"Naturally; for if a mine was started, not only would he get no good out of it, but his farm would be ruined."

William remained silent and thoughtful.

"Now, if I could get the freehold," Ralph went on, "I should be free from every interference. I could sink a shaft for a few fathoms and test the thing. If it proved to be worthless, very little harm would be done.

I should still have the farm to work or to let. Do you see my point?"

"I do, but----"

"I know what you would say. I have not the money," Ralph interrupted.

"That is quite true. But I've more than I thought I had. And if the Brick, Tile, and Clay Company will take my plant at a fair valuation, I shall have more. Now I want to ask you, as a business man, if you think I could get a mortgage for the rest?"

"Possibly you might," William said slowly, "but there are a good many objections to such a course."

"Well, what are they?"

"We'll take one thing at a time," William answered meditatively. "To begin with: I don't believe Sir John Hamblyn would sell the place to you under any circ.u.mstances if he knew."

"Why not?"

"Because he has wronged you, and so he hates you. Nothing would please him better than for you to leave the country."

"Well?"

"If you begin to look round for a mortgage, or for securities----"

"Yes, I see."

"If you are to get the place, your name must not be given at the outset; you must buy through an agent or solicitor. You must be ready with the money on the nail."

Ralph looked thoughtful for several moments.

"I'm afraid it's of no use hoping," he said at length; "though when Robert Telfer handed me over his cheque this evening the world did look bright for a moment."

"But if you bought the farm you might lose everything," William suggested; "and it would be a pity to throw away your first earnings."

"Why so? There's no good in h.o.a.rding money. I want to be doing something. Besides, I might find work for half the parish."

"Then you have faith in the tin lode of which your father spoke?"

"I am confident there is a lode there. My father was not likely to be mistaken in a matter of that kind. As a practical miner and mineralogist there was not his equal in the county."

"But he did not test the lode?"

"He had no chance."

"Hence, it may be worthless."

"I admit it. Mind you, my father was confident that it was rich in tin.

Of course, he may have been mistaken."

"But you are prepared to risk your all on it?"

"I am. I wish I had ten times as much to risk."

The next moment Ruth appeared, with the announcement that supper was ready.

"Let me sleep over it," William whispered to Ralph; "and to-morrow morning you come up to my shop and we'll see what we can make of it."

And he turned and followed Ruth into the next room.

CHAPTER x.x.xI

A PARTNERSHIP

It was late when William left Ralph Penlogan's cottage, but he was in no hurry to get to St. Goram. He sauntered slowly along the dark and deserted lane with his hands in his pockets and his eyes nowhere in particular. He tried to comfort himself with the reflection that he had not been selfish--that he had done his best for his Cousin Sam, that he had spoken the good word that he promised.

But for some reason the reward of virtue was not so great as he had hoped. There was no feeling of exultation in his heart at his triumph over temptation; in truth, he was much more inclined to call himself a fool for lending aid to his cousin at all.

This reflection reacted on his spirits in another way. He was more selfish than he could have believed. He was like the man who gave half a crown at a collection, and regretted it all his life afterwards. He had forced himself to speak a good word for his cousin, but there was no virtue in it. Service rendered so grudgingly was deserving of no reward.

"I am like the dog in the manger," he said to himself, a little disconsolately; "I cannot have her myself, and I don't want anybody else to have her."

Then he fell to thinking of Ruth's many attractions. He had never seen anyone before with such a wealth of hair, and he was sure there was no one in the three parishes who arranged her hair so gloriously as Ruth did. And then her figure was just perfection in his eyes. She was neither too short nor too tall, too stout nor too thin. There was not a single line or curve that he would have altered.

And her character was as perfect as her form and as beautiful as her face. William's love shed over her and around her a golden haze which hid every fault and magnified every virtue.

By morning he was able to see things a little more in their true perspective, and when Ralph called he was able to put love aside and talk business, though he was by no means sure that in business matters Ruth did not influence him unconsciously.

Ralph had great faith in William's judgment and sagacity. He always looked at both sides of a question before deciding. If he erred at all, it was on the side of excessive caution.

Ralph could not help wondering what was in William's mind. He had said practically nothing the previous evening. He had asked a few questions, and pointed out certain difficulties, but he had committed himself to nothing, yet it seemed clear that he had some scheme in his mind which he would reveal when he had duly considered it.

For a few minutes they talked generalities, then William plunged into the subject that was uppermost in the thoughts of both.

"I don't wonder that you want to get hold of the freehold of Hillside,"

he said. "I should if I were in your place. Apart from sentiment, the business side appeals strongly. The discovery of a good tin lode there would be the making of St. Goram----"

"And the ruin of the farm," Ralph interjected.

"Well, the erection of a big engine-house on the top of the hill and fire stamps in Dingley Bottom would certainly not improve the appearance of things from an artistic point of view."

"'There is no gain except by loss,'" Ralph quoted, with a smile.

"True; but we all ought to consider the greatest good of the greatest number."