IIl.] THE SIL VEN FAIRIES. 165

 

entirely without regret. She knew, however, that
her grandfather had one source of solace which in
old days had never failed him, and advised him ac-
cordingly to have recourse to that faithful comforter —
his pipe. By no means unwilling to follow this
counsel, the old man betook himself to his study,
pulled an arm-chair in front of the fire, lighted his
pipe and sat down for his first smoke in his grand
new home. After a whiff or two, however, he be~
thought himself that he would take a look at the old
piece of furniture in its new position, and just see
that everything was right with it. Somehow or other,
it did not look to him quite the same as usual. What
it was, he could not tell, but certainly there was a
difference, just as you may observe in a human being,
whose features indeed remain the same, but who
sometimes varies extremely in expression according
to his or her condition of mind and body. So there
seemed, somehow or other, to be an unusual and un-
accountable heaviness about the old piece of furniture
which struck Simon at once. He rose from his chair,
walked to the corner of the room in which stood the
article in question, and opened it forthwith. ‘There
were the pigeon-holes and drawers exactly the same
as usual, and Simon stretched out his hand and
opened the treasure drawer which had stood him in
such good stead. There was no difficulty, as once
before, in his doing this, but when he had done so,
dreadful to relate—‘ the drawer was empty!’ Nota
note, not a scrap of paper, not a vestige of anything
whatever. Empty, positively empty, was the drawer,
and the fact was too plain and certain to admit of a