The old man chuckled, and pointed with his pipe-stem out of the mouth of the cave, looking curiously weird and picturesque in the glow of the fire, with the black, uncouth shadows of the pieces of wreck-wood and boat-gear behind. "I don't understand you," said Geoffrey. "The sea, boy--the water's your enemy, so look out." "I will," said Geoffrey; and then they smoked and chatted on, the old man going up three or four times to see if the doctor was ready to go; and at last, soon after three, he came back, looking more grim than ever, and not to trim the fire this time. "Doctor will come in five minutes," he said, gruffly. "Will you have any more brandy?" "No, thanks, no," said his visitor. "There, mind this, boy, get me shares, and get some yourself, but keep it secret from every one." "I'll help you if I can," said Geoffrey, "for old acquaintance' sake; but your promise of news comes too late." "Nay, nay, we'll see, we'll see," said the old man. "But look here, Master Trethick, are you going to marry that gal?" "What, Miss Mullion? No." "Ho!" said the old man, gruffly. "Now, Trethick," came from above; and Geoffrey hastily made his way up the rugged steps to where the doctor was waking. "How is she?" he cried eagerly. "Better: going on well," said the doctor, shortly. "And in no danger?" "None whatever, if she is kept quiet, and her mind set at ease." "Poor lass, I'll do all I can," said Geoffrey, earnestly. "I'll have a long talk to Mrs Mullion and Paul in the morning--well, it is morning now--after breakfast. I'll soon set it right. I think I can." "That's well," said the doctor, as they walked on along the dark path. "You seem tired," said Geoffrey, for the doctor was singularly reserved. "Very." "So am I." There was another silence for some time. "What are you thinking about, doctor?" said Geoffrey, at last. "About Madge Mullion. Look here, Trethick, I like you--" "Thanky, doctor, I like you, and I'm glad you've taken my hint about those shares." "Hang the shares!" said the doctor. "Let me finish what I was going to say." "Go ahead." "Damn it, man, don't be so cool and unconcerned." "All right," said Geoffrey. "I say I like you for some things, Trethick, and I'm by profession tolerably hard and callous; but it frets me, sir, to have seen that poor girl lying there, after trying in her despair to throw away her life, and you as cool and cavalier as can be." "Well," said Geoffrey, laughing, "I may be calm, but I was not, though, when I fetched you. As to my coolness, I haven't changed my wet things after getting nearly drowned to save her, and I'm cheery because you told me there was no danger." "No, but she's very ill. And as to your saving the poor lass, it was no more than your duty. You needn't brag about that." "I don't brag, doctor, so you need not be so peppery. I say, calling you up in the night don't improve your temper."