Prawle hesitated for a moment, and glanced at his daughter, then back at their visitor, and ended by sitting down on the bench and knocking the ashes from his pipe to refill it from the tobacco brought by his visitor; while Bess, in whose eyes the tears were gathering, turned away and softly peeped into the cottage. "That's better," said Geoffrey, as both pipes were lit, and they sat under the grey and purple cliff facing the sparkling sea. "Amos Pengelly says he believes you have a good deal of faith in that mine." "Amos Pengelly's a psalm-singing, chattering fool," said the old man, angrily. "No he isn't," said Geoffrey; "he's a very good, honest, sensible fellow." Bess turned sharply round and looked curiously at him. "Bah! what does he know 'bout what I think?" growled Prawle. "I don't know; but he tells me you worked in it." Prawle nodded. "Well, you must have seen a good deal of what the rock is like." "Like rubbish," said the old man, hastily. "Thousands have been wasted there, and thousands more will be by anybody who's fool enough to work it." "Humph?" said Geoffrey, between two puffs of smoke, "perhaps so. Is that your honest opinion?" As he spoke he gazed full in the old man's eyes, which met his without flinching for a few moments, but only to sink before the searching gaze and take refuge on the ground. "Never you mind what's my honest opinion. I'm not an Amos Pengelly to go and chatter about my affairs." "A still tongue makes a wise head, Master Prawle," said Geoffrey, "even about little smuggling and wrecking jobs." "What do you know about smuggling and wrecking?" cried Prawle, angrily. "Very little," said Geoffrey, "only this cove looks to me about as convenient a place as well could be for any little job of that sort." "Mother's awake, Mr Trethick," interposed Bess, as she saw her father's wrath rising at Geoffrey's bantering comment. "I'll come directly," said Geoffrey, as he saw her appealing look. "There, I won't joke you about your private affairs, Master Prawle. So you won't tell me any thing about Wheal Carnac?" "Not a word," said the old man, angrily. "Not this time," said Geoffrey, rising, "but think it over. Now, Miss Bessie, how is our invalid to-day?" Mrs Prawle's face lit up as Geoffrey's form darkened the door, and she held out her thin white hand eagerly, as, in his bluff way, her visitor asked after her health. "Very sadly, sir, very sadly," she said, turning a fresh article of attire and spreading it upon her knees; "but do you--do you want--I'm so glad to do a little to save being a burthen to them." "Want sweets?" said Geoffrey. "Yes, I've got a commission to spend a whole sixpence; and see here, Miss Bessie, above half are to be those transparent red gentlemen."