"Your health, Father Prawle," said Geoffrey, tossing it down. "It was rude. By George! what nectar. It puts life in a fellow. Shall we hear the doctor when he comes out?" "Yes, don't be afeard, man, sit down," said the old fellow. "I'm going to smoke." "I'll join you," said Geoffrey, "if you have any tobacco. Mine's soaked." "Oh, yes," said the old man. "I've passed many a night in sea-soaked clothes, but it won't hurt you, my lad. Here's some tobacco." "I hope not," said Geoffrey, taking the tobacco, filling, and lighting his pipe. "You got her out of the water then, eh?" "Yes," said Geoffrey, shortly. "Poor lass!" Geoffrey nodded acquiescence, and they smoked for some time in silence. "It is very kind of Miss Prawle to take her in and attend her," said Geoffrey at last; "but I'm sure poor Madge Mullion will be very grateful." "My Bess arn't made of stone," said the old man, gruffly, as he sat staring hard across the ruddy fire, whose smoke went up through a rift. Then, re-filling the glass, he handed it to Geoffrey, who drank gladly of the spirit at the time; after which the old man refreshed himself, put on some more driftwood, and stared at his visitor. "I should have liked to hold some shares in that mine," he said. "Yes, you ought to have had some, Father Prawle. Hush! was that the doctor?" "No, only the washing of the sea in the rock holes. Maybe you'll get me some of those shares. I can pay for them." "There is not one to be had, Father Prawle," replied Geoffrey. "Maybe you'll sell me some of yours, Master Trethick. I'll pay you well." "Mine!" cried Geoffrey, laughing. "I don't hold one." The old man looked at him very keenly, and then let his eyes fall. "If you would really like to have some," said Geoffrey, "and I see a chance, I'll secure them for you." "Do, my lad. I'm doing you a good turn here without asking questions." "And I'm very grateful to you," said Geoffrey; "very grateful." "Then do me a good turn." "Because you were so free in telling me all about the mine?" "Let that bide, Master Trethick," said the old man. "But, look here, I will tell you now, if you'll get me a lot of shares." "It's too late, man--too late." "Nay, but it isn't. You get me shares, and you'll see. I worked in yon mine." "And did not make the proprietors' fortune," said Geoffrey, with a smile. "Nobody tried to make mine," growled the old fellow, "and they treated me like a dog. I had to think of self. Look here, Mas'r Trethick, I hated you when you come here, for I thought you meant my Bess." "I know you did," said Geoffrey. "But I don't think so now, and I tell you this. You get me shares, and it'll be worth thousands to you. Get shares yourself too; and mind this, you've got to take care of your enemy." "And who's that?"