Also any man, who looks ahead, will fight for the pension which alone
stands between him and the workhouse.

With such arguments Nicky-Nan had salved his conscience; and his
conscience had slept under them.

Now in a moment, with eyes fixed on the fatal handwriting, he saw
every bandage of false pretence, all his unguents of conscience,
stripped away, laying his guilt bare to the world.

An enemy was on his track--one who knew and could call up fatal
evidence.

The light in the window-pane had been growing darker for some
minutes. The morning had broken squally, with intervals of sunshine.
A fierce gust came howling up the little river between its leaning
houses and broke in rain upon the bottle-glass quarrels of the
window.

Nicky-Nan started, as though it were a hand arresting him.



CHAPTER VI.


TREASURE TROVE.