The Vicar's People Part 26

"Do you want to frighten poor mother?" exclaimed Bess, hastily. "Don't mind what he says, Mr Trethick," she continued; "mother is so glad for you to come--it makes such a change; but father won't believe you come on purpose to see her."

"Then what does he suppose I come for?" said Geoffrey, sitting down on a rough bench by the path. "Does he--Oh! I see," he said, laughing; "he thinks it's to see you, Miss Bess. Why, Prawle, Prawle," he continued, getting up and clapping the old man on the shoulder, "what a queer set of people you are down here!"

Bess changed colour a little as she heard the visitor's half-contemptuous tone when he alluded to her, but she forced a smile, and spoke out firmly,--

"Yes, Mr Trethick, that's what he thinks."

"Then he was never more mistaken in his life," cried Geoffrey. "Here, come and sit down, old man, and we'll smoke a pipe together till mother wakes, and then I'll buy some sweets and be off again; but I want a talk with you. Amos Pengelly says you know more about the mines here than most men."

"Maybe I do, sir," growled Prawle, surlily, and apparently only half convinced.

"Sit down then, man, and speak out honestly. What do you know about Wheal Carnac?"

"Wheal Carnac!" said the old man, starting. "What do I know about it?

Nothing at all--nothing at all."

"Fill your pipe. Sit down and light up."

Prawle hesitated for a moment, and glanced at his daughter, then back at their visitor, and ended by sitting down on the bench and knocking the ashes from his pipe to refill it from the tobacco brought by his visitor; while Bess, in whose eyes the tears were gathering, turned away and softly peeped into the cottage.

"That's better," said Geoffrey, as both pipes were lit, and they sat under the grey and purple cliff facing the sparkling sea. "Amos Pengelly says he believes you have a good deal of faith in that mine."

"Amos Pengelly's a psalm-singing, chattering fool," said the old man, angrily.

"No he isn't," said Geoffrey; "he's a very good, honest, sensible fellow."

Bess turned sharply round and looked curiously at him.

"Bah! what does he know 'bout what I think?" growled Prawle.

"I don't know; but he tells me you worked in it."

Prawle nodded.

"Well, you must have seen a good deal of what the rock is like."

"Like rubbish," said the old man, hastily. "Thousands have been wasted there, and thousands more will be by anybody who's fool enough to work it."

"Humph?" said Geoffrey, between two puffs of smoke, "perhaps so. Is that your honest opinion?"

As he spoke he gazed full in the old man's eyes, which met his without flinching for a few moments, but only to sink before the searching gaze and take refuge on the ground.

"Never you mind what's my honest opinion. I'm not an Amos Pengelly to go and chatter about my affairs."

"A still tongue makes a wise head, Master Prawle," said Geoffrey, "even about little smuggling and wrecking jobs."

"What do you know about smuggling and wrecking?" cried Prawle, angrily.

"Very little," said Geoffrey, "only this cove looks to me about as convenient a place as well could be for any little job of that sort."

"Mother's awake, Mr Trethick," interposed Bess, as she saw her father's wrath rising at Geoffrey's bantering comment.

"I'll come directly," said Geoffrey, as he saw her appealing look.

"There, I won't joke you about your private affairs, Master Prawle. So you won't tell me any thing about Wheal Carnac?"

"Not a word," said the old man, angrily.

"Not this time," said Geoffrey, rising, "but think it over. Now, Miss Bessie, how is our invalid to-day?"

Mrs Prawle's face lit up as Geoffrey's form darkened the door, and she held out her thin white hand eagerly, as, in his bluff way, her visitor asked after her health.

"Very sadly, sir, very sadly," she said, turning a fresh article of attire and spreading it upon her knees; "but do you--do you want--I'm so glad to do a little to save being a burthen to them."

"Want sweets?" said Geoffrey. "Yes, I've got a commission to spend a whole sixpence; and see here, Miss Bessie, above half are to be those transparent red gentlemen."

He looked merrily in the girl's face, little thinking of the pain he gave her, and how her woman's vanity was touched by his utter indifference. She smiled back, however, filled a paper bag with what he required, and went out to resume her knitting by the door, while Geoffrey sat on chatting, and listening to the poor woman's plaints.

"She's such a good girl, my Bess," she said, proudly, as her mother's heart throbbed high at the thought of what a thing it would be if this well-spoken gentleman from London should take a fancy to her child, and raise her to his position.

"Yes, she seems to be," said Geoffrey, little suspecting her thoughts.

"So patient and so good; and you will not heed what they say about us, sir?"

"Not I," said Geoffrey.

"They say, you know, that she's almost a wise woman; and they've been very bitter against us ever since Mrs Polwhyn's cow died."

"Indeed!"

"Oh yes," said the poor woman, earnestly; "they say Bess ill-wished it, and that she has ill-wished Mrs Vorr's boy, who is a cripple."

"You are a curious set of people down here," said Geoffrey; "but do you mean to tell me that they believe such things as that?"

"Indeed they do," said the poor woman, with tears in her eyes.

"And about witches?"

"Oh yes," she said, laying her hand on the big Bible by her side; "and, of course, that is true, sir. You know King Saul went to see the witch of Endor."

"Yes," said Geoffrey, dryly.

"But it is too bad about my poor Bess, who is such a good and patient girl, and waits upon me day and night. He'll be a lucky man who wins her for a wife!"

"I'm sure he will," said Geoffrey.

"Then they say such cruel things about Prawle, and call him wrecker and smuggler."

"Well," said Geoffrey, laughing, "I wouldn't swear he has never helped the landing of any thing in the cove."