“Happiness,” said he, speaking his thought aloud, “’Happiness shall come riding astride the full moon!’ Now—­I wonder!”

CHAPTER XXVII

In which is verified the adage of the cup and the lip.

Now as he sat thus, plunged in thought, he heard the voice of one who approached intoning a familiar chant, or refrain,—­the voice was harsh, albeit not unmusical, and the words of the chant were these: 

  “When I am dead, diddle diddle, as well may hap,
   Bury me deep, diddle diddle, under the tap,
   Under the tap, diddle diddle, I’ll tell you—­”

“Lord!” exclaimed the singer, breaking off suddenly, “be that you, Mr. Belloo, sir?”

“Yea, in good sooth, Adam, the very same,—­but you sing, Adam?”

“Ah!—­I sing, Mr. Belloo, sir, an’ if you ax me why, then I tell you because I be ‘appy-’earted an’ full o’ j-o-y, j’y, sir.  The mortgage be paid off at last, Mr. Belloo, sir,—­Miss Anthea be out o’ debt,—­free, sir,—­an’ all along o’ Master Georgy, God bless him!”

“Oh!” said Bellew, “—­er—­that’s good!”

“Good!” exclaimed Adam, “Ah, Mr. Belloo sir! it be more than good,—­it’s saved Miss Anthea’s home for her, and—­betwixt you an’ me, sir,—­I think it’s saved her too.  An’ it be all along o’ that Master Georgy!  Lord sir! many’s the time as I’ve watched that theer blessed b’y a-seekin’, an’ a-searchin’, a pokin’ an’ a pryin’ round the place a-lookin’ for ’is fortun’,—­but, Lord bless my eyes an’ limbs, sir!—­I never thought as he’d find nothin’.”

“Why, of course not, Adam.”

“Ah!—­but that’s jest where I were mistook, Mr. Belloo, sir,—­because ’e did.”

“Did what, Adam?”

“Found the fortun’ as he were always a-lookin’ for,—­a sack o’ golden soverings, sir, an’ bank-notes, Mr. Belloo, sir,—­bushels on ’em; enough—­ah! more ’n enough to pay off that mortgage, and to send that theer old Grimes about his business,—­an’ away from Dapplemere for good an’ all, sir.”

“So Grimes is really paid off, then, is he, Adam?”

“I done it myself, sir,—­wi’ these here two ’ands,—­Three thousand pound I counted over to him, an’ five hundred more—­in banknotes, sir, while Miss Anthea sat by like one in a dream.  Altogether there were five thousand pound as that blessed b’y dug up out o’ the orchard—­done up all in a pertater sack, under this very i-dentical tree as you’m a set-tin’ under Mr. Belloo sir.  E’cod, I be half minded to take a shovel and have a try at fortun’-huntin’ myself,—­only there ain’t much chance o’ findin’ another, hereabouts; besides—­that b’y prayed for that fortun’, ah! long, an’ hard he prayed, Mr. Belloo sir, an’—­’twixt you an’ me, sir, I ain’t been much of a pray-er myself since my old mother died.  Anyhow, the mortgage be paid off, sir, Miss Anthea’s free, an’ ‘tis joy’ful, an’ ‘appy-’earted I be this night.  Prudence an’ me’ll be gettin’ married soon now,—­an’ when I think of her cookin’—­Lord, Mr. Belloo sir!—­All as I say is God bless Master Georgy!  Good-night, sir! an’ may your dreams be as ‘appy as mine,—­always supposin’ I do dream, —­which is seldom.  Good-night, sir!”