that con-fined, or as you might say, con-fused, I don’t know which legs is mine, or yourn, or anybody else’s.  Mr. Grimes sir,—­I makes so bold as to ax your pardon all over again, sir.”  During which speech, Adam contrived, once more, to fall against, to tread upon, and to jostle the highly incensed Mr. Grimes back into the crowd again.  Thereafter he became a Nemesis to Mr. Grimes, haunting him through the jungle of chairs, and tables, pursuing him into distant corners, and shady places, where, so sure as the sausage-like finger poised itself for an interrogatory poke, or the fat, red fist doubled itself for a spring-testing punch, the innocent-seeming Adam would thereupon fall against him from the rear, sideways, or in front.

Meanwhile, Bellew sat in his secluded corner, watching the crowd through the blue wreaths of his pipe, but thinking of her who, brave though she was, had nevertheless run away from it all at the last moment.  Presently, however, he was aware that the Corn-chandler had seated himself on the other side of the chiffonier, puffing, and panting with heat, and indignation,—­where he was presently joined by another individual,—­a small, rat-eyed man, who bid Mr. Grimes a deferential “Good-day!”

“That there Adam,” puffed the Corn-chandler, “that there Adam ought to be throwed out into the stables where he belongs.  I never see a man as was so much growed to feet and elbers, in all my days!  He ought to be took,” repeated the Corn-chandler, “and shook, and throwed out into the yard.”

“Yes,” nodded the other, “took, and shook, and throwed out—­neck, and crop, sir!  And now,—­what might you think o’ the furniture, Mr. Grimes?”

“So so, Parsons,” nodded Grimes, “so so!”

“Shall you buy?”

“I am a-going,” said the Corn-chandler with much deliberation, “I am a-going to take them tapestry cheers, sir, likewise the grand-feyther clock in the corner here, likewise the four-post bed-stead wi’ the carved ’ead-board,—­and—­most particular, Parsons, I shall take this here side-board.  There ain’t another piece like this in the county, as I know of,—­solid ma-hogany, sir!—­and the carvings!” and herewith, he gave two loud double knocks upon the article of furniture in question.  “Oh!  I’ve ’ad my eye on this side-board for years, and years,—­knowed I’d get it some day, too,—­the only wonder is as she ain’t had to sell up afore now.”

“Meaning Miss Anthea, sir?”

“Ah,—­her!  I say as it’s a wonder to me,—­wo’t wi’ the interest on the mortgage I ’old on the place, and one thing and another,—­it’s a wonder to me as she’s kept her ’ead above water so long.  But—­mark me, Parsons, mark me,—­she’ll be selling again soon, and next time it’ll be lock, stock, and barrel, Parsons!”

“Well, I don’t ‘old wi’ women farmers, myself!” nodded Parsons.  “But,—­as to that cup-board over there,—­Sheraton, I think,—­what might you suppose it to be worth,—­betwixt friends, now?” enquired Parsons, the rat eyed.