Goodfellow here had crossed to Falmouth and was back
again, bringing the cupboard--"
"Yes, Jack; you have done very well--surprisingly well. But I'll not
hand over my guinea until we've examined the cupboard. Here, Mr.
Goodfellow"--she cleared a space amid the breakfast things--"be so
good as to lift it on to the table. Harry, where's the key?"
I produced it.
"A nice bit of work--and Dutch, by the look of it," she commented,
pausing to admire the inlaid pattern as she inserted the key.
She turned it, and the door fell back, askew on its broken hinges.
Mr. Goodfellow had carried the cupboard with infinite care, but the
contents, I need not say, had mixed themselves up in wild disorder,
though nothing was broken--not even the pot of guava-jelly.
They included a superannuated watch in a loose silver case, a medal
(in bronze) struck to commemorate Lord Howe's famous victory of the
First of June, two pieces-of-eight and a spade guinea (much clipped);
a small china mug painted with libellous portraits of King George
III. and his consort; a printed pamphlet on Admiral Byng; two strings
of shells; a mourning-ring with a lock of hair set between two pearls
under glass; another ring with a tiny picture of a fountain and urn,
and a weeping willow; a paper containing a baby's caul and a sampler
worked with the A.
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