retaining his composure, 'than as spokesman for the Countess, who has
empowered me to act in her name. Have I your authority for what I say
and do, Countess?' He turned to Mirelle.
'My full authority,' she answered. 'I have requested you to speak my
wishes in this matter to Mr. Trampleasure. As for his son, I must
request him to efface himself, and not to trouble his head with my
affairs.'
'Go, Sampy,' said his father. 'Good angels attend you.' The young man
withdrew sullenly. 'Now then, Lieutenant Herring, I am at your
service.'
'The Countess wishes that her money, left in your hands as trustee, may
be invested in the mortgages on the West Wyke estate. These mortgages
you hold. Five thousand pounds are owing to you, and you are in
immediate need of the money. Take five thousand of her money, and
transfer to her the claims on West Wyke.'
'Oh, ah! When is she likely to get her interest? You had to help the
Squire out of one hobble, and he will be dropping into another shortly.'
'I can answer for it that the interest will be paid punctually and in
full.'
'I don't approve of the investment. I don't regard it as sound.'
'I wish it,' said Mirelle.
'My dear pet and pearl of the aristocracy,' said the old man, 'I am
solely responsible for what is done with the money. I must look after
your interest in the matter. Why, if I yielded to your request, you
would get only four and a half for your money, and I can assure you of
seven.'
'She would prefer the smaller sum on this security than the larger on
one more risky.'
'Risky, risky! what!--Ophir a risk! My dear Herring, I know better than
you where security lies. The young lady's money will be invested in a
gold mine--in the gold of Ophir! I said seven per cent., but I am
sanguine of a rise to ten, fifteen, twenty, twenty-five. What do you
think of that, eh?'
'Mr. Trampleasure,' said Mirelle, 'if I have any voice in this
matter----'
'You have none--none whatever.'
'And if I particularly entreat you not to run risks with my money in
gold or other mines, but to dispose of it for the relief of the
Battishills----'
'Then I shall turn a deaf ear to you. I am responsible to no one. Your
father has left me supreme judge in the matter, and I shall act as my
own conscience and your interest direct.'
'Surely, Mr. Trampleasure----'
'Surely you cry to a stone wall. I shall discharge the obligation your
father laid on me with strict fidelity. I am a man of wide experience,
and I venture to think that Mr. Herring's knowledge of money investments
is recent and partial. I object to his interference, and, but for the
respect I owe to the memory of his father, Jago Herring, I should resent
it.'
'I have no right, I admit,' said Herring, 'other than that I derive from
an interest in the welfare of both the Countess and the Battishills, and
from the request she has made me to speak in her name and make a
proposal which will benefit both parties.'
'I refuse what is offered,' said Tramplara, his natural insolence
breaking through the varnish of politeness he had assumed. 'I refuse to
be dictated to; and I shall act as I choose with both missie's money and
with that owl of a Squire.'
'One moment,' said Herring, whose cheek was flushed with anger. 'I ask
one question of the Countess. Is it still your wish that the
Battishills be saved from ruin?'
'Certainly I wish it.'
'Allow me to ask further, supposing the means of relieving them were at
your disposal, would you act in the way I have suggested? That is,
supposing you had money independent of Mr. Trampleasure, would you
invest it in the West Wyke mortgages?'
'I would do so.'
'You are quite sure of your own mind?'
'I do not speak without meaning what I say.'
'Then, Mr. Trampleasure, you shall not lay a finger on the estate. It
is safe. The money shall be forthcoming on the day you name to receive
it.'
'Are you going to find it?'
'That in no way concerns you.'
'If you are, you are softer than I supposed.'
'The money will be ready for you.'
Mirelle rose, and, stepping up to Herring, held out her hand. There was
more feeling in her voice and warmth in her hand than before.
'I thank you, Mr. Herring. I am not ungrateful.'
'What for?' asked Tramplara, rudely.
'For crossing your plans,' she said, and turned to look out of the
window at the view.
*CHAPTER XVIII.*
*SALTING A MINE.*
Tramplara paid several visits to Upaver without calling at West Wyke,
sometimes alone and sometimes along with his son. He did more than
visit Upaver; he got some men to break ground there and begin a mine,
without asking permission of the landlord, Mr. Battishill, or letting
him know what he was about. The farmer who rented Upaver held his
tongue.
One day, however, old Tramplara came to West Wyke House, along with a
person whose looks betrayed what he was--a dissenting minister; in fact,
the Reverend Israel Flamank.
Mr. Battishill was by no means pleased to receive Tramplara. A mouse is
not elated at the sight of the cat.
Nothing, however, could be more friendly than the manner of Tramplara.
He was gushing and jovial. He presented his friend Mr. Flamank, under
whom, he said, to his soul's welfare he had sat, one whom he should
always regard as, under Providence, the man who had brought him to
realise the great value of eternity and the infinite nothingness of
to-day. Then followed a great deal of this sort of unctuous flattery,
'laid on with a trowel' and sticking wherever applied. Mr. Battishill
looked on with amused surprise to see how readily Mr. Flamank accepted
the splashes, coarse and thick as they were.
Then Tramplara addressed himself directly to the Squire.
'You must allow me, Battishill, to shake your hand once more; you must
indeed. My friend and shepherd, Flamank, has made a discovery--a
discovery of such moment that I doubt not it will astonish you. That it
will please you, I do not doubt either. Flamank is a divine who has
made prophecy his special study, and his knowledge of Bible history and
geography is simply surprising. By the way, before I tell you what his
find is, will you let me know whether you really propose to pay me back
in full what I advanced some years ago?'
'I shall not be able to do so,' answered Mr. Battishill, 'but a friend
has offered to find the money, and to relieve you of the mortgages.'
'You mean young Herring.'
Mr. Battishill nodded.
'But where the devil'--Mr. Flamank started and looked remonstratingly at
Tramplara--'where in Deuteronomy--I said Deuteronomy,--he can have come
upon the money, I can't think. I did know something about old Jago
Herring, his father, and I thought he had been a plate licked pretty
clean. I did not suppose there was much fat left sticking. But I dare
say the old woman had money.'
'What old woman?'
'Mrs. Jago Herring, the lieutenant's mother. And as there was no
daughter, her money naturally came to him. It is possible that is how
he must have come by it. Where is he now?'
'In London, I believe. He left a week or two ago.'
'I may take it for granted, I suppose, that the money will be
forthcoming?' asked Mr. Trampleasure.
'I do not doubt it. Mr. Herring is a man of his word,' answered the old
Squire.
'I congratulate you, Battishill.' Mr. Battishill winced each time he
was addressed with familiarity. 'I congratulate you. It would have
gone hard with me to sell you up. I would not have done it unless forced
to do so. What drove me to threaten was need of money, and the occasion
of needing it I leave to my reverend friend here to unfold. Whether I am
wise in trusting him, I cannot say. But what is a pastor for but to
lead? But I must open the case, he is too modest to tell the tale, as it
redounds to his honour and is a brilliant example of sagacity. I must
tell you, Battishill, that I have been privileged to attend his Bible
lectures, and he has deeply impressed me with the greatness and
commercial enterprise of the Philistines.'
'Phoenicians, of course,' said Flamank.
'Phoenicians, of course--you see, Squire, I'm not well up in the story.
I follow my guide, but all this lore is puzzling to me. Well, you know
the Phoenicians came to Cornwall to fetch tin and gold, and that
Solomon's servants came along with the servants of Hiram for the
purpose, and they brought the tin and the gold to Jerusalem for the
temple.'
'Mr. Battishill must have heard of the Phoenicians,' said Mr. Flamank,
now on his particular ground, and able to trot. 'From them we derive
clotted cream. It is a singular and significant fact that clotted cream
is made nowhere in the world except in Devon, Cornwall, and Phoenicia.
That is a well-established fact, and it speaks volumes in favour of an
early intercourse between the Cassiterides and the natives of Tyre and
Sidon. The Cassiterides have been for some time identified in the minds
of antiquaries with Devon and Cornwall. The only difficulty in the way
is this. The Cassiterides are described by the ancient geographers as
islands. But the difficulty vanishes when closely considered. The
Phoenicians ascended Brown Willy and Cosdon, and from these heights saw
the sea on both sides, and, not supposing they were in an isthmus, they
hastily and incorrectly concluded they were in an island. But the fact
of clotted cream being found only in Phoenicia and the West of England
is, to my mind, absolutely conclusive. A point not considered by
antiquaries has arrested my attention. The point is, that the Jews came
with the Phoenicians, and that they actually formed permanent
settlements in our West Country.'
'Jews, Jews!' put in Tramplara: 'they would go after tin anywhere.'
'Look at Marazion,' continued Mr. Flamank; 'the Bitter Waters of Zion.
The place bears the stamp of its origin in its name. There is Port
Isaac, also, no doubt named after the patriarch, and Jacobstow, and,
touching memorial, Davidstow, so called after the sweet psalmist by the
servants of his son Solomon. There is a hamlet of Herodsfoot, and a
village of Issey, that is, Isaiah, and St. Sampson, after the strongest
of men. Still more remarkable is the fact of the Israelitish colonists
founding a parish which they called Temple, because they were at the
time engaged on building that wondrous structure in Jerusalem. Redruth
derives its name from the ancestress of David, and we still speak of
sending persons to Jericho, which is a farm not far distant from
Launceston. A careful study of the Scriptures led me some time ago to
this conclusion, that what the profane writers call the Cassiterides
are, in the sacred page, called Ophir.'
'Ophir--"over the sea and far away!" You recall the text, Squire,'
interjected Tramplara.
'Our friend's familiarity with the Scriptures is late, and not as
accurate as might be desired,' apologised Mr. Flamank, with a look of
pity cast at Tramplara. 'Suffice it that, led by a delicate chain of
evidence as clear and unmistakable as that of clotted cream, I was led
to seek Ophir in these western counties. You will recall that the
inspired penman lays down the situation of Ophir with great nicety. It
lies between Mesha and Sephar. Now Mesha is undeniably Meshaw in North
Devon, and Sephar is Sheepstor in South Devon. Draw a line between
Meshaw and Sheepstor, and it passes over Cosdon.'
'Why, bless my heart,' exclaimed Mr. Battishill, 'you are not going to
find Ophir here!'
'We have found it,' said the dissenting minister, gleefully. 'The
identification is complete. Do you happen to see my "Western
Cornucophir"?'
'Cornucophir, what is that?'
'My paper--a monthly originally entitled the Cornucopia, because of the
abundance of good things it contained. When this surprising discovery
dawned on me, I changed the name to Cornucophir--Cornu, for Cornubia,
Cornwall, and Ophir, for the Land of Gold. The combination is happy.'
'But you are looking for Ophir in Devon, not in Cornwall.'
'Devon was included in Cornwall till the time of Athelstan, who drove
the Britons back over the Tamar, and restricted them to Cornwall.
Tamar'--Mr. Flamank paused and rubbed his hands--'there again, the river
called after the daughter of David and twin sister of Absalom. Having
arrived at this remarkable discovery by an exhaustive process and
irrefragable evidence, in which every step is capable of being
demonstrated with mathematical certainty to Christian believers, I
begged Mr. Trampleasure, who has wide experience in mines----'
'Polpluggan,' groaned Mr. Battishill.
'As in Polpluggan, as you rightly observe, to examine the line between
Meshaw and that mountain in the east, Sheepstor. Mr. Trampleasure is
not as sanguine in this matter as I am. He is hard to be convinced even
now; I am not sure that his faith is firm. Whilst we were discussing
the nature of the land between Meshaw and Sheepstor--he resolutely
refused to explore the red sandstone and clay land, maintaining that
gold is never found except in the proximity of granite--he told me of a
farm of yours called Ophir.'
'Ophir!' exclaimed the old gentleman; 'I have no such farm.'
'Excuse me,' said Mr. Flamank: 'you have, and I have been over it
myself, exploring the ground for gold.'
'I believe you call the place Upaver,' said Tramplara, with a twinkle in
his eye, which watched the Squire intently.
'Upaver! You have not been hunting up my silver lead mine, have you?'
'Silver lead, no!' answered the pastor; 'we have been hunting for gold.'
'But this is stark nonsense,' exclaimed Mr. Battishill; 'the place never
was called Ophir. It is, and always has been, Upaver.'
'Upaver and Ophir are all the same, just as Sheepstor is the same as
Sephar. I asked the farmer the name of the place, and without
hesitation he said that he minded in old times it was called Ophir, but
that the maps spell it with an _U_.'
'He has not been fifteen years on the farm, and I have been here
seventy.'
'He has heard from the oldest inhabitant.'
'I am the oldest inhabitant,' protested Mr. Battishill. 'I can show
you, moreover, leases of a hundred and two hundred years ago, in which
it is called Upaver.'
'The leases were drawn up by lawyers ignorant of the pronunciation of
the name. What the farmer told me was confirmed by another man, an old
wild-looking creature, almost a savage. He also said the place wras
called Ophir, and he clenched his statement with a dreadful imprecation
on all those who called it otherwise. What is more, he showed me a
silver coin he had found, and I bought it of him for five shillings. If
you will examine it, you will see Hebrew characters on it. I have seen
this coin figured in Commentaries on the Bible; on the obverse a vase,
the pot of manna, I presume, on the reverse a flower, Aaron's blooming
rod. It is a shekel. Now I ask you, how came a shekel to be found at
Ophir unless the Israelites had been there to drop it?'
Mr. Battishill took the coin, and turned it over in his hand. He was
puzzled.
'That man you describe is old Grizzly Cobbledick, who lives under the
Giant's Table.'
'I have seen the Giant's Table. It is an Israelitish monument, a
Gilgal. There are many such in Cornwall, as well as upright stones--the
same that Jacob set up and anointed with oil.'
'There are plenty of these upright stones on Dartmoor,' said Mr.
Battishill. 'On the side of Belstone Tor is a circle called the Nine
Maidens. The story goes that they were damsels so fond of dancing that
they would not desist on the Sunday, and in consequence were turned to
stone. And it is said that even now on Sunday at noon the stones come
to life and dance thrice round in a circle.'
'I must make a note of this for my article in the "Western Cornucophir."
I pray you to observe the continuance of Sabbatical ideas, an evidence
of Jewish teaching; and of the resistance to it on Belston Tor, a
mountain dedicated to Bel or Baal, the Sun God of the Phoenicians.'
'But you are holding back from Mr. Battishill the most important
discovery of all,' said Tramplara, who saw that the old gentleman was
not much impressed by the biblical and antiquarian theories of his
visitor.
'At my request, and against his own convictions,' continued Mr. Flamank,
'my good friend Trampleasure searched Ophir for gold. A more qualified
person could not have been found, for he is thoroughly conversant with
the metals and their ores. He brought me one day some sand, granite
washings, with grains in it that certainly looked like gold. We tested
them with nitric acid, and, sure enough, they proved to be gold. I had
no rest in my mind till I had persuaded Mr. Trampleasure to accompany me
to Ophir, and to assist me in the examination of the place. He conducted
me to the spot where he had found the gravel, and there we searched and
I found this.'
He held out some shining yellow cubes.
'That is mundic,' said Mr. Battishill; 'it looks like gold, but is
worthless.'
'So Mr. Trampleasure said. He laughed at me for my mundic find, but I
could hardly be convinced that it was not gold. However, later, I found
these grains. Here they are in my kerchief, with the quartz and mica as
I took them up. I did not find much, but still, enough to show that the
metal is present.'
He spread out his handkerchief on the table. In the midst of the coarse
white gravel were certain yellow granules that looked like gold.
'You found this in Upaver valley?' asked Mr. Battishill, in great
surprise.
'Yes, I was more successful than Trampleasure. But then I worked in
faith, and he was dubious, so I dare say looked with less eagerness.'
'This is very extraordinary,' said the old gentleman. 'I never
suspected the existence of gold on my property.'
'Why not?' asked Trampleasure. 'Gold is always found in connection with
granite.'
'That is true; but none has been found hitherto in Devon.'
'And yet the whole valley has been streamed by miners in olden times.
Their mounds of refuse are traceable all the way to the source of the
stream. No gold has been sought because none was expected to be found.
The Bible has led me, by a course of inductive evidence, to the
identical spot whence came the gold that overlaid the temple, and that
made the shields with which Solomon adorned the walls of his palace.'
'Whence that gold was got, more gold must be obtainable,' put in
Tramplara; 'especially with our modern appliances.'
'It is most amazing,' said Mr. Battishill. 'Bless me! I wish I were
well enough to get out; but I am stricken, and can only creep about with
the aid of a stick. I should like myself to examine the place where you
say you found the gold.'
'Surely you cannot doubt my word,' said Mr. Flamank. 'I can give you
the best possible proof of my sincerity. I am ready to embark my little
savings to the last penny in the mines of Ophir, if you will consent to
their being worked.'
'I have no objection whatever, so long as I am not asked to risk any
money in them myself.'
'Look you here, Squire,' said Tramplara; 'let us strike whilst the iron
is hot. I am as anxious as the Reverend Flamank about Ophir. You can
lose nothing, and may make a pot of money. I have brought with me a
lease; read it. I will pay you a yearly rental of a hundred pounds, and
you shall have the usual royalties on the gold raised, Then I will
undertake to form a company to work the mines of Ophir. Not one penny
can you lose by it. If you choose to take shares you may run some risk,
not otherwise. If the mine proves a success, your fortune will be made,
and so will mine, and those other lucky devils----'
'Lucky what?' inquired the startled pastor.
'Lucky devotees, I said. I said devotees distinctly. Those lucky
devotees who took shares in Ophir. "Out of the hills ye shall dig
brass," said the great lawgiver, and his prophecy will be fulfilled, for
brass in colloquial English means money.'
Tramplara took a lease out of his pocket and opened it before Mr.
Battishill.
'Read it--nothing can be fairer.'
'Father,' said Cicely, who had come in, 'please do nothing till Mr.
Herring returns. Take his advice before signing any document.'
'Nonsense, my dear; I can lose nothing. I shall not take a share, and I
may gain thousands of pounds.'
'If you will work the mine yourself, do so,' said Tramplara: 'if not,
let us work it. The religious public is already screwed up to a pitch of
screaming excitement. The "Western Cornucopia"----'
'"Cornucophir," corrected the pastor. 'Besides, I object to the term
screaming excitement.'
'It is allegorical and Oriental--Phoenician, in fact,' explained
Tramplara. 'The "Cornucophir" has been leading them on week by week,
expecting the discovery of Ophir. Now all is ready for the announcement
that it has been found, and with that announcement we must publish the
prospectus of the Ophir Gold Mining Company. If you do not accept my
terms, all I can say is, the place will be invaded by religious
gold-diggers, who will turn everything topsy-turvy and carry off every
particle of gold they find without giving you any share in their spoil.'
'I will sign the lease; it is only for a year,' said Mr. Battishill,
eagerly; 'but I can take no shares, I have not the money.'
'I will take as many as I can,' said the minister. 'Ophir must
succeed.'
'Now then!' shouted Tramplara, waving the lease over his head. 'Now for
the run of gold. Blow the trumpet in Zion; call the solemn assembly of
sharetakers together. I shall be ready for them with my crushing
machines. Hoorah for the gold of Ophir, and the fortunes that will be
made out of it!'
*CHAPTER XIX.*
*TWO STRINGS TO ONE BOW.*
Captain Trecarrel had the good luck to find Mirelle alone in the garden
house, engaged on her flowers. She had not been taught to do useful
work. She cut out lace patterns in paper, and made imitation flowers.
She could play and sing, but there was no piano in the garden house, and
she spent most of her time there, so as to be away from the rooms
frequented by Trampleasure senior and junior.
Captain Trecarrel was playing his cards very carefully. He did not
intend to be off altogether with the old love till he was quite sure
that it was to his pecuniary advantage to be on with the new. He was
curious to know in what Mirelle's money had been invested. This was not
easy for him to find out. He could not inquire of old Tramplara.
After turning the matter over in his head, the Captain resolved on
trying to ascertain what he desired to know through Mirelle herself, who
was too simple to suspect his purpose.
He took a seat by her in the window. She smiled at him, and made room
beside her.
'I have been thinking a great deal about you, Mirelle,' said he. He had
slipped into calling her by her Christian name, and she did not resent
it. 'And the more I think of you, the more I pity you. Your poor dear
father made a sore mistake in confiding you to the care of these
Trampleasures.'
'They were his relations,' she said.
'True; but then you are so utterly out of place among them. You are
unable to sympathise with them----'
'Fortunately.'
'Fortunately, indeed, or you would not be charming. A grievous error
has been committed, I may even say that a great wrong has been done you,
unintentionally, and the consequence is that you suffer. I see it in
your face.'