“Nothing for me , Mr. Samuel?”

Sam shook his head.

“I think there’s something,” said Stiggins, turning as pale as he could turn. “Consider, Mr. Samuel; no little token?”

“Not so much as the vorth o’ that ’ere old umberella o’ yourn,” replied Sam.

“Perhaps,” said Mr. Stiggins hesitatingly, after a few moments’ deep thought, “perhaps she recommended me to the care of the man of wrath, Mr. Samuel?”