Tramplara paid several visits to Upaver without calling at West Wyke, sometimes alone and sometimes along with his son. He did more than visit Upaver; he got some men to break ground there and begin a mine, without asking permission of the landlord, Mr. Battishill, or letting him know what he was about. The farmer who rented Upaver held his tongue. One day, however, old Tramplara came to West Wyke House, along with a person whose looks betrayed what he was—a dissenting minister; in fact, the Reverend Israel Flamank. Mr. Battishill was by no means pleased to receive Tramplara. A mouse is not elated at the sight of the cat. Nothing, however, could be more friendly than the manner of Tramplara. He was gushing and jovial. He presented his friend Mr. Flamank, under whom, he said, to his soul’s welfare he had sat, one whom he should always regard as, under Providence, the man who had brought him to realise the great value of eternity and the infinite nothingness of to-day. Then followed a great deal of this sort of unctuous flattery, ’laid on with a trowel’ and sticking wherever applied. Mr. Battishill looked on with amused surprise to see how readily Mr. Flamank accepted the splashes, coarse and thick as they were. Then Tramplara addressed himself directly to the Squire. ’You must allow me, Battishill, to shake your hand once more; you must indeed. My friend and shepherd, Flamank, has made a discovery—a discovery of such moment that I doubt not it will astonish you. That it will please you, I do not doubt either. Flamank is a divine who has made prophecy his special study, and his knowledge of Bible history and geography is simply surprising. By the way, before I tell you what his find is, will you let me know whether you really propose to pay me back in full what I advanced some years ago?’ ’I shall not be able to do so,’ answered Mr. Battishill, ’but a friend has offered to find the money, and to relieve you of the mortgages.’ ’You mean young Herring.’ Mr. Battishill nodded. ’But where the devil’—Mr. Flamank started and looked remonstratingly at Tramplara—’where in Deuteronomy—I said Deuteronomy,—he can have come upon the money, I can’t think. I did know something about old Jago Herring, his father, and I thought he had been a plate licked pretty clean. I did not suppose there was much fat left sticking. But I dare say the old woman had money.’ ’What old woman?’ ’Mrs. Jago Herring, the lieutenant’s mother. And as there was no daughter, her money naturally came to him. It is possible that is how he must have come by it. Where is he now?’ ’In London, I believe. He left a week or two ago.’ ’I may take it for granted, I suppose, that the money will be forthcoming?’ asked Mr. Trampleasure. ’I do not doubt it. Mr. Herring is a man of his word,’ answered the old Squire.