am quite at your service.' He sat down by the girl under the lee of the
great stones. It was warm there and pleasant, leaning against the grey
blocks of hoar antiquity and unknown use, stained orange and silvery
white with lichen, and with white frosty moss like antlers of elfin deer
filling the nooks in the stones. The ants were crawling over the moss in
the sun; they were migrating and wore their wings for that one day.
Turf was heaped up at the side of the cromlech, forming a rude bench.
On this the two sat. As he took his place the thought came into
Herring's head that far away in the dim prehistoric age, some such a
savage as that which sat beside him had assisted when it was reared.
'It be lew (sheltered) here,' said Joyce; 'vaither hev took to sitting
here mostly on a Sunday when he ain't wanted to the mine.'
'He leaves you very much alone now.'
'That he does. Vaither be much changed o' late. The vokes there ha'
taught 'n to smoke, and they give 'n a bit o' backie now and then, and
when he haven't got no backie, then he flips off this here moss, this
black sort o' trade on the moorstones, and he smokes that.'
'A new sort of life for him,' said Herring.
'It amuses he,' answered the girl. 'He says he didn't know as Gorolmity
had so many vules in the world. He says they be as plenty as stones on
Dartmoor.'
'I dare say they are, and certainly those are fools who congregate about
Ophir.'
'Vaither likes to hear mun talk, and go sifting and cradling and washing
for the gold. It makes 'n laugh, it do.'
'Why, Joyce?'
'Why, because there bain't none of 'em knows where the gold comes from,
and there bain't one of 'em as don't think himself as wise as Cosdon is
big.'
'Where does the gold come from?' asked Herring, eagerly, so eagerly that
Joyce turned sharply round and looked him hard in the face.
'Don't'y know neither?'
'Indeed I do not.'
'Vaither said as you didn't and nobody didn't. And larned and skolards
as the volk be, vaither be too much for mun.'
'Joyce, if you can tell me where the gold comes from I shall indeed be
thankful.'
'Do you wish very much to know?'
Joyce was silent. She looked straight before her. Something was
working in her mind.
'Well, Joyce?' asked Herring; he laid his hand on hers. 'If you will
tell me this, you will repay me for all the little trouble I took to
make your poor hands sound and strong again.
'Then I'll tell you, come what may. It is just this that made me doubt
to say. Vaither 'd kill me sure as vuzz blooms all the year, if he
knowed as I had told you. Look here,' said Joyce; 'do'y see thicky ant
there. Well, he took up a great moorstone, and sez he, "You, Joyce, be
that ant, and I'll treat you the same," and down with the stone.'
'Yes,' said Herring, his blood curdling, 'I understand you.'
'And after that he sed, Glory rallaluley.'
'Joyce, your father shall never know that you told me.'
'Whether he knows or not I'll tell, because you wish it. If he does
kill me, it don't matter much.' Then she looked him steadily in the
eyes, and said: 'This be the way in which it be done. Vaither puts the
gold dust in. When the bell rings, that's the signal for he to be ready
up at the head o' the launder' (wooden channel) 'where the water runs
along to go to the washing pans, and he just slips in some of the gold
into the water. So the stream carries it down into the washing places
where the pounded stone is ready to be washed.'
Herring almost laughed. The solution of the puzzle was simplicity
itself--so simple that it had escaped every one. Every eye had watched
the stone, no one had thought that the water might be salted.
'I'll show you some of it,' said Joyce. 'There is a little bag hid away
under the table. You understand vaither don't put none in when there be
no vules to find it. Old Tramplara pulls a cord, and that lets the water
on; and when the water is let on, vaither sprinkles the gold in it. He
don't do it when there be no vules there, for Tramplara sez he ha'n't
got much of the gold to waste. Then, after it has been washed and
sorted out, he gives it back to vaither, and in it goes again for more
vules to find. I've done it once or twice myself for vaither, when he
couldn't go hisself. That be how I came to know about it.'
'I am lastingly indebted to you, Joyce, for telling me this.'
'You won't bring vaither to no harm because of this, will'y now? That
'ud be too cruel onkind o' you. But no--you'll never do no hurt to me
nor vaither, I be sure.'
'Indeed I will not, dear Joyce. I shall never forget what I owe to you
for having told me this; and I promise you your father shall not suffer
for it.'
*CHAPTER XXVII.*
*COBBLEDICK'S RHEUMATICS.*
John Herring did not go at once to Mr. Battishill with the account of
what he had heard. He waited till he had himself witnessed the
transaction. Some time before the public were admitted to the mine, he
went in that direction, making however a wide circuit, and secreted
himself behind some of the rocks that commanded the head of the
'launder.' There he remained till Old Grizzly arrived, and, after
having looked about him, lay down beside the stream close to the sluice
that let the water into the wooden conduit for the washing floors.
Herring saw him strew the dust in the stream as it was admitted; he
remained at his post of observation till some time after Cobbledick had
departed, and then he went direct to West Wyke.
He told Mr. Battishill what he had learned from Joyce, and how he had
verified the account with his own eyes. It was true he had not arrested
Grizzly's hand and taken the gold dust out of it; but he had seen some
of the gold supplied to the old man by Tramplara, and which he kept
secreted under the Giant's Table, and there was no moral doubt that what
the old man had strewn in the water was that gold powder which Tramplara
intended should be found in the pans.
The revelation of the fraud made Mr. Battishill excited and angry.
'What,' he exclaimed, helpless in his agitation--'what is to be done?
Good heavens! what can be done?'
'That is what I have been considering. You are a justice of the peace,
and you must sign a warrant for the arrest of Mr. Tramplara and his son.
There can be no question that young Sampson is involved in the swindle
equally with his father, who is the originator and mainspring of the
whole concern.'
'I have not acted for many years. I had rather not.'
'But, sir, I think it most important that you should take this matter
up. Remember, this fraud has been carried out on your property, under a
lease granted by you, and that you come out of it without the loss of a
penny. I think it possible--I only say possible--that some
inconsiderate persons may cast reflections on you. Fortunately, your
name is not on the list of directors, so that you will not be involved
in the ruin this discovery will bring on many; but your abstention from
becoming one may be commented on unfavourably, unless you cut the
occasion away. If you issue a warrant for the apprehension of the
wretched swindlers, and become the main instrument of the break-up of
the company and the exposure of the dishonest trick that has been
played, no one can wag his tongue against you.'
'You are right,' said the old man. He held out his hand to Herring, and
the tears came into his eyes. 'John, I cannot thank you sufficiently
for having protected me against myself. I confess to you that old
Tramplara had talked my suspicions down, and had raised in my breast the
demon of cupidity. No, I will not say cupidity, but speculation. I do
not care for money in itself, but I do delight in making it, or, what is
the same thing, in scheming how to make it. I suspect I have been too
overweening in my esteem of my own powers, and now you have given that
conceit a fatal fall. Do you remember the wrestle in "As You Like it?"
"Sir," I say with Rosalind, "you have wrestled well, and overthrown more
than" Tramplara. I trust my self-esteem is dead as Charles. I shall
never again venture to have an opinion contrary to yours.'
'But, Mr. Battishill, is not this a little wandering from the point? I
want a warrant for the apprehension of father and son.'
'It is no wandering at all. I am explaining to you the reason of my
submission. I tell you that you have but to propose a measure, and I
carry it out as best I may. Go to Okehampton, and get a clerk to make
out a warrant, and I will sign it.'
'One thing more. I do not wish old Cobbledick to be arrested. He is
too stupid and too ignorant to know what he has been doing, and it must
be managed that he is allowed to escape. I have passed my word to Joyce
that he shall not be brought into trouble. Poor Joyce is in terror of
her life of him, and if he were to suspect that she had betrayed the
secret it would go hard with her.'
'Oh no,' said Mr. Battishill, hastily; 'Cobbledick is my tenant, that
is, a squatter on my land, and I must protect him if I can.'
'It can be managed,' said Herring. 'I will go to him, and tell him
plainly what I saw to-day, and threaten that I will have him
apprehended, unless he absents himself to-morrow, and gets the
Tramplaras to appoint a substitute. After that I will communicate with
the constable, and we shall succeed in arresting gold-handed the fellow
who salts the water.'
'Poor Cobbledick! I should be very sorry for trouble to come on him.
He is a beast, not a man, and these Tramplaras have put him in shafts
and driven him where they chose to go.'
'One thing more,' pursued Herring. 'Directly we have caught the man in
the act, I must ride to Launceston at full speed. Old Tramplara is not
here. He has gone home because his daughter is about to be married; by
the way, the marriage is to take place this week, I believe. If the
news were to reach him before he is arrested, he would draw every penny
of the shareholders' money from the bank, and make a bolt with it.
Before we knew whether he were gone to Plymouth or Falmouth, he would be
on the high seas, and those who have invested in Ophir would lose
everything.'
'You are right, John, right again. You take every one's interests under
your protection. I suspect there will be wailing and wringing of hands
when this scandal breaks on the religio-speculative world.'
Herring did not see Cobbledick till next morning. After the interview
with Mr. Battishill, he rode into Okehampton and obtained the warrant.
He did not wish to speak to Grizzly long before he dealt the stroke,
lest he should give the alarm. When he did speak, he was
straightforward with him.
'Cobbledick,' he said, 'I have long entertained suspicions of Ophir. I
knew it was a swindle, but how the swindling was managed I did not know
till yesterday. I had gone through every process of the mine
attentively, except one, and I was satisfied that the trickery was not
committed under my eyes in the mine itself. There was only one process
I had not studied, and that was one which took place above the workings.
I allude to the letting on of the water that washes the gozzen.
Yesterday I watched that, hiding under a rock, and I saw you steal to
the head of the launder, and I observed you salting the water with
gold-dust. Now I know exactly how the fraud is carried out. Are you
aware of the consequences? I have only to apply to a magistrate for a
warrant, and you are arrested and committed to gaol, and there you will
probably lie for many months.'
Cobbledick's face became livid.
'I do not want to throw you into prison, partly because I believe you
have acted in ignorance of what you were doing, but chiefly because I
wish to fix the noose round the right throats.'
'Cap'n[1] Tramplara set me on it,' said Cobbledick; 'he sed, if I didn't
do 'zackly as he wanted, he'd tear down the Giant's Table, and be
altogether the ruin o' me. He'd got that hold on Squire Battishill that
he couldn't help me. And I did it to save myself.'
[1] The head of a mine bears the title of captain.
'I am quite aware that Mr. Tramplara made you his tool, and I do not
want you to suffer, if it can be avoided, because you have been an
ignorant and unwilling tool.'
'Unwilling,' echoed Grizzly, 'I'll swear; glory rallaluley.'
'I repeat that I wish to spare you because you were an ignorant tool,
and also, and that especially, because of poor Joyce, who would be
heart-broken were anything to happen to you, unnatural father though you
be.'
'Ah! sure-ly it 'ud kill Joyce. Her be that tooked up wi' me, her can't
abide as no harm should come to I. What 'ud her do without me, I'd like
to know? Where'd her get meat, and clothes, and fire? If I were tooked
and put in the lock-up, her'd die right on end wi' fright and hunger.'
The mean old man enforced this view of the case, thinking to deepen
Herring's reluctance to compromise him.
'There may be two opinions about that,' said Herring: 'suffice it,
however, that for the sake of Joyce I would spare you. Now the only way
this can be done is for you to decline salting the water to-morrow, when
I and other witnesses will be there to see the thing done, and I shall
be prepared to arrest the doer.'
'If I don't do it, then it be Joyce who does.'
'But Joyce must not do it. Who is in charge of the mine this week?'
'Young Sampson Tramplara.'
'Very well; tell him that you can't be there.'
'Ow!' yelped the old man, 'I be took already cruel wi' the rheumatics.
I reckon in another half a wink I shan't be able to stir neither voot
nor hand.'
'So let it be. Your rheumatism incapacitates you from attending to your
work, and Joyce is sent far off, on an errand. Then Mr. Sampson will
employ another man.'
'He'll do it hisself. He don't let no one else into the dodge except me
and Joyce.'
'So much the better. Then we shall catch the prime culprit in the act.
Now, Cobbledick, you understand. Not one word of this must be repeated.
If you let out what I have told you, then your chance of escape is gone.
I shall have you arrested this evening, and you will spend the night in
the lock-up. You comprehend this?'
The old man put his dirty finger to his eye and winked. 'My grandfer
wasn't Jonadab the son o' Rechab. I arn't a vule, it be them as goes to
Ophir as be the vules.'
Herring left him. Then Cobbledick's face changed. He was fairly
frightened. He sought Joyce at once; no suspicion crossed him that she
had betrayed the secret.
'Joyce,' he said in a hoarse whisper, 'the thing's a' busted blazes
high.'
'What be, vaither?'
'Hophir, as they calls it. The young maister hev a found out all about
'n.'
Joyce was alarmed; she looked uneasily at her father, but there was no
anger in his face.
'Joyce,' he went on, 'that old Cap'n Tramplara hev never gived me what
he've a promised.'
'What hev he a promised'y?'
'He sed he'd a give me as many pounds o' backie as I worked days for he,
a salting o' the water. He arn't paid me not these three weeks. See
here, I ha' notched it on thicky stone. Now he don't know nothing o'
this here bust-up. And when he do hear, then he'll not give me no
backie more. And, I reckon, he won't pay me that he already owes me.
So you cut along to Lanson so vast as your legs can carry you.'
'Vaither, I know nothing o' the road.'
'You cut right on end after the tip o' your nose,' he said, 'and you cut
so vast as you can. You cannot miss 'n. And mind, you must get there
afore the news of the bust-up do come to the Cap'n, and you tell 'n
this: "Give me the backie in pounds"--that's just so many pounds as
you've fingers and toes on your body, and one over for your head. Now
don't you be a jackass and forget that one over. A head is every mite
as much consekance to a human cretur as his little toe. And you say to
'n: "Give me as much backie in pounds as I've fingers and toes, and a
head;" and you hold 'n out all straight afor 'n that he may count mun
hisself. And you mind you don't forget to reckon your head in. Then you
go on and say, "I'll tell'y something mighty partickler about Ophir."
Say as vaither sent me lopping all the way, so hard as I could lop. And
if he gives you the backie, then you can tell 'n all--how the young
maister hev found out all about 'n, and be agoing to lock up him and the
young Cap'n Sampson in gaol. But if he don't give'y the backie, then
you can just please yourself and tell 'n nothing. There now, don't'y
bide about, but cut away.'
'But you, vaither! Will you get into trouble?'
'I--I'm about to be took cruel bad wi' rheumatics, and what they calls
the loinbagey. Now, afore you goes to Lanson, just you cut down to
Ophir, and tell Cap'n Sampson I wants to see 'n mighty partickler here
to the Table.'
An hour later, young Sampson Tramplara was at the cromlech. As he
approached, he heard moaning and cries issuing from the interior.
'What the devil is the matter here?' he asked, looking in. 'Who is that
howling and groaning?'
'Oh, Cap'n, it be me; I be took cruel bad wi' rheumatics and the
loinbagey.'
'Well, I'm not your doctor.'
'I sent to tell'y that I couldn't fulfil my duty to-day there to Ophir.'
'Then your daughter can do it.'
'Her's off to Lanson.'
'What the devil is she gone there for?'
'Sure, after my backie. Your vaither he promised me a pound a day for
the work I did, and he arn't paid me for a long while. Look'y there, I
ha' notched it all on the stone. There be as many days as you have
fingers and toes, and your head chucked in as well.'
'You fool!' exclaimed young Tramplara, 'why did you not apply to me,
instead of sending all the way to Launceston for it?'
'Cos, if I'd ha' axed you, you'd ha' throwed a curse at me instead o' a
pound o' backie.'
'You damned blockhead,' swore the young man, angrily.
'There--I sed as much. I'd rather hev the backie, though 'tother don't
hurt, it only tickles.'
'Curse it,' exclaimed Sampson, in a violent rage; 'there is a particular
reason to-day why I want the water well salted. Damn your rheumatism;
you _must_ be at your post.'
'I can't and I won't,' said Grizzly, sulkily.
'It is. You won't, not you can't,' blustered Sampson; then he gathered
his stick short in his hand, and catching the old man by the ragged
collar of his coat, he beat him well, pouring forth at the same time a
volley of curses.
'This is all sham; I don't believe in your rheumatism. This is
idleness. You are a good-for-nothing scoundrel. I'll give you occasion
to moan and cry out.'
'You leave me alone, Cap'n,' yelled Cobbledick. 'You forget, I reckon,
that I hev got the hanging of'y in my hands.'
'It may be so, but you forget that if I swing you swing also; one rope
will do for both of us,' said Sampson. 'And for that reason I do not
fear you in the least. Now then, will you do your work again to-day?'
'I can't.'
'I'll give you five pounds of backie.'
'I say what I sez; I can't do it.'
'Then,' said young Sampson, 'there is no help for it; I must manage the
job myself.'
'You'd better,' assented Grizzly; 'if I was you, I wouldn't trust nobody
else.'
'I don't mean to,' answered Sampson. He was panting after the thrashing
he had administered, and as he cooled he began to question his
discretion in giving way to his brutality. 'I say, Cobbledick, you mind
this; you and I and my father are all in the same box, and you in the
worst compartment of it, for it is you who have put the dust in. My
father and I can always put on the look of innocence and throw the blame
on you. You, if the rope has to be tasted, you will have the first
bite.'
'I understand,' said the old man, putting his finger to his eye.
'Jonadab the son of Rechab weren't my father. I ain't a vule; it be
they as goes to Ophir be the vules.'
'You won't take it ill that I thrashed you. You put me out, and I am
naturally of a quick temper.'
'I say, Cap'n; I wouldn't let none else do the job to-day. I'd do it
myself if I was you.'
'I intend to. I told you I did.'
'That be right. Do it yourself.'
Then young Sampson left the den. As he was turning away, he thought he
heard loud laughter from within. He was of a suspicious nature, and he
turned back.
'What are you laughing at, Cobbledick?'
'I bain't laughing; I be screeching wi' pain. What wi' the rheumatics,
and the loinbagey, and the licking I ha' had, I hev cause to, I reckon;
and I sez glory rallaluley between the twinges by way of easement.'
*CHAPTER XXVIII.*
*CAUGHT IN THE ACT.*
Whilst young Sampson was with Old Grizzly in his den, Herring was on his
way down the Okehampton road to meet the constable at a spot already
agreed upon. When he came to the point near the stream where the track
to Ophir diverged from the high road, he found two post carriages drawn
up in the way, from which were descending a party of grave-looking
persons of a hard appearance of face, as if they were all in a spiritual
and mental ironmongery trade. They were under the lead of the Rev.
Israel Flamank, who was about to conduct them over the mine.
The way to it across the moor was rough, and not good travelling for a
carriage. The chaises were ordered to go to Zeal, and the party, well
supplied with comestibles, prepared to walk to Ophir, examine the
washing of the gold, and then picnic in a serio-speculative mood on the
moor.
Mr. Flamank was a veritable decoy-duck to the Tramplaras. Full of
enthusiasm, earnest in belief, transparently sincere, he impressed even
those who had cool judgments. He looked on Ophir as his own discovery,
and was proud of it. To hear him talk, the Bible was written as a huge
puff of Ophir, and the Christian ministry called into existence to tout
for shares.
Herring was slightly acquainted with him. He had seen him several times
at Ophir, and he knew that the man was sincere and honest. He pitied him
because he saw him running headforemost to moral and pecuniary ruin. As
he passed, he raised his hat to Mr. Flamank, who responded with a few
words on the weather.
Herring observed him for a moment or two. Flamank was an excitable
little man, and was specially excited on this occasion. On this
occasion he had brought with him several men of means as well as piety,
whom he particularly desired to secure for Ophir. Their faith was weak.
They were ready enough to believe, with a thin kettle-broth faith, in
any folly that would not cost them money, but when it came to embarking
capital they asked to be established in their faith.
Herring was so kind at heart that, moved by a sudden impulse of pity, he
resolved to give Flamank a chance of extricating himself from the wreck,
unhurt in character if not in pocket. He called the pastor aside, and
asked him to spare him a few moments.
'I am very busy,' said the minister, looking over his shoulder; 'I have
a large party here, I cannot well be spared.'
'Sir, what I have to say to you is of the utmost importance. Send the
party on with the promise of rejoining it. There is no possibility of
their mistaking the way, which is well trampled like that which led to
the den of the sick lion.'
'Very well, as you wish,' answered Israel, resignedly.
When all had departed, and Herring was quite alone with Mr. Flamank, he
told him everything with complete frankness, and assured him of the
total and irretrievable collapse of Ophir within a couple of hours. To
say that the pastor was aghast is to understate the case; and yet he was
unable at once to realise the completeness of the ruin with which he and
Ophir were menaced.
'Nothing will shake my faith in the Phoenicians having been here,' he
said. 'We are expressly told that Ophir lies between Meshaw and
Sheepstor, and this place is exactly halfway between them as the crow
flies.'
'But it is a long flight for the crow, and there are many other places
where Ophir may be found beside this. Here we have distinct evidence of
dishonesty.'
'There is evil always mixed with good, and falsehood is associated with
truth,' sighed Mr. Flamank. 'It may be--of course, as you state you
have seen it, it must be--that there is trickery here, but still Ophir
is somewhere hereabouts.'
'That of course is possible. But we have not now to consider the
whereabouts of Ophir, but the whereabouts of your reputation and your
capital, both sunk in this swindle.' Then the full truth of Herring's
words came home to the Reverend Israel. He sobbed and clasped his hands
convulsively. 'Good Lord!' he moaned, 'avert this blow from me. I am
prostrate! I do not so much mind the loss of all my little savings
intrusted to Trampleasure for the purposes of the mine, as the loss of
my character, the ruin of my influence, the destruction of my position.
I have spoken and written about Ophir, and induced so many to embark
their little means in it! Believing widows and Christian old maids have
ventured their all in Ophir. I have urged them to it, assuring them it
was a sound venture; I have shown them the sure word of prophecy
speaking of Ophir; and now, what will become of them and of me?'
'My purpose is to ride to Launceston and have old Mr. Trampleasure
arrested before he hears the news and can decamp with the money.'
'Oh, Mr. Herring, what is to be done? What can I do to put myself
right?'