STORY TWO, CHAPTER TWO.
WHY EDWARD GUNNING LEFT.
It's curious how things get forgotten by busy people. In a few weeks Ileft off thinking about the hiding-place of all that golden plate; andafter a time I used to go into that first cellar for wine with myhalf-dozen basket in one hand, my cellar candlestick in the other, andnever once think about there being a farther cellar; while, though therewas the strong-room in my pantry with quite a thousand pounds-worth ofsilver in it--perhaps more--I never fancied anybody would come for that.
Master Barclay came, and went back to school, and Sir John grew morestrange; and then an old friend of his died and left one little child,Miss Virginia, and Sir John took her and brought her to the old house inBloomsbury, and she became--bless her sweet face!--just like his own.
Then, all at once I found that ten years had slipped by, and it set methinking about being ten years nearer the end, and that the years wererolling on, and some day another butler would sleep in my pantry, whileI was sleeping--well, you know where, cold and still--and that then SirJohn would be taking his last sleep too, and Master Barclay be, as itsays in the Scriptures, reigning in his stead.
And then it was that all in a flash something seemed to say to me:Suppose Sir John has never told his lawyers about that buried goldplate, and left no writing to show where it is. I felt quite startled,and didn't know what to think. As far as I could tell, nobody but SirJohn and I knew the secret. Young Master Barclay certainly didn't, orelse, when I let him carry the basket for a treat, and went into thecellar to fetch his father's port, he, being a talking, lively,thoughtless boy, would have been sure to say something. His fatherought certainly to tell him some day; but suppose the master was takenbad suddenly with apoplexy and died without being able--what then?
I didn't sleep much that night, for once more that gold plate was beingan incubus, and I determined to speak to Sir John as an old familyservant should, the very next day.
Next day came, and I daren't; and for days and days the incubus seemedto swell and trouble me, till I felt as if I was haunted. But Icouldn't make up my mind what to do, till one night, just before goingto bed, and then it came like a flash, and I laughed at myself for notthinking of it before. I didn't waste any time, but getting down myink-bottle and pens, I took a sheet of paper, and wrote as plainly as Icould about how Sir John Drinkwater and his butler James Burdon hadhidden all the chests of valuable old gold cups and salvers in the innerwine-cellar, where the entrance was bricked-up; and to make all sure, Iput down the date as near as I could remember in 1851, and the number ofthe house, 19 Great Grandon Street, Bloomsbury, because, though it wasnot likely, Sir John might move, and if that paper was found after I wasdead, people might go on a false scent, find nothing, and think I wasmad.
I locked that paper up in my old desk, feeling all the while as if Iought to have had it witnessed; but people don't like to put their namesto documents unless they know what they're about, and of course Icouldn't tell anybody the contents of that.
I felt satisfied as a man should who feels he has done his duty; andperhaps that's what made the time glide away so fast without anythingparticular happening. Sir John bought the six old houses like oursopposite, and gave twice as much for them as they were worth, becausesome one was going to build an Institution there, which might verylikely prove to be a nuisance.
I don't remember anything else in particular, only that the houses wouldnot let well, because Sir John grew close and refused to spend money indoing them up. But there was the trouble with Edward Gunning, thefootman, a clever, good-looking young fellow, who had been apprenticedto a bricklayer and contractor, but took to service instead, he did nogood in that; for, in spite of all I could say, he would take more thanwas good for him, and then Sir John found him out.
So Edward Gunning had to go; and I breathed more freely, and felt lessnervous.