CHAPTER XXVII.
COUSIN MONTAGUE Mr.Shovelin went to a corner of the room, which might be called his signal-box, having a little row of port-holes like a toy frigate or accordion, and there he made sounds which brought steps very promptly, one clerk carrying a mighty ledger, and the other a small strong-box.
"No plate," Major Hockin whispered to me, shaking his gray crest with sorrow; "but there may be diamonds, you know, Erema.

One ounce of diamonds is worth a ton of plate." "No," said Mr.Shovelin, whose ears were very keen, "I fear that you will find nothing of mercantile value.

Thank you, Mr.Robinson; by-and-by perhaps we shall trouble you.

Strictly speaking, perhaps I should require the presence of your father's lawyer, or of some one producing probate, ere I open this box, Miss Castlewood.

But having you here, and Major Hockin, and knowing what I do about the matter (which is one of personal confidence), I will dispense with formalities.