"I’ll mind o’ that, and not gie un a whole broadside. Dear life! What a mix-up of a world it is, to be sure?" CHAPTER THE TWENTIETH The Last Deal For a week or two there was a lull in events. One day the Squire received a letter from John Trevanion’s attorney, demanding that he should give up the property of his client which had been feloniously abstracted from the abandoned mine. The Squire swore, a rare occurrence with him, and sent Dick with the letter to his own lawyer in Truro. Dick returned with a piece of news that staggered his father. The attorney had died suddenly a few days before. He was the holder of the mortgage on the Towers and the Beal; it was almost certain that his executors would demand payment of the advance. For the first time the Squire was faced with the absolute loss of his ancestral home. He waited some days in torturing suspense: then the dread letter came. The amount of a hundred pounds must be paid within a month. The Squire had not even a hundred shillings to spare. In deep distress of mind he walked to Truro to consult another lawyer, and see whether the bond could not be renewed or transferred. He applied to a young solicitor who had recently set up business in the town, and who undertook to do what he could. The Squire placed in his hands also the letter he had received from John Trevanion’s attorney. A correspondence ensued between the two men of law, with great ingenuity of argument and ample quotation of authorities on both sides. It did not terminate until the precise question in dispute was no longer of importance. Meanwhile the Squire retained the silks and satins. With the approach of Christmas the vigilance of Penwarden and his superiors became incessant. At that season there was a great demand all through the countryside for the wares of the free-traders, and unless precedent was to fail, many a bale and keg would be landed on the coast without paying dues to the King’s Government. One dark night, Tonkin arrived in his lugger at Lunnan Cove, a few miles south of the village, with a fine cargo freighted jointly by John Trevanion and himself. Contrary winds having delayed him, he arrived several hours later than had been arranged, and found that the tub-carriers, evidently tired of waiting, had gone away. He dropped the tubs overboard in the usual manner, taking their bearings carefully, and returned for them on the following night. To his surprise and bitter rage, when he explored the bottom with his creeps, a strong force of tub-carriers waiting on the shore, he failed to find a single tub of the cargo so carefully laid. All had vanished. If he had been on the spot a few hours earlier, he would have seen them hoisted one by one into the revenue-boats, and conveyed to official sanctuary at St. Ives.