"You hold on," he said, attributing it to nervousness caused by Uncle. Paul's attitude--"you hold on, Rumsey, and don't you be tempted at any price to sell. I warrant, my dear fellow, that you've made by that one stroke a handsome provision for your wife, more than you could have made by doctoring the whole county." "Then why don't you invest?" snarled Uncle Paul. "Because I've got no money," said Geoffrey, coolly. "Why don't you, who have?" "Because I'm not quite such an old fool as you think." The doctor warmed up again under the sunshine of Geoffrey's cheery ways, and soon after they were walking down towards the cliff, the doctor thanking Geoffrey again heartily as they parted, the one to make his rounds, the other to go to the busy mine. Geoffrey had not gone half-way before he met old Prawle, coming direct from Wheal Carnac. "Hallo, old man!" he cried. "How's poor mother? By Jove, I must come and see the dear old lady again." "Better--better," said Prawle, hastily. "That's well; and Miss Bessie?" "Yes, yes, quite well," said the old man, hastily. "I want to see you." "Come along down to my office. Been to the mine?" "Yes, yes. I've been down." "Ah, you old fox!" cried Geoffrey. "You wouldn't tell me, but you see we found it out." "Yes, yes," said Prawle, still speaking in a hasty way, contrary to his wont. "I'll buy some shares." "No, you won't," said Geoffrey, laughing. "Why not, eh? You'll let me?" "There isn't a share to be had, old man. No, sir, you are too late. You, knowing what you did, Prawle, should have made friends, and taken your share of the good things." The old man looked at him with a curiously sly expression of countenance. "None to be had?" he said, dubiously. "Not a share, Father Prawle: for those who hold them know their value now, and will not part." The old fellow hesitated as if he half meant to say something, but he did not say it, and went his way; while Geoffrey went on to the mine, busied himself a little about some fresh arrangements for stampers and improved crushing apparatus, and then descended the mine to seek out Pengelly. He found him hard at work superintending a gang of wielders of the pick, eager to make a goodly show of ore to send up to grass, and Geoffrey stopped about till the men went off to their dinners, when he and Pengelly had a long conversation about the state of the mine at this place. "I've been measuring and calculating, Pengelly, and I find that you are so near the water here that not an inch must be cut on the face of the drive, rich as it is. We must go down, and trust to finding the lode right away." "What, and leave this?" said Pengelly. "Why, it's madness." "Madness or no, I shall not have it touched, Pengelly," said Trethick, firmly. "Lay your ear against the rock. You can almost feel the beat of the water. I make it that we are right out four hundred feet under the sea at high water. We must run no risks."