Abe Bricknell had gone, taking with him the five
five-pound notes. So far so good, and cheap at the price. But the
skivet was empty: and the day was Saturday: and every Saturday
evening, as regularly as he wound up the big eight-day clock in the
kitchen, Naomi and he would sit down and count over the money. True he
had only to go to St. Austell and Messrs. Climo and Hodges would let
him draw five new notes. The numbers would be different, and Naomi
(prudent woman) always took note of the numbers: but some explanation
might be invented. The problem was: How to get to St. Austell and back
before Naomi's return? The distance was too great to be walked in
the time; and besides, the coffin must be ready by nightfall. He had
promised it; he was known for a man of his word; and owing to the
morning's interruption it would be a tough job to finish, at the
best. There was no help for it; and--so easy is the descent of
Avernus--Geake's unaccustomed wits were already wandering in a
wilderness of improbable falsehoods, when he heard the sound of wheels
up the road, and Long Oliver came along in Farmer Lear's red-wheeled
trap and behind Farmer Lear's dun-coloured mare.
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