"I have been to Hillside Farm," he said, and a broad smile spread itself over his face. "To Hillside Farm?" she questioned. "Young Penlogan has had some business affairs of mine in hand, and to-night we have settled it." She stared at him with a look of wonder in her eyes, but did not reply. "It's been a ticklish task, and, of course, I have said nothing about it. But I've been in high hopes ever since I came back. Penlogan is really a remarkable fellow." "Yes?" she questioned, wondering more than ever. "It's a curious turn of the tables," he went on; "but he's behaved splendidly, and there's no denying it. He might have heaped coals of fire on my head at every point. He might--but--well, after one straight talk--not another word. He's behaved like a gentleman--perhaps I ought to say like a Christian. No conditions! Not a condition. No. Having made up his mind to do the straight thing, he's carried it through. It's been coals of fire, all the same. I've never felt so humbled in my life before. I could wish--but there, it's too late to wish now. He's spared me all he could. I'm bound to say that for him, and he's carried it through----" "Carried what through, father?" He started, and smiled, for his thoughts had evidently gone wandering to some distant place. "I'm afraid it's too long a story to tell you to-night." "No, no, father. I'm quite wide awake. And, indeed, I shall not sleep for the night, unless you tell me." "I'm wide awake myself," he said, with a laugh. "By Jove! I feel as if I could dance. You can't imagine what a relief it is to me. Life will be worth living again." "But what is it all about, father?" "Oh, that clever dog, Penlogan, discovered a rich vein of ore in my ground, and he's given me all the benefit of the discovery. I've been hard up for a long time, as you know; been in the hands of sharks, in fact. I feel ashamed to tell you this, though I expect you have guessed. Well, thanks to Penlogan, I've shaken them off, got quite free of them. Now I'm free to go ahead." "And has Ralph Penlogan done all this for nothing?" "Absolutely. He wanted you when he came to see me at Boulogne, but I told him I'd see you buried first. Good heavens! I could have wrung his neck." She smiled pathetically, but made no answer. "He's a greater man than I knew," Sir John went on, after a pause. "He was strongly tempted to be even with me--he told me so--but the finer side of him conquered. Good heavens! if only Geoffrey were such a man, how proud I should be." "Geoffrey has been trained in a different school." "There may be something in that. Some natures expand under hard knocks, are toughened by battle and strife, greatened by suffering, and sweetened by sorrow." She looked up into his face with a wondering smile.