`Some money,' roared Squeers. `I do believe the woman hears me, and wants to make me break a wessel, so that she may have the pleasure of nursing me. Some money, Slider--money!'
`Why, what a man you are to ask!' cried Peg, with some contempt. `If I had taken money from Arthur Gride, he'd have scoured the whole earth to find me--ay, and he'd have smelt it out, and raked it up, somehow, if I had buried it at the bottom of the deepest well in England. No, no! Iknew better than that. I took what I thought his secrets were hid in: and them he couldn't afford to make public, let'em be worth ever so much money.
He's an old dog; a sly, old, cunning, thankless dog! He first starved, and then tricked me; and if I could I'd kill him.'
`All right, and very laudable,' said Squeers. `But, first and foremost, Slider, burn the box. You should never keep things as may lead to discovery--always mind that. So while you pull it to pieces (which you can easily do, for it's very old and rickety) and burn it in little bits, I'll look over the papers and tell you what they are.'
Peg, expressing her acquiescence in this arrangement, Mr Squeers turned the box bottom upwards, and tumbling the contents upon the floor, handed it to her; the destruction of the box being an extemporary device for engaging her attention, in case it should prove desirable to distract it from his own proceedings.
`There!' said Squeers; `you poke the pieces between the bars, and make up a good fire, and I'll read the while. Let me see--let me see.' And taking the candle down beside him, Mr Squeers, with great eagerness and a cunning grin overspreading his face, entered upon his task of examination.
If the old woman had not been very deaf, she must have heard, when she last went to the door, the breathing of two persons close behind it: and if those two persons had been unacquainted with her infirmity, they must probably have chosen that moment either for presenting themselves or taking to flight. But, knowing with whom they had to deal, they remained quite still, and now, not only appeared unobserved at the door--which was not bolted, for the bolt had no hasp--but warily, and with noiseless footsteps, advanced into the room.