Mr. Kirby rose briskly, and they all rose with him.
He went to the Green Overcoat, held it up before him with both hands, and said to Mr. Brassington—
"Now, Brassington, which is it to be?"
The Merchant, not knowing what he did, slipped into the familiar garment.
How warm was its fur, how ancient its traditional comfort about his person! What a companion!
"I leave it to you, Kirby," he said in a changed voice. "I 've only to move and I shall do harm all round, and if I sit tight I save eight thousand pounds—and I win."
They were moving to the door, when suddenly Mr. Brassington added—
"Good Heavens! what am I doing in this coat? I thought I was going out!"
"Never mind," said Mr. Kirby, "take it off again. Familiar things remain. They are the only things that do."
And sure enough the bargain held.
****
Now as to what followed, Reader, or as I
