'But what about the lottery?' said Mr. Biggs, who did not look as if he would take Oswald to prison just then, as our young hero had feared. In fact, he looked rather jolly. 'Is the prize money?'
'No--oh no; only it's so valuable it's as good as winning money.'
'Then it's only a raffle,' said Mr. Biggs; 'that's what it is, just a plain raffle. What _is_ the prize?'
'Are we to be allowed to go on with it?' asked the wary Oswald.
'Why, yes,' said Mr. Biggs; 'if it's not money, why not? What is the valuable object?'
'Come, Oswald,' said his father, when Oswald said nothing, 'what is the object of _virtù_?'
'I'd rather not say,' said Oswald, feeling very uncomfortable.
Mr. Biggs said something about duty being duty, and my father said:
'Come, Oswald, don't be a young duffer. I dare say it's nothing to be ashamed of.'
'I should think not indeed,' said Oswald, as his fond thoughts played with that beautiful Goat.
'Well, sir'--Oswald spoke desperately, for he wondered his father had been so patient so long, and saw that he wasn't going to go on being--'you see, the great thing is, nobody is to know it's a G---- I mean, it's a secret. No one's to know what the prize is. Only when you've won it, it will be revealed.'
'Well,' said my father, 'if Mr. Biggs will take a glass of wine with me, we'll follow you down to the greenhouse, and he can see for himself.'
Mr. Biggs said something about thanking father kindly, and about his duty. And presently they came down to the greenhouse. Father did not introduce Mr. Biggs to anyone--I suppose he forgot--but Oswald did while father was talking to Mrs. Leslie. And Mr. Biggs made himself very agreeable to all the ladies.
Then we had the lottery. Everyone had tickets, and Alice asked Mr. Biggs to buy one. She let him have it for a shilling, because it was the last, and we all hoped he would win the Goat. He seemed quite sure now that Oswald was not kidding, and that the prize was not money. Indeed, Oswald went so far as to tell him privately that the prize was too big to put in your pocket, and that if it was divided up it would be spoiled, which is true of Goats, but not of money.
[Illustration: '"Here is your prize," said Oswald.'--Page 31.]
Everyone was laughing and talking, and wondering anxiously whatever the prize could possibly be. Oswald carried round the hat, and everyone drew a number. The winning number was six hundred and sixty-six, and Albert's uncle said afterwards it was a curious coincidence. I don't know what it meant, but it made Mrs. Leslie laugh. When everyone had drawn a number, Oswald rang the dinner-bell to command silence, and there was a hush full of anxious expectation. Then Oswald said: