As Geoffrey rattled the garden gate he heard a rustle at one of the
windows, and, looking up, there was Madge ready to welcome him with a
smile.
"Oh! you're there, are you, madam," he said to himself. "How are you?"
He nodded to her civilly enough, and was going on to the house, when
from out of the look-out there came a rough "Hallo!"
"Hallo, old gentleman!" said Geoffrey, and, turning aside, he entered
the summer-house, where Uncle Paul sat smoking, cane in hand, with which
he pointed up towards the window where Madge had been.
"Why didn't you kiss your hand at her, eh?" snarled Uncle Paul.
"Didn't think of it, old fellow," replied Geoffrey, coolly.
"I've warned you about it, you know," said the old man, angrily. "Well,
have you seen Penwynn?"
"Yes."
"And what has he got to say?"
"Given the instructions."
"To go back to London? Well, I'm glad of it; very glad of it."
"Thank you," said Geoffrey, lighting his pipe. "No, old gentleman, I've
got my first job, and now I'm going to work."
"What, smoking?"
"Yes, engine-fire smoking soon, I hope."
"What, are you going to spend somebody's money over a mine?"
"Yes."
"Then it will be smoke. Whose money--a company's?"
"Business is business, Mr Paul," said Geoffrey. "I can't tell you
whose money is going to be spent, for I don't believe I know. But I'll
tell you this much, I'm going to open out Wheal Carnac."
"Wheal Carnac?"
"Yes, and at once."
"Then--but bah! it don't matter, you'll be paid. My hundred's gone, so
its nothing to me."
They sat smoking in silence, for Geoffrey returned such short answers
that the old man was offended, and scarcely a word was said. After a
time, Geoffrey took out a note-book and began to make entries and draw,
without noticing how intently his companion was watching him, and this
went on till Mrs Mullion came and announced that the young engineer's
composite tea-dinner was ready, to which he went in without a word.
"Nice company he's getting," said Uncle Paul, sourly. "Humph! he can
be busy enough, now I want him. Here, hi! Trethick!" he shouted across
the passage when he went in, "I'm going down to Rumsey's to-night.
We're going to play whist. Come with me?"
"No, thanks," said Geoffrey. "I've got other cards to play now."
"Hang him and his independence! What a nuisance! And he plays such a
good hand. I meant to have him for a partner. Well, never mind, if
he's busy like that it will keep him from thinking about Madge. Hallo!"
he exclaimed, as he heard the gate click, "that girl's off again. I
wonder where she's going now?"
He returned to his own tea, and before it was finished there was another
click, when, on looking up curiously, it was to see Pengelly come
limping up the path.
"Humph! we shall have the house full of miners now, I suppose. Ah,
well, thank goodness, it isn't my money that's going to be sunk."
Pengelly was admitted, and his first act, on being left alone with
Geoffrey, was to catch his hand, and hold it tightly between both of
his.
"Why, Pengelly man, what's the matter?" cried Geoffrey, wondering at his
strange manner.
"I've heard all, Mr Trethick, every word. I've heard all."
"All? All what?" cried Geoffrey.
"About those wretches--those blind, weak wretches--and my poor injured
Bess."
"Oh!" cried Geoffrey, "I'd forgotten all about it, man. Bah! that's
nothing."
"Nothing?" cried Pengelly, with the tears standing in his eyes,
"nothing? Mr Trethick, sir, if you'd let me be your dog, I'd follow
you to the world's end."
"Oh, come, come, Pengelly! don't think any more of that. How is she,
though?"
"Better now, sir, and she told me all about it, and how brave you had
been. God bless her! she spoke kinder to me than she had ever spoke
before."
"I'm glad she was not much hurt, Pengelly. Poor weak-minded fools, what
a charge to get up against her! But come, pass that over. I've news
for you, Pengelly. I'm going to pump out Wheal Carnac."
"You are?" cried Pengelly, joyfully.
"I am."
"Then your fortune's made."
"Is it?" said Geoffrey, laughing. "Well, my lad, can you leave your
present work for a week or two, and come and help me a little?"
"If you'll have me to help you, Mr Trethick, there's no work in the
world shall keep me back; and, what's more, I swear to you that I'll
never leave you till Wheal Carnac's the greatest paying mine in West
Cornwall."
"Come, that's cheering, Pengelly," said Geoffrey, laughing. "Why, you
are more sanguine than ever."
"Sanguine, sir? No, it's sureness, that's what my feeling is;" and,
sitting down at Geoffrey's request, he was soon going into
business-matters with him--where to obtain temporary pumping gear, chain
and buckets, wheels, and the like, their planning taking so long that it
was past nine when Pengelly rose to go.
"I should like to stretch my legs too, Pengelly," said Geoffrey. "I'll
walk down with you. What do you say to getting a lantern, and having a
look round the place to-night?"
"I can get a lantern," cried Pengelly, eagerly; and they went out
together, meeting Madge just outside the gate, and she hurried by them
with bended head, but Geoffrey hardly noticed her, being intent upon his
mission.
A lantern was obtained, and matches, and they were soon down upon the
shore, climbing along the rough path towards the promontory upon which,
just dimly seen against the sky-line, stood out the dark, weird-looking
engine-house. The foam that broke upon the rocks at the promontory's
base was all aglow now with phosphorescent light, which rose and fell,
and flashed with a wondrous brilliancy.
"Poor night for the fisher lads, sir," said Pengelly.
"Indeed! why?"
"Their nets will be all a-light with the brime, sir, and every thread
will stand out in the deep water, as if afire, and not a fish will go
near."
They clambered on, higher and higher, till they reached the
engine-house, into which they proposed to go, and there light the
lantern.
"If they see us from the harbour, what will they think?" said Geoffrey.
"That we are ghosts or demons, the weak creatures," cried Pengelly,
scornfully. "It will keep them away: not a man will come near if they
see our light. Keep this way, sir, you are getting too near the shaft."
Geoffrey hastily altered his position, and closely following Pengelly he
entered the great engine-house behind him, and then stood waiting while
the lame miner struck a match, which blazed up, and then he dropped it,
for there, plainly seen in the momentary glare, stood a dark,
strange-looking figure, within a few feet of a heap of stones.
In spite of his manhood, Geoffrey felt a chill run through him, for seen
in that momentary light the aspect of the figure was so weird and
strange.
"It's only a man!" exclaimed Pengelly, rapidly striking a second match,
and holding it to the candle in the lantern. "Hey, Master Prawle! what
are you doing here?"
As he spoke he threw the light full upon the old smuggler's rugged
features, Prawle growling the while as he began to fill a blackened
pipe.
"What am I doing here, Amos Pengelly? Why, filling my pipe."
"And playing ghost to frighten honest men, Prawle, eh? I say, old
fellow," cried Geoffrey, "we've got you on the right spot, so you may as
well speak out all you know."
"All I know?" said Prawle. "I don't know nothing, only that I come for
a walk, and stepped in here to light my pipe."
"Light your pipe, eh?" cried Geoffrey, laughing.
"Yes," said Prawle, spitefully, "and found you courting."
"Found me?" exclaimed Geoffrey. "Why, I've been with Amos Pengelly
these two hours. Eh, Amos?"
"Ah, well, if it warn't you it were somebody else. What do you want
here?" growled the old fellow.
"Oh! we've come in to light our pipes," said Geoffrey, laughing.
Prawle growled, and, after a furtive look round, turned to go.
"Warn't you two here 'bout two hour ago?" he said, sharply.
"No; neither of us," replied Geoffrey. "But come, Prawle, let us two be
a little more friendly. Why can't you speak out? If you will be frank
and honest with me, I'll make it worth your while."
"I don't want you to make it worth no whiles of mine," growled Prawle.
"I can get my living, I dessay."
"Of course you can, man; but other people have got to get theirs. Sit
down now, and let's have a talk. Let's hear all you know about the
mine."
"What mine? This mine? Wheal Carnac?" said Prawle, quickly. "Nothing;
nothing at all. Only everybody's ruined who takes it. Why?"
"Only that I'm going to work it," said Geoffrey, "and it might be worth
your while to tell me all you know."
"Work it? You going to work it?" cried Prawle, eagerly. "You?"
"Yes: I," said Geoffrey. "Now then, what do you say? Will you help
me?"
The old man stood scowling and blinking at them in the dim light shed by
the lantern, and as his eyes rested upon Geoffrey they seemed less
fierce in their gaze; but his face grew very rugged again, as he
exclaimed,--
"I can't help you. I know nothing about the place. What are you going
to do? When are you going to begin?"
"My dear Mr Prawle," said Geoffrey, "I invited you to cooperate with
me, and you declined. Now will you allow me to show you the door.
Pengelly, let me hold the lantern for Mr Prawle to see his way. Pray
take care, Mr Prawle, and don't make a mistake about the shaft. It is
not fenced in. Your life is valuable, you know. Good-night."
Geoffrey smilingly held the lantern for the old man to see his way, and
Prawle looked at him in a puzzled fashion, as if not knowing what to
make of his speech. One moment he seemed disposed to resent it; the
next he took it in good part, and, as he got outside, after looking
suspiciously from one to the other, he said, hastily, as if ashamed of
his weakness,--
"I don't want to quarrel, but don't you have nothing to do with this
pit. It's a bad un--a bad un, and has ruined scores. Thanky for
helping my Bess."
The next moment he was gone.
"Pleasant style of man, your father-in-law-to-be, Pengelly," said
Geoffrey, coolly, as he returned with the miner into the engine-house.
"What was he doing here?"
"I can't quite make out, sir," said Pengelly, thoughtfully. "He always
was fond of hanging about here of a night, as if jealous that any one
should notice the place."
"Bit of smuggling--hiding-place?" suggested Geoffrey.
"I've thought that sometimes, sir, and sometimes I've thought there was
another reason. He's a strange old fellow in his ways."
"Yes, there's no doubt about that," said Geoffrey. "But what have you
got there?"
Pengelly had just stooped and picked up a fragment of stone, which
glittered as he held it to the lantern.
"Bit o' tin, sir, and I was wondering how it come here."
Geoffrey took the piece of rough ore and examined it.
"Why, it is perfectly fresh," he said. "That fracture has been made
quite lately."
"Yes," said Pengelly, nodding, "it's quite new, sir. The old man knows
more than he'll own to. He's been chipping about here to-night with a
hammer; I know, and this is some of his work."
They looked about amongst the _debris_, but could find nothing more for
some time, till, climbing a little way up the heap of granite scraps
that had been evidently dislodged when the machinery was moved, Pengelly
uttered an exclamation.
"What have you found?" cried Geoffrey, as he saw the miner hold down the
light.
"It's what I said, sir," exclaimed Pengelly. "Look, sir, he's been
chipping and hammering here. Depend upon it the old man knows the
mine's rich."
"But he wouldn't be chipping the old stones here," said Geoffrey,
examining the fragments, which looked as if some one had been hammering
up some pieces of ore.
"It's some he found and brought in," said Pengelly. "He's a regular old
fox, sir, and you see by and by when he finds we are going right, if he
don't come to us--to you I mean, sir--and offer to sell what he knows."
"And, perhaps, by that time we shall have found it out. Eh, Pengelly?"
"We'll try, sir," replied the miner; and then together they had a good
look round the place, making plans for the fixing of the necessary
machinery, Geoffrey growing more and more satisfied with the earnestness
and sagacity of his companion, who seemed to throw himself heart and
soul into the work in hand. Then, after appointing to meet in good time
the next morning, they made their way back to the cliff and separated.
"This has been an eventful day," said Geoffrey, as, after softly letting
himself in with the key that he had taken, he quietly took off his heavy
boots, and, slippers in hand, stole up-stairs to his bedroom.
As he reached the door, however, a faint sob reached his ear, and as he
stood listening it was very evident that some one was in grievous
trouble, sobbing and crying as if her heart would break.
"That must be Miss Madge!" said Geoffrey to himself. "Poor wench! the
course of her true love does not seem to run very smooth. Well, I can't
comfort her, and they say that a good cry always does a woman good. So,
my dear, you must have your good cry and get better. I'm afraid that
women are very silly things if they are not sisters or mothers."
He said the words rather cynically, but, after undressing, he lay there
thinking a good deal about Madge Mullion and her love affairs; then
about Bess Prawle and her witchcrafts, laughing so heartily at the
people's folly that the bed rattled; then, lastly, Wheal Carnac filled
his mind, and, sleeping or waking, he could think of nothing but pumping
machinery, the emptying of the shaft, and the coming of the hour when he
should be the first to go down to inspect the place, and then was it to
be fortune or disappointment, success or failure?
In this instance it was to be sleep, for at length his regular, low
breathing told of a weary man's rest; while, just at the end of the
passage, Madge Mullion's flushed face was full of pain, her soft auburn
hair was tangled, and the pillow soaked with tears.