The Vicar's People Part 82

"You be quiet," continued the old man, holding the bill against the mossy rock, so that the light from the lantern fell upon the big letters.

"Here you are, you see--To be sold by auction, at the M, A, R, T, Mart, Token-house-yard, unless pre--vi--ously disposed of by private contract."

"Don't I tell you it half drives me mad to think of the mine being sold?"

"With all the pumping and other gear, nearly new engines, and modern machinery," read on old Prawle.

"Are you doing this to tantalise me, Prawle?" cried Geoffrey. "The whole affair will go for a song."

"To be sure," chuckled the old man. "That's what I've been waiting for, my lad--for a song, a mere song, eh?"

"It's horrible!" cried Geoffrey, despairingly, "when there's tin enough there--"

"Hang the tin, I tell you! It's grand, boy, grand. Look, Mr Trethick, go up to London and buy it."

"Buy it?" said Geoffrey.

"Yes; buy it for as little as you can get it for."

"What, to sell the machinery out of it? No, that I won't."

"Nay, nay, to work it, lad. Buy it, and you and me will make fortunes, eh?"

"I tell you that your plan's worse than useless. The ore is far below the level to which we should get the water."

"Give's your hand, Trethick," said the old man, sharply. "Will you swear that you'll play fair with me?"

"If you like," said Geoffrey.

"I'll take your word without a swear," said the old man. "Shake hands, lad."

Geoffrey carelessly gave him his hand, which the old man gripped.

"Now look here," he said, "I'll trust you, and I'll find you the money to go and buy that mine."

"But it will be throwing your money away," said Geoffrey.

"Then I'll throw it away," cried old Prawle. "I want Wheal Carnac, and I've always meant to have her. Now then, will you go and buy her for me, and work her for me afterwards on shares?"

"Yes, if you like," said Geoffrey, sadly. "We might, perhaps, hit upon something; and anyhow I don't think you will have to pay so much that you would lose."

"Go and buy her for me, then. As soon as we get back you shall go up to London and buy her for me as cheap as you can. You can go to the old lawyer I'll tell you of for the money to pay down, as much as is wanted, and then just you come back to me and I'll talk to you about what I mean to do."

"Very good," said Geoffrey, "I will; but it means a good bit of money."

"You buy it," said old Prawle; "and whatever you do, don't let it go; but buy it as cheaply as you can."

Geoffrey stood looking at the old man for a few minutes, and in those few minutes his whole connection with the mine seemed to pa.s.s in review before him; and as it did, he asked himself whether he should be doing right in letting the old man invest his money like this.

"Well," said Prawle, "what are you thinking about?"

"You," he said sharply. "Suppose, when you have spent your savings on this mine, it should turn out a dead failure?"

"Well, what then?"

"You would lose something."

"Well, I know that, don't I? Do you suppose I'm a babby? There, I've bided my time, my lad, and I know what I'm doing. Are you ready?"

"Yes," said Geoffrey.

"And you'll stick to me, my lad, when the mine's my property?"

"I will, Prawle," said Geoffrey, earnestly, as he shook off his forebodings; "and, somehow or another, I'll make it pay."

"That'll do, my lad; we understand one another, and you won't repent it.

Just give one more look at your compa.s.s."

Geoffrey did so.

"Now then, you feel pretty sure you can hit the workings from here?"

"Yes, I feel certain," said Geoffrey; "and it will relieve the mine without pumping, but not so that we can get the tin."

"That'll do," said the old man, nodding. "Come along."

He led the way to the boat, and once more kneeling in her bows, he directed their way along the subterranean pa.s.sage, while Geoffrey leaned back in the stern watching him, and thinking that if he had been an artist he would have desired no better suggestion for a picture of Charon ferrying some unfortunate soul across the Styx, so weird and darksome was their way, so strange and gloomy the shadows cast, till once more in the distance appeared a faint gleam of light playing upon the surface of the water. Then the low arch came into view, and soon after they were out in broad daylight once again, and rowing steadily towards the Cove.

CHAPTER FIFTY.

TOO LATE.

There was no time to lose if he intended to be present at the sale, so hastily putting a few things in a bag, Geoffrey bade Madge good-by, and brought a smile in her thin, worn face as he took up the little one and kissed it, giving it a toss, and setting it off crowing and laughing before replacing it in Bessie's arms.

"Any commission for town, ladies?" he said; "ribbons, laces, or what do you say to a new hood for the squire here?"

Just then the dark face of old Prawle appeared at the door, and, reminding him of his commission, he started off at once to catch the coach.

"It's a rum world," he said, as he gazed at the smokeless chimneys of the great mine as he went on, and then, leaning more to his task, he began to picture the place busy once more, with its panting engines, and the click and rattle of the ore-reducing machinery.

"I'll show old Penwynn yet," he said to himself, "that there's money to be made out of the place. Poor old fellow, though, it will be a grievous disappointment to him, and he will feel it deeply."

He walked on with his eyes still fixed on the promontory upon which the mine was standing, and so immersed was he in thought that he almost ran up against two people before he saw them.

"I beg--"