"It is," replied the old man, eyeing his interrogator suspiciously.
"Allow me to introduce myself, sir--Oliver Trembath, nephew to Mr
Thomas Donnithorne of St. Just."
Mr Hitchin held out his hand, and said that he was happy to meet with a
nephew of his old friend, in the tone of a man who would much rather not
meet either nephew or uncle.
Oliver felt this, so he put on his most insinuating air, and requested
Mr Hitchin to walk with him a little aside from the crowd, as he had
something of a private nature to say to him. The old man agreed, and
the two walked slowly along the sands to the outskirts of the crowd,
where young Tregarthen discreetly left them.
The moment Oliver broached the subject of the advance of money, Hitchin
frowned, and the colour in his face betrayed suppressed anger.
"Sir," said he, "I know all that you would say to me. It has already
been said oftener than there is any occasion for. No one appears to
believe me when I assert that I have met with heavy losses of late, and
have no cash to spare--not even enough to pay my debts."
"Indeed, sir," replied Oliver, "I regret to hear you say so, and I can
only apologise for having troubled you on the subject. I assure you
nothing would have induced me to do so but regard for my uncle, to whom
the continuance of this mine for some time would appear to be a matter
of considerable importance; but since you will not--"
"_Wilt_ not!" interrupted Hitchin angrily, "have I not said _can not_?
I tell you, young man, that there is a scoundrel to whom I owe a large
sum for--for--well, no matter what it's for, but the blackguard
threatens that if I don't--pshaw!--"
The old man seemed unable to contain himself at this point, for he
turned angrily away from Oliver, and, hastening back towards the town,
was soon lost again in the crowd.
Oliver was so taken by surprise, that he stood still gazing dreamily at
the point where Hitchin had disappeared, until he was roused by a touch
on the shoulder from Charlie Tregarthen.
"Well," said he, smiling, "how fares your suit?"
Oliver replied by a burst of laughter.
"How fares my suit?" he repeated; "badly, very badly indeed; why, the
old fellow's monkey got up the moment I broached the subject, and I was
just in the middle of what I meant to be a most conciliating speech,
when he flung off as you have seen."
"Odd, very odd," said Tregarthen, "to see how some men cling to their
money, as if it were their life. After all, it _is_ life to some--at
least all the life they have got."
"Come now, don't moralise, Charlie, for we must act just now."
"I'm ready to act in any way you propose, Oliver; what do you intend to
do? Issue your commands, and I'll obey. Shall we attack the village of
Newlyn single-handed, and set fire to it, as did the Spaniards of old,
or shall we swim off to the fleet of boats, cut the cables, bind the men
in charge, and set sail for the mackerel fishing?"
"Neither, my chum, and especially not the latter, seeing that a
thundercloud is about to break over the sea ere long, if I do not
greatly misjudge appearances in the sky; but, man, we must see this
testy old fellow again, and warn him of the danger which threatens him.
I feel assured that that rascal Cuttance means him harm, for he let
something fall in his anger, which, coupled with what we have already
heard from the smuggler himself, and from Tonkin, convinces me that evil
is in the wind. Now the question is, how are we to find him, for
searching in that crowd is almost useless?"
"Let us go to his house," suggested Tregarthen, "and if he is not at
home, wait for him."
"Do you know where his house is?"
"No, not I."
"Then we must inquire, so come along."
Pushing once more through the throng of busy men and women, the friends
ascended the sloping causeway that led to the village, and here asked
the first man they met where Mr Hitchin lived.
"Right over top o' hill," replied the man.
"Thank you. That'll do, Charlie, come along," said Oliver, turning into
one of the narrow passages that diverged from the main street of Newlyn,
and ascending the hill with giant strides; "one should never be
particular in their inquiries after a place. When I'm told to turn to
the right after the second turning to the left, and that if I go right
on till I come to some other turning, that will conduct me point blank
to the street that enters the square near to which lies the spot I wish
to reach, I'm apt to get confused. Get a general direction if possible,
the position indicated by compass is almost enough, and _ask again_.
That's my plan, and I never found it fail."