Uncle Glegg involuntarily shook his head, and looked more concerned than ever, but Tom said firmly,

`Youll have to take care of em both, if I die, you know, Tom. Youll be badly off, I doubt. But you must see and pay everybody. And mind - theres fifty pound o Lukes as I put into the business, he gave it me a bit at a time and hes got nothing to show for it. You must pay him first thing.

Mr Glegg had lifted out the parchments and had fortunately drawn back a little, when the iron holder gave way, and the heavy lid fell with a loud bang that resounded over the house.

`Ay, ay: poor Bessy! and his eyes turned towards Tom as Maggie left the room.

`Ah! Im glad you thought o that my lad, said Mr Tulliver. `I allays meant to be easy about that money, because o your aunt. You mustnt mind losing the money, if they cant pay it - and its like enough they cant. The notes in that box, mind! I allays meant to be good to you, Gritty, said Mr Tulliver, turning to his sister, `but, you know, you aggravated me when you would have Moss.

MR TULLIVER, even between the fits of spasmodic rigidity which had recurred at intervals ever since he had been found fallen from his horse, was usually in so apathetic a condition that the exits and entrances into his room were not felt to be of great importance. He ha９９ｌｉb•nｅtd lain so still, with his eyes closed, all this morning, that Maggie told her aunt Moss she must not expect her father to take any notice of them. They entered very quietly, and Mrs Moss took her seat near the head of the bed, while Maggie sat in her old place on the bed, and put her hand on her fathers, without causing any change in his face.

Mr Tulliver was getting excited, and an alarming flush was on his face. Mr Glegg wanted to say something soothing, but he was prevented by Mr Tullivers speaking again to his wife. `Theyll make a shift to pay everything, Bessy, he said, `and yet leave you your furniture; and your sistersll do something for you... and Tomll grow up... though what hes to be I dont know... Ive done what I could... Ive given him a eddication... and theres the little wench, shell get married... but its a poor tale...

The sanative effect of the strong vibration was exhausted, and with the last words, the poor man fell again rigid and insensible. Though this was only a recurrence of what had happened before, it struck all present as if it had been death, not only from its contrast with the completeness of the revival, but because his words had all had reference to the possibility that his death was near. But with poor Tulliver, death was not to be a le九九藏书网ap: it was to be a long descent under thickening shadows.

Mr Tulliver fixed his eyes on the bed clothes, and remained silent for two or three minutes. A new shadow came over his face. He looked up at Maggie first, and said in a lower tone, `You got the letter, then, my wench?

Mr Tulliver looked round him meditatively - at Tom, at Mr Glegg and at Maggie; then suddenly appearing aware that some one was seated by his side at the head of the bed, he turned sharply round and saw his sister.

Mr Glegg and Tom had also entered, treading softly, and were busy selecting the key of the old oak chest from the bunch which Tom had brought from his fathers bureau. They succeeded in opening the chest - which stood opposite the foot of Mr Tullivers bed - and propping the lid with the iron holder, without much noise.

`Yes, father. And havent you a note from my uncle Moss for three hundred pounds? We came to look for that. What do you wish to be done about it, father?

`Eh, Gritty! he said in the half-sad, affectionate tone in which he had been wont to speak to her, `what, youre there, are you? How could you manage to leave the children?

But Tom was clear upon two points - that his uncle Mosss note must be destroyed, and that Lukes money must be paid, if in no other way, out of his own and Maggies九*九*藏*书*网 money now in the savings bank. There were subjects, you perceive, on which Tom was much quicker than on the niceties of classical construction, or the relations of a mathematical demonstration.

`What are you going to do with those deeds? he said, in his ordinary tone of sharp questioning whenever he was irritated. `Come here, Tom. What do you do, going to my chest?

`O, brother! said good Mrs Moss, too impulsive to be prudent, `Im thankful Im come now to see you yourself again - I thought youd never know us any more.

Perhaps there was something in that sound more than the mere fact of the strong vibration that produced the instantaneous effect on the frame of the prostrate man, and for the time completely shook off the obstruction of paralysis. The chest had belonged to his father and his fathers father, and it had always been rather a solemn business to visit it. All long-known objects, even a mere window-fastening or a particular door latch, have sounds which are a sort of recognised voice to us - a voice that will thrill and awaken when it has been used to touch deep-lying fibres. In the same moment when all the eyes in the room were turned upon him, he started up and looked at the chest, the parchments in Mr Gleggs hand, and Tom holding the tin box, with a glance of perfect co九九藏书网nsciousness and recognition.

`Yes, father, she said, kissing him with a full heart. She felt as if her father were come back to her from the dead, and her yearning to show him how she had always loved him could be fulfilled.

At this moment Maggie re-entered with her mother who came in much agitated by the news that her husband was quite himself again.

`A fall from your horse - shook you a bit - thats all, I think, said Mr Glegg. `But youll soon get over it, lets hope.

`Well, Bessy, he said, as she kissed him, `you must forgive me if youre worse off than you ever expected to be. But its the fault o the law - its none o mine, he added, angrily. `Its the fault o raskills! Tom - you mind this - if ever youve got the chance, you make Wakem smart. If you dont, youre a good-for-nothing son. You might horsewhip him - but hed set the law on you - the laws made to take care o raskills.

Tom obeyed, with some trembling: it was the first time his father had recognised him. But instead of saying anything more to him, his father continued to look with a growing distinctness of suspicion at Mr Glegg and the deeds.

`Whats been happening then? he said, sharply. `What are you meddling with my deeds for? Is Wakem laying hold of everything?... Why dont you tell me what youve been a-doing? he added, impatientl九_九_藏_书_网y, as Mr Glegg advanced to the foot of the bed before speaking.

Among the threads of the past which the stricken man had gathered up, he had omitted the bill of sale: the flash of memory had only lit up prominent ideas, and he sank into forgetfulness again with half his humiliation unlearned.

`Theres a tin box, whispered Mr Glegg, `hed most like put a small thing like a note in there. Lift it out, Tom; but Ill just lift up these deeds - theyre the deeds o the house and mill, I suppose - and see what there is under em.

A Vanishing Gleam

`Shes downstairs with my aunts, father: shall I fetch her?

`What, have I had a stroke? said Mr Tulliver, anxiously, looking at Mr Glegg.

`No, no, friend Tulliver, said Mr Glegg, in a soothing tone. `Nobodys getting hold of anything as yet. We only came to look and see what was in the chest. Youve been ill, you know, and weve had to look after things a bit. But lets hope youll soon be well enough to attend to everything yourself.

`Wheres your mother? he said, so preoccupied that he received the kiss as passively as some quiet animal might have received it.

Mr Turnbull was sent for, but when he heard what had passed, he said this complete restoration, though only temporary, was a hopeful sign, proving that there was no permanent lesion to prevent ultimate recovery.