"Don't ask me, please sir," said the old woman, looking terribly troubled; "but he is the best and truest of men, and, though he's very rough, never a hard word has he said all these weary years that I have been nothing but a burthen and a care."

"Oh, come, come!" said Geoffrey, taking her hand, as he saw the tears trickling down her furrowed face, "don't talk like that; there's always a pleasure in doing things for those we love. Hallo! who's this?" he cried, starting up as the doorway was shadowed, "Miss Penwynn!"

"Mr Trethick!" cried Rhoda, flushing slightly, "you here?"

"Yes," he said, laughing frankly, as he shook hands, "I've come to buy some sweets. Mrs Prawle's an old friend of mine. Let me recommend the transparent red fellows, with acid in them," he continued, merrily.

"Miss Bessie, here's a fresh customer."

Rhoda laughed and looked pleased at the way in which he kept up the pleasant fiction, as he immediately resigned his seat in her favour, and after a few cheery words about the weather and the like, he bade the invalid good-by, asked after. Mr Penwynn, and left the cottage.

"He's a brave, good young man, my dear," said Mrs Prawle, wiping her eyes, "and he often comes over and spends a sixpence here."

"Does he?" said Rhoda, quietly.

"Yes, very often; but Prawle don't like it, though I can't see why, my dear, for no young man could be nicer; and if he has took a fancy to our Bess, and should marry her, it would be the happiest day of my life."

"But--do you think--"

"Well, I don't know," said the invalid, glad of an opportunity to prattle on; "she's a good and a handsome girl, as she showed in the way she sent that Mr Tregenna about his business, and it was a merciful thing that Prawle never did him a mischief; he's that violent, and Mr Tregenna was always hanging about to see our Bess."

"Yes, yes," said Rhoda, colouring, "I know about that;" and then, her woman's curiosity prevailing over her dislike to hear gossip, she continued, "but you don't think Mr Trethick comes to--"

"See our Bess, my dear? Well, I can't say. He's quite a gentleman, and I'm sure if he does he means honourable to her."

"Yes, yes, of course," said Rhoda, hastily, "but he is quite a stranger."

"Yes, my dear, and it may be all my fancy; but gentlemen do sometimes marry poor girls--not that my Bess is poor, or will be poor," she said, proudly. "There's many a farmer's or captain's daughter will be worse off than she."

"But I thought," exclaimed Rhoda, "that Bess had a sweetheart--that lame man, Pengelly?"

"No," said the invalid, "I don't think that's any thing. He's a good young man--so religious, and sings and prays beautifully. He prayed here by me one Sunday for a whole hour; but it is not nature that my Bess should care for the likes of him, even if he does worship the ground she walks upon."

The old woman prattled away, but Rhoda did not hear her, for somehow her mind was busy running on with Geoffrey Trethick's career, and she was thinking how strange it would be if he married the old smuggler's handsome daughter, who, it was reputed, would have plenty of money when her father died, but was to be avoided on account of the possession of the evil eye.

At last the visit was brought to an end, Rhoda promising, somewhat unwillingly, to come soon again; when Bess was summoned to come in, with her fearless erect carriage, to do up the parcel of sweets that the visitor purchased.

As they were taken, the eyes of the two girls met, each gazing searchingly at the other, and to Rhoda it seemed that there was a calm, triumphant smile on the face of Bess, who almost looked at her mockingly, though there was a bitterness in the curl of her lip.

Somehow Rhoda grew very thoughtful as she slowly made her way back.

Geoffrey Trethick was nothing to her, but he had been their guest, and it seemed to be almost an insult that he should know them, and yet stoop to the pursuit of this common peasant girl.

"But why should I trouble about it?" she said, merrily; and all thought of what had been said was chased away upon her seeing the object of her thoughts upon the cliff track, in company with the Reverend Edward Lee.

Meanwhile Bess Prawle had gone out, knitting in hand, to where her father was busy in his garden, and stood beside him for some time in silence, till he looked and saw her gazing at him, with a settled frown upon her face.

"Well, father," she said rather huskily.

"Well, la.s.s."

"Do you think now that Mr Trethick comes over to see poor me?"

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.

MEETING A VOLCANO--AND A PLACID LAKE.

Geoffrey came swinging along the path, with his head thrown back and his chest forward, smiling at something that crossed his mind, when he stopped short, for Amos Pengelly suddenly stood in his way.

"Ah, Pengelly," he said, heartily, "how are you, my lad?" and he stretched out his hand.

To his astonishment, the miner struck it savagely aside, closed with him, caught him by arm and waistband, and by a clever Cornish wrestling trick, and the exercise of his iron muscles, literally lifted him from the ground.

Geoffrey was powerful, and full of youth and vigour, but his antagonist's dwarfish legs gave him another advantage, and he could have thrown the young man heavily to the ground, but in the very act of dashing him upon the rocks he relented, and let him recover himself.

"Have you gone mad, Pengelly?" cried Geoffrey, warmly. "Hang it, man, if you don't control that confounded temper of yours you'll be on your trial some day for murder."

"Maybe it'll be yours," cried Amos, fiercely. "What have I done to you that you should serve me in this way?"

"I? Serve you?" cried Geoffrey, in astonishment, for he had resumed his unruffled manner. "What's the matter, Amos?"

"Where have you been, master?"

"Been? Down to Gwennas Cove."

"There, you own it," cried Amos, with his pa.s.sion rising again.

"Look here, master, there are things that make me mad. I've fought like men with beasts at Ephesus, as holy Paul says, and my beasts are the beasts of pa.s.sion that rise up in me. I've fought and I've prayed, and I've mastered them again and again, but there's one thing lets them loose, and I can't keep them down."

"Look here, Pengelly," said Geoffrey, quietly, "I had hoped when the day came that I could get a good engagement to have you as one of my best men; but, hang me! if I can trust a fellow who has always got a volcano in him ready to burst out."

"Then why do you cross me like this?"

"Cross you, my good fellow?" said Geoffrey, as he fixed the miner with his eye. "I'm not going to cross you. There, come along back to Carnac, and let's talk about yonder mine."

"I want no dealings with such a treacherous man," cried Amos, fiercely.

"But, look here, I warn ye. You're well-shaped and good to look upon, while I'm only a cripple; but I can't--there's that in me that won't let me--stand by and see another man take up with her as flouts me for what I am."

"Flouts? Take up with her?" said Geoffrey, wonderingly, while the miner's breast heaved as he seemed to be battling hard to contain himself.

Then a light burst upon Geoffrey, and he was ready to burst into a fit of laughter; but he saw that the subject was too serious for mirth, and he exclaimed, in a tone of vexation once more,--

"Are all you people mad here upon questions relating to the s.e.xes? Why, my good fellow, where do you think I've been?"

"You said--to Prawle's."

"Yes, of course; but what for?"

"You've been to see her. You've been again and again, master, till I can bear it no more. Oh! Master Trethick," he cried, piteously, "it may be play and trifling with you, but it's killing me."