Hampstead, and had brought something for me—­four five-pound notes.  The cash-box had been stolen by someone, with other things, the night before I found it, and the letters in it, which disappointed the thief, had a great value for their owner.  All sorts of inquiries had been made about me and no doubt I very nearly got into the hands of the police, but it was all right, and I had twenty pounds reward.  Think! twenty pounds!”

Hilliard nodded.

“I told no one about it—­not even Patty.  And I put the money into the Post Office savings bank.  I meant it to stay there till I might be in need; but I thought of it day and night.  And only a fortnight after, my employers shut up their place of business, and I had nothing to do.  All one night I lay awake, and when I got up in the morning I felt as if I was no longer my old self.  I saw everything in a different way—­felt altogether changed.  I had made up my mind not to look for a new place, but to take my money out of the Post Office—­I had more than twenty-five pounds there altogether—­and spend it for my pleasure.  It was just as if something had enraged me, and I was bent on avenging myself.  All that day I walked about the town, looking at shops, and thinking what I should like to buy:  but I only spent a shilling or two, for meals.  The next day I bought some new clothing.  The day after that I took Patty to the theatre, and astonished her by my extravagance; but I gave her no explanation, and to this day she doesn’t understand how I got my money.  In a sort of way, I did enjoy myself.  For one thing, I took a subscription at Mudie’s, and began to read once more.  You can’t think how it pleased me to get my books—­new books—­where rich people do.  I changed a volume about every other day—­I had so many hours I didn’t know what to do with.  Patty was the only friend I had made, so I took her about with me whenever she could get away in the evening.”