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Updated: May 13, 2025
"A very deep subject; and I quite understand your not having time for it lately. How about that Ejectment Order?" Nicky-Nan jumped like a man shot. "Ha have you got the the thing about 'ee?" he twittered. "Don't tell me that Pamphlett has got 'em to send it down? . . . But there, you can't do anything on a Bank Holiday, anyway." "Have I got the thing about me?" echoed the policeman slowly.
It seems he not only hath been long jealous of the Duke of York, but did find them two talking together, though there were others in the room, and the lady by all opinions a most good, virtuous woman. 23rd. Mr. His discourse was well worth hearing. I bought "Audley's Way to be Rich," a serious pamphlett, and some good things worth my minding. 25th.
A verse ran in his head "I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills from whence cometh my help. . . ." The slamming of a door at the street-corner beyond the bridge recalled him to the world of action. On the doorstep of the local Bank turning key in lock as he left the premises stood a man respectably dressed and large of build. It was Mr Pamphlett, the Bank-Manager.
Pamphlett, or Government, might take his house: but there was the old hiding-cupboard to the right of the chimney-breast. . . . When they summoned him to-morrow, he would have vanished. Only by uncovering his last shelter should they discover what was left of him. He would perish with the house.
The rest had started to walk along the shore to Sydney, but one man, named Pamphlett, had remained with the natives; and it was he who now was rescued by Oxley, to whom he gave the information that, when roving inland with the tribe among whom he was living, he had seen a fine river of fresh water.
"I have reason to believe," continued Mr Pamphlett, ignoring her and wagging his forefinger at Nicky; "I have evidence going far to convince me that this money of which we are talking is not yours at all: that you never earned it by your own labour, nor inherited it, nor were left it in any legitimate way. In other words, you were just lucky enough to find it." "What's that to you?"
"I heard Mr Pamphlett say it, day before yesterday. He was round with Squinny Gilbert " "Fie now, your manners get worse and worse!" his mother reproved him. "Who be you, to talk of the builder-man without callin' him 'Mister'?" "Well then, he was round with Mister Squinny Gilbert, lookin' over the back o' the house.
Mr Pamphlett had nothing of the sort. In ordinary circumstances, knowing Nicky-Nan to be an honest man, he would have treated him easily. But he wanted to "develope" Polpier to his own advantage: and his scheme of development centred on the old house by the bridge. He desired to pull it down and transfer the Bank to that eligible site.
Also he could not rid his mind of a terror that his wealth might prove, after all, to be fairy gold, and vanish in air. It was a relief in a way to find that Mr Pamphlett, after ringing each coin on his table, had accepted the seven pieces for currency. But this business of the spade-guinea raised a new scare to agitate him.
Lucky I brought the lantern, too!" "You dare!" screamed Nicky-Nan, rushing to pull him backward by the collar. The constable, his head in the bowels of the hiding-place, neither heard him nor saw Mr Pamphlett and Builder Gilbert interpose to hold Nicky-Nan back. "But 'tis empty," announced Policeman Rat-it-all. "Empty?"
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