"Do!" echoed the landlord, seizing a candle; "why, go and look for it,
to be sure, Mr. Basil. That's safe enough, you may be sure!"

I followed him to the room where the performance had taken place. It
showed darkly and drearily by the light of one feeble candle. The
benches and chairs were all in disorder. The wand lay where it had
fallen from the hand of the Wizard. The mortar still stood on the table,
with the pestle beside it. It contained only some fragments of
broken glass.

Mr. Cobbe laughed triumphantly.

"Come, sir," said he, "the watch is safe enough, anyhow. Mounseer only
made believe to pound it up, and now all that concerns us is to
find it."

That was indeed all--not only all, but too much. We searched everything.
We looked in all the jars and under all the moveables. We took the cover
off the chair; we cleared the table; but without success. My watch had
totally disappeared, and we at length decided that it must be concealed
about the conjuror's person. Mr. Cobbe was my consoling angel.

"Bless you, sir," said he, "don't never be cast down. My wife shall
look for the watch to-morrow morning, and I'll promise you we'll find
out every pocket he has about him."

"And my father--you won't tell my father?" I said, dolefully.

Mr. Cobbe replied by a mute but expressive piece of pantomime and took
me back to the bar, where the good landlady ratified all that her