brackets for sale, kept up a miscellaneous
concert of hours from one o'clock to twelve
—for they were not by any means particular
in their notions either of time or tune;
but, as a majority of them seemed to be of
opinion it was getting near midnight, the con-
templative proprietor lighted one more pipe,
poured forth one other libation, and carefully
locked away the now half empty bottle in
the sanctum devoted to its custody.

He watched once more the curls of the smoke;
but fancy was at work, and aided the wreaths
as they rose, twisting them into excellent
chests of drawers, or handsome mahogany
sideboards, on which he expected enormous
profits; into little cottages they expanded
themselves, which he felt sure he could buy
for very little money; then, as the candle
began to burn less clearly, he saw one of the
large puffs, which he traced with more than
usual attention, convert itself into a bed in a
dingy little apartment, and through the half-drawn
curtains he saw the emaciated countenance
of a dying man. The fire uttered a
little sound at this moment, as the coals collapsed
to the bottom of the grate, and he
thought the noise it made formed itself into
words from the old man's lips: " I lent him
the money, George -- two hundred and thirty
pounds. I have lost the note of hand; but if
he doesn't pay it he is a villain, and will
repent it when the hour comes on him as it
does on me now."

"Nonsense! folly! madness! " cried Mr.
Benson, pushing back his chair, and hurrying
the tumbler to his lips. " Would the
man have me give money to every person
that chose to say that he had lent it, with
nothing to shew for it but a white-faced
dying old —-- Ha! — a carriage at my door at
this hour!—a knocking! —who can it be? Some
one in distress come to arrange about pawning
the family plate; a countess, perhaps, to
pledge the family jewels —coming, coming!"
He opened the door and peeped out through
the falling rain. A carriage, covered with mud
and dripping with wet, was at the kerb-stone.
The driver let down the steps and a lady
tript lightly across the sloppy pavement and
entered the shop. " The carriage will wait,"
she said; " turn the key and double lock -- for I
have something of importance to say to you."
Mr. Benson said nothing, but went up the
narrow gangway with the flickering candle in
his hand, followed by his visitor. He set down
the light, and looked carefully into the
woman's face. It was flushed and excited;
the eyes flashed with great brilliancy, and her
lips quivered with agitation -- a tall masculine
woman, plainly dressed, and evidently under
the influence of some strong feeling.

"You are Mr. Benson, the pawnbroker?"
she said.

"I am; and dealer in second-hand furniture,
books, statues, and miscellaneous
articles, clocks, watches, wearing apparel,
and double-barrel guns."

"You attended the sale at Farmer Merri-
wood's last Wednesday?"

"I did."

"Did you buy it?"

"What?"

"I forgot. I haven't told you. I won't tell
you. What did you pay for all the articles
you bought at Cecil Green, at Farmer
Merriwood's."

"I got tolerable bargains, ma'am; I don't
deny that -- the family all dispersed —no near
relations. I paid for all I had there a
matter of fifteen, or, perhaps, twenty pounds."

"Will you make me out a list of them?
—transfer them at once to me?—and I will
give you two hundred across the table."

Mr. Benson looked at the woman as she
spoke.

"No, madam," he said, " two hundred's too
little. If it's worth two hundred to you, it's
worth a deal more to me."

"We won't fight about that. What did you
buy? -- beds? sofas? drawers? —let me see
the list."

He took from a wire that hung from
the cross-bar of his desk the auctioneer's
account.

The woman gazed at it; and on coming
near the end started. " Yes," she said," here
it is. What do you ask for all? But tush!
I want nothing but one small article. Keep
the rest of the trash. Give me the oak wardrobe
with the four drawers in it, and I will
give you what you demand. Come!"

"I can't," said Mr. Benson, turning pale,
and trembling with agitation. " It's gone —
sold -- delivered —lost."

"Fool!" cried the woman. "You have
ruined me and yourself. That wardrobe would
have enriched us both. Why did the villains
not advertise the sale? I would have come
to it if I had been dying. Can you recover it?
Who bought it? Will money tempt them to
sell it again? Tell me the name of the
purchaser, and I will get possession of it
yet."

"I don't remember the name of the person.
I think it was a clergyman's wife from
Ipswich—or, no. I think it was a Liverpool
gentleman who was going out to America;
but if he's not sailed it might be possible —I
don't say it would—to recover the furniture
still."

"Give me his address. I will go to Liverpool
myself—to America —anywhere."

"It may, perhaps, be got back without so
much trouble," said Mr. Benson, after a
pause. " But why are you so very curious
about a common chest of drawers? I examined
it very carefully, I assure you; they
are nothing but ordinary oak — no secret recesses
—no hidden springs; there's surely
some mistake about it."

"There's no mistake. Did you take out the
drawers when you made your examination?
Did you turn the top one upside down? Did
you see that the bottom was thick and heavy,