A dull mind, once arriving at an
inference that flatters a desire, is rarely able to retain the
impression that the notion from which the inference started was purely
problematic. And Dunstan's mind was as dull as the mind of a
possible felon usually is. There were only three hiding-places where
he had ever heard of cottagers' hoards being found: the thatch, the
bed, and a hole in the floor. Marner's cottage had no thatch; and
Dunstan's first act, after a train of thought made rapid by the
stimulus of cupidity, was to go up to the bed; but while he did so,
his eyes travelled eagerly over the floor, where the bricks,
distinct in the fire-light, were discernible under the sprinkling of
sand. But not everywhere; for there was one spot, and one only,
which was quite covered with sand, and sand showing the marks of
fingers which had apparently been careful to spread it over a given
space. It was near the treddles of the loom. In an instant Dunstan
darted to that spot, swept away the sand with his whip, and, inserting
the thin end of the hook between the bricks, found that they were
loose. In haste he lifted up two bricks, and saw what he had no
doubt was the object of his search; for what could there be but
money in those two leathern bags? And, from their weight, they must be
filled with guineas. Dunstan felt round the hole, to be certain that
it held no more; then hastily replaced the bricks, and spread the sand
over them.
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