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Updated: June 20, 2025
Nicky-Nan, bursting from the two men, gripped Rat-it-all by the collar, flung him back on the floor, snatched his bull's-eye, and diving as a rabbit into its burrow, plunged the lantern's ray into the gulf. Rat-it-all had spoken truth. The treasure every coin of it had vanished! Nicky-Nan's head dropped sideways and rattled on the boards. "Mister Nanjivell! Mis-ter Nanjivell!"
At this point Nicky-Nan fairly lost command of his temper. "So you're one wi' the rest, eh? All in one blasted conspiracy to turn me to doors! One comes threatenin', t'other comes carneyin', but all endin' in the same lidden. 'Your health ben't the best, Nanjivell: let me recommend a change of air. 'Nanjivell, you're a fine upstandin' fellow, an' young for your age.
It only tells what be in some other unfort'nate person's mind. It don't affect what's in my own," "Hullo!" hailed a voice behind them. "Comparin' love-letters, you young men?" The speaker was Nicky-Nan, come to survey the desolation of his 'taty-patch. Young Obed hastily crammed his envelope into his pocket. But Seth Minards turned about with a frank smile. "You may see mine, Mr Nanjivell.
"No, you won't," 'Beida answered him stoutly, and turned again to Nicky-Nan. "Mr Nanjivell," she pleaded, "tell me didn't you find these three turnin' your room inside out?" "'Course I did." Nicky-Nan cast a malignant glance around. "Was they doin' it with your leave?" "'Course they wasn't. Why, look at the state o' my head!"
We might try the old place first with a heavy cake, if Mr Nanjivell don't mind waitin' for a chat, an' will excuse the flavour whatever it turns out." "We're bewitched!" cried Mrs Penhaligon starting to her feet as the wailing was renewed, with a faint tunding on the iron door. 'Beida flung it open.
"You will hear more of this, Nanjivell," he threatened, turning about in the doorway. "Gas, again!" said 'Beida. Nicky-Nan stood silent, pointing. The retreat was not dignified. "But, o' course," said 'Beida, "the bottom of it all was 'Biades." "'Biades?" "He'd caught up with some chatter about your bein' a spy. Oh, bless your soul, everybody's talkin' about it!" she assured Nicky-Nan cheerfully.
Also he remembered casually an official letter received from Troy, a couple of days ago, concerning one Nicholas Nanjivell, a reservist. The man, if he remembered rightly, had an epithelioma somewhere in his leg, and was quite unfit for service. Nevertheless he must be visited: for the letter was official.
"But you see, sir," 'Bert went on, "this put me in mind that I'd seen Rat-it-all for two days past behavin' very silly behind walls an' fuzz-bushes, an' 'most always in the wake o' Nicky-Nan of Mr Nanjivell, I mean: which I'd set it down that it was a game between 'em, an' Mr Nanjivell just lendin' himself for practice, havin' time on his hands.
He was still conning it when the door opened, and Hendy appeared. Mr Pamphlett muttered "Consols," and refolded the newspaper hastily. "Nanjivell is here to see you, sir: at the side door. 'Says he must speak to you in private." "Oh . . . confound Nanjivell! I've had enough of that man. . . . Very well; but tell him I can't spare a moment over five minutes."
I didn' laugh at the moment, not bein' a triggerish chap at a joke. But it'll come in time. That's why I joined the sappers." "Eh?" "I takes a pleasure in redoocin' things. . . . Well, if you be the owner o' this here patch, the pleasure is mootual, for you've saved me time an' trouble over and above your speakin' so humorous. And what might your name be, makin' so bold?" "Nanjivell."
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