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"Seventeen!" said Adam, who was rapidly drawing near the end of his resources.
"Eighteen!" This from Job Jagway.
"Go easy there, Job!" hissed Adam, edging a little nearer to him, "go easy, now,--Nineteen!"
"Come, come Gentlemen!" remonstrated the Auctioneer, "this isn't a coal-scuttle, nor a broom, nor yet a pair of tongs,--this is a magnificent mahogany side-board,--and you offer me--nineteen pound!"
"Twenty!" said Job.
"Twenty-one!" roared Adam, making his last bid, and then, turning, he hissed in Job's unwilling ear,--"go any higher, an' I'll pound ye to a jelly, Job!"
"Twenty-five!" said Parsons.
"Twenty-seven!"
"Twenty-eight!"
"Thirty!" nodded Grimes, scowling at Adam.
"Thirty-two!" cried Parsons.
"Thirty-six!"
"Thirty-seven!"
"Forty!" nodded Grimes.
"That drops me," said Parsons, sighing, and shaking his head.
"Ah!" chuckled the Corn-chandler, "well, I've waited years for that side-board, Parsons, and I ain't going to let you take it away from me--nor n.o.body else, sir!"
"At forty!" cried the Auctioneer, "at forty!--this magnifi--"
"One!" nodded Bellew, beginning to fill his pipe.
"Forty-one's the bid,--I have forty-one from the gent in the corner--"
"Forty-five!" growled the Corn-chandler.
"Six!" said Bellew.
"Fifty!" snarled Grimes.
"One!" said Bellew.
"Gent in the corner gives me fifty-one!" chanted the Auctioneer--"any advance?--at fifty-one--"
"Fifty-five!" said Grimes, beginning to mop at his neck harder than ever.
"Add ten!" nodded Bellew.
"What's that?" cried Grimes, wheeling about.
"Gent in the corner offers me sixty-five,--at sixty-five,--this magnificent piece at sixty-five! What, are you all done?--at sixty-five, and cheap at the price,--come, gentlemen, take your time, give it another look over, and bid accordingly."
The crowd had dwindled rapidly during the last hour, which was scarcely to be wondered at seeing that they were constantly out-bid--either by a hoa.r.s.e voiced, square-shouldered fellow in a neck-cloth, or a dreamy individual who lolled in a corner, and puffed at a pipe.
But now, as Grimes, his red cheeks puffed out, his little eyes snapping in a way that many knew meant danger (with a large D)--as the rich Corn-chandler, whose word was law to a good many, turned and confronted this lounging, long-legged individual,--such as remained closed round them in a ring, in keen expectation of what was to follow. Observing which, the Corn-chandler feeling it inc.u.mbent upon him now or never, to vindicate himself as a man of property, and substance, and not to be put down, thrust his hands deep into his pockets, spread his legs wide apart, and stared at Bellew in a way that most people had found highly disconcerting, before now. Bellew, however, seemed wholly unaffected, and went on imperturbably filling his pipe.
"At sixty-five!" cried the Auctioneer, leaning towards Grimes with his hammer poised, "at sixty-five--Will you make it another pound, sir!--come,--what do you say?"
"I say--no sir!" returned the Corn-chandler, slowly, and impressively, "I say no, sir,--I say--make it another--twenty pound, sir!" Hereupon heads were shaken, or nodded, and there rose the sudden shuffle of feet as the crowd closed in nearer.
"I get eighty-five! any advance on eighty-five?"
"Eighty-six!" said Bellew, settling the tobacco in his pipe-bowl with his thumb.
Once again the Auctioneer leaned over and appealed to the Corn-chandler, who stood in the same att.i.tude, jingling the money in his pocket, "Come sir, don't let a pound or so stand between you and a side-board that can't be matched in the length and breadth of the United Kingdom,--come, what do you say to another ten s.h.i.+llings?"
"I say, sir," said Grimes, with his gaze still riveted upon Bellew, "I say--no sir,--I say make it another--twenty pound sir!"
Again there rose the shuffle of feet, again heads were nodded, and elbows nudged neighbouring ribs, and all eyes were focussed upon Bellew who was in the act of lighting his pipe.
"One hundred and six pounds!" cried the Auctioneer, "at one six!--at one six!--"
Bellew struck a match, but the wind from the open cas.e.m.e.nt behind him, extinguished it.
"I have one hundred and six pounds! is there any advance, yes or no?--going at one hundred and six!"
Adam who, up till now, had enjoyed the struggle to the utmost, experienced a sudden qualm of fear.
Bellew struck another match.
"At one hundred and six pounds!--at one six,--going at one hundred and six pounds--!"
A cold moisture started out on Adam's brow, he clenched his hands, and muttered between his teeth. Supposing the money were all gone, like his own share, supposing they had to lose this famous old side-board,--and to Grimes of all people! This, and much more, was in Adam's mind while the Auctioneer held his hammer poised, and Bellew went on lighting his pipe.
"Going at one hundred and six!--going!--going!--"
"Fifty up!" said Bellew. His pipe was well alight at last, and he was nodding to the Auctioneer through a fragrant cloud.
"What!" cried Grimes, "'ow much?"
"Gent in the corner gives me one hundred and fifty six pounds," said the Auctioneer, with a jovial eye upon the Corn-chandler's lowering visage, "one five six,--all done?--any advance? Going at one five six,--going!
going!--gone!" The hammer fell, and with its tap a sudden silence came upon the old hall. Then, all at once, the Corn-chandler turned, caught up his hat, clapped it on, shook a fat fist at Bellew, and crossing to the door, lumbered away, muttering maledictions as he went.
By twos and threes the others followed him until there remained only Adam, Bellew, the Auctioneer, and the red-nosed Theodore. And yet, there was one other, for, chancing to raise his eyes to the minstrel's gallery, Bellew espied Miss Priscilla, who, meeting his smiling glance, leaned down suddenly over the carved rail, and very deliberately, threw him a kiss, and then hurried away with a quick, light tap-tap of her stick.