He got into a boat, and was rowed to the base of the cliff, whence he climbed with careful step. The others watched him with more interest in his feat than in the object of it. On reaching one of the longest of the streaks he hacked at the rock with the hook, then suddenly looked round, and cried— "Daze me, my sonnies, if it bean’t as good silver tin ore as ever I seed. There’s riches here, take my word for’t." "Be-jowned if I bean’t fust to tell Squire," cried Jake Tonkin, instantly pulling his boat round and making for the shore. The others followed him, deaf to the entreaties of the miner to come back and take him off. Half-a-dozen boats raced madly to the beach; a score of youths sprang out, dashed through the village, up the hill, and along the high road. One, thinking to gain an advantage over the rest, tried to leap one of John Trevanion’s fences, and fell headlong to the ground, his competitors shouting with laughter, none attempting to emulate him. Jabez Mail, the son of Simon, arrived first at the Towers, but Ike Pendry, only a yard behind, caught him by the tail of his Sunday coat, and while the two were wrestling, Jake Tonkin slipped past them and rushed into the house without knocking. Remembering the situation of the Squire’s room from his last visit, he ran straight to it, followed by a dozen others, some entering with him, others crowding at the door. Within the room sat the Squire and Dick, with the Vicar, Mr. Mildmay, and Mr. Polwhele, smoking before a huge log fire. They had started up at the sound of heavy boots clattering along the passage, and stood in amazement as the young fishers, red and blown with running, clumped in. "What do you mean by this?" exclaimed the Squire testily. "D’you think this is an inn?" Jake, the foremost, was at once overcome by his habitual sheepishness, and stood as though glued to the floor, twisting his hat between his hands, and grinning vacantly. Ike Pendry thrust him aside. "Please, sir, I be come——" he began. "Scrounch ’ee, I was fust!" cried Jake, suddenly recovering his speech, and sticking his elbow into Ike’s ribs. "Now, now," said Mr. Carlyon severely, "this is very unmannerly behaviour. What do you mean by it?" "Please, yer reverence," said Ike, "theer be great and noble riches down-along at Beal. We be come with all our legs to tell Squire." "I was fust," added Jake. "You’re a liard," said young Mail, thrusting his way to the front. "I was fust, only Ike Pendry catched me by the tail o’ my coat, which he couldn’ ha’ done if ’twere a common day." "Well, then, Jabez," said the Vicar, "as you seem to have best command of your breath, perhaps you will tell us the meaning of these antics."