“So far the speculation was a perfectly legitimate one, as speculations go nowadays. But that is not the sort of thing I wish to exist between you and me. You have been very kind to me in many ways, and I have much to thank you for. I could not bear to treat you in this matter as I should treat a stranger. I could not bear to think that I was making a fortune out of a piece of ground that but a few short weeks ago was your property. The money so made would seem to me to bring a curse with it, rather than a blessing. I should feel as if nothing would ever prosper with me afterwards. Sir, I will not have this coal mine. There are plenty of other channels open to me for making money. Here are the title deeds of the property. I give them back to you. You shall repay me the twelve hundred pounds purchase-money, and reimburse me for the expenses I have been put to in sinking the shaft. But as for the pit itself, I will have nothing to do with it.” Tom had produced the title deeds from his pocket and had laid them on the table while speaking. He now pushed them across to the Squire. Then he took the deed of sale tore it across, and threw the fragments into the grate. It is doubtful whether Titus Culpepper had ever been more astonished in the whole course of his life than he was at the present moment. For a little while he seemed utterly at a loss for words, but when he did speak, his words were not lacking in force. “Bristow, you are a confounded fool!” he said with emphasis. “I have been told that many times before.” “You are a confounded fool—but you are a gentleman.” Tom merely bowed. “You propose to give me back the title deeds of Knockley Holt, after having found what may literally be termed a gold mine there—eh?” “I don’t propose to do it, sir. I have done it already. There are the title deeds,” pointing to the table. “There is the deed of sale,” pointing to the fire-grate. “And do you think, sir,” said the Squire, with dignity, “that Titus Culpepper is the man to accept such a romantic piece of generosity from one who is little more than a boy! Not so.—It would be impossible for me to forgive myself, were I to do anything of the kind The property is fairly and legally yours, and yours it must remain.” “It shall not, sir! By heaven! I will not have it. There are the title deeds. Do with them as you will.” He buttoned his coat, and took up his hat, and turned to leave the room. “Stop, Bristow, stop!” said the Squire, as he rose from his chair. Tom halted with the handle of the door in his hand, but he did not go back to the table. Mr. Culpepper walked to the window and stood there looking out for full three minutes without uttering a word. Then he turned and beckoned Tom to go to him.