“Do you know, young man,” whispered Mr. Stiggins, drawing his chair closer to Sam, “whether she has left Emanuel anything?”

“Who’s he?” inquired Sam.

“The chapel,” replied Mr. Stiggins; “our chapel; our fold, Mr. Samuel.”

“She hasn’t left the fold nothin’, nor the shepherd nothin’, nor the animals nothin’,” said Sam decisively; “nor the dogs neither.”

Mr. Stiggins looked slyly at Sam; glanced at the old gentleman, who was sitting with his eyes closed, as if asleep; and drawing his chair still nearer, said⁠—