It was Saturday night, the Saturday after the above conversation, and Mr. Lynn was making ready to pay the men. James Meeking was payer in a general way; but James Meeking was also packer; that is, he packed, with assistance, the goods for London. A parcel was being sent off this evening, so that it fell to Mr. Lynn's lot to pay the workmen. He stood before the desk in the serving-room, counting out the money in readiness. There was a quantity of silver in a bag, and a great many brown paper packets of halfpence; each packet containing five shillings. But they all had to be counted, for sometimes a packet would run a penny or twopence short.  
The door at the foot of the stairs was heard to open, and a man's step came up. It proved to be a workman from a neighbouring manufactory.
 
"If you please, Mr. Lynn, could you oblige our people with twelve or fourteen pounds' worth of change?" he asked. "We couldn't get in enough to-day, try as we would. The halfpence seem as scarce as the silver."
 
Now it happened that the Ashley manufactory was that evening abundantly supplied. Samuel Lynn went into the counting-house to the master, who was seated at the desk. "The Dunns have sent in to know if we can oblige them with twelve or fourteen pounds' worth of change," said he. "We have plenty to-night; but to send away so much may run us very short. Dost thee happen to have any gold that thee can spare?"
 
Mr. Ashley looked at his own cash drawer. "Here are six, seven sovereigns."
 
"That will be sufficient," replied Samuel Lynn, taking them from his hand, and going back to the in the serving-room. "How much has thee need of?" asked he.
 
"Fourteen pounds, please, sir. I have the cheque here, made out for it. Silver or , it doesn't matter which; or a little gold. I have brought a basket along with me."
 
Mr. Lynn gave the money, and took the cheque. The man departed, and the Quaker carried the cheque to Mr. Ashley.
 
Mr. Ashley put the cheque into one of the pigeon-holes of his desk. He had the account in duplicate before him, of the goods going off, and was casting it up. William and Cyril were both in the counting-house, but not engaged with Mr. Ashley. William was marking small figures on certain banded gloves; Cyril was looking on, an employment that suited Cyril amazingly. His want of occupation caught the Quaker's eye.
 
"If thee has nothing to do, thee can come and help me count the papers of ."
 
Cyril dared not say "No," before Mr. Ashley. He might have hesitated to say it to Samuel Lynn; nevertheless, it was a work he especially disliked. It is not pleasant to soil the fingers counting innumerable five-shilling brown-paper packets of copper money; to part them into stacks of twelve pence, or twenty-four halfpence. In point of fact, it was James Meeking's work; but there were times when Samuel Lynn, William, and Cyril had each to take his turn at it. Perhaps the two former liked it no better than did Cyril Dare.
 
Cyril ungraciously followed to the serving-room. In a few minutes James Meeking looked in at the counting-house. "Is the master ready?"
 
Mr. Ashley rose and went into the next room, carrying one of the duplicate lists. The men were waiting to pack—James Meeking and the other packer, a young man named Dance. The several papers of boxes were ready on a side counter; and Mr. Ashley stood with the list in his hand, ready to verify them. Had Samuel Lynn not been occupied with serving, he would have done this.
 
"Three dozen best men's outsizes, coloured," called out James Meeking, reading the marks on the first parcel he took up.
 
"Right," responded Mr. Ashley.
 
James Meeking laid it upon the packing-table—clear, except for an enormous sheet of brown paper as thick as card-board—turned to the side counter and took up another of the parcels.
 
"Three dozen best men's outsizes, coloured," repeated he.
 
"Right," replied Mr. Ashley.
 
And so on, till all the parcels were told through and were found to with the . Then began the packing. It made a large parcel, about four feet square. Mr. Ashley remained, looking on.
 
"You will not have enough string there," he observed, as the men were placing the string round it in squares.
 
"I told you we shouldn't, Meeking," said George Dance.
 
"There's no more downstairs," was Meeking's answer, "I thought it might be enough."
 
Neither of the men could leave the parcel. They were mounted on steps on either side of it. Mr. Ashley called to William. "Light the lantern, and go upstairs to the string-closet. Bring down a ball."
 
Candles were not allowed to be carried about the . William came , lighted the lantern, and went upstairs. At the same moment, Cyril Dare, who had finished his disagreeable copper counting, strolled into the counting-house. Finding it empty, he thought he could not do better than take a survey of Mr. Ashley's desk, the lid of which was open. He had no particular in doing this, except that that receptacle might present some food or other to gratify his curiosity, which the glove-laden counters could not be supposed to do. Amidst other things his eyes fell on the Messrs. Dunns' cheque, which lay in one of the pigeon-holes.
 
"It would set me up for a fortnight, that fourteen pounds!" ejaculated he. "No one would find it out, either. Ashley would suspect any one in the manufactory before he'd suspect me!"
 
He stood for a moment in indecision, his hand stretched out. Should it be back, and the temptation resisted; or, should he yield to it? "Here goes!" cried Cyril. "Nothing risk, nothing win!"
 
He transferred the cheque to his own pocket, and stole out of the counting-house into the small narrow passage which intervened between it and Mr. Lynn's room, where the parcel was being made up. Passing stealthily through the room, at the back of the huge parcel, which hid him from the eyes of the men and of Mr. Ashley, he emerged in safety into the serving-room, took up his position close to Samuel Lynn, and began assiduously to count over some shilling stacks which he had already verified. Samuel Lynn, his face turned to the crowd of men who were on the other side the counter receiving their wages, had not noticed the absence of Cyril Dare. Upon this probable fact Cyril had reckoned.
 
"Any more to count?" asked Cyril.
 
Samuel Lynn turned his head round. "Not if thee has finished all the packets." Had he seen what had just taken place, he might have packets of coppers to Mr. Cyril less confidently.
 
Cyril jumped upon the edge of the desk, and remained perched there. William Halliburton came back with the , which he handed to George Dance. Blowing out the lantern, he returned to the counting-house.
 
The parcel was completed, and James Meeking directed it in his plain, clerk-like hand—"Messrs. James Morrison, Dillon, and Co., Street, London." It was then conveyed to a truck in waiting, to be wheeled to the parcels office. Mr. Ashley returned to his desk and sat down. Presently Cyril Dare came in.
 
"Halliburton, don't you want to be paid to-night? Every one's paid but you. Mr. Lynn's waiting to close the desk."
 
"Here is a letter for the post, William," called out Mr. Ashley.
 
"I am coming back, sir. I have not set the counter straight yet."
 
He received his money—thirty shillings a week now. He then put things straight in the counting-house, to do which was as much Cyril's work as his, and took a letter from the hands of Mr. Ashley. It contained one of the duplicate lists, and was addressed as the parcel had been. William generally had charge of the outward-bound letters now; he did not forget them as he had done in his first unlucky essay. He threw on the elegant cloak of which you have heard, took his hat, and went through the town, as far as the post-office, Cyril Dare walking with him. There they parted; Cyril continuing his way homewards, William his steps.
 
All had left the manufactory except Mr. Ashley and Samuel Lynn. James Meeking had gone down. On a late night, as the present, when all had done except the master and Samuel L............