It was down the deep valley by the side of the rushing river that Dinah did take him to her throbbing heart, and hold him as tightly as his arms grasped her; for in that solitary place, where the glancing sunbeams shot from the silver river, there were only the trout to tell tales, and the tales they told never reached the air. She had gone to meet him, and when they had sauntered on another half mile there was the Major whipping a dark pool under the shadow of the rocks. "Ah, Clive, my boy," he cried, winding in his line and speaking as if they had only parted the previous day, after a glance at Dinah's eyes where the love-light burned brightly. "Glad to see you down again. Why didn't you bring the Doctor?" "He is rather in trouble about his daughter?" "Ill?" "Well, mentally more than bodily, sir. She is back home, and he will hardly leave her for a moment." "Home, eh? And her husband?" "He is in New Zealand, and not likely to return." "So much the better for old England, my boy. Come along, you must be like me, hungry." They walked through the old wild garden, which looked more beautiful than ever; and Martha was ready to smile a welcome; while to Clive, as he let himself sink back in his old seat, it was as if he had at last found rest. It was during a walk next morning with the Major, who took Clive round by the `White Virgin' mine, that the old officer suddenly turned to him and said-- "Clive, my lad, the machinery here is to be sold next week." "I know it," said the young man, frowning slightly. "You must buy it, and start afresh. I can't have you turn rusty for want of work." "No, sir, it is useless. The chances are too great against the old lode being found again." "Not at all, boy; it is found close to the surface." "What!" cried Clive excitedly. "Where?" "On the patch of old waste of limestone that I bought all those years ago, when, for a fault I never committed, I had to exile myself and come to live down here--to rot in despair, as I thought, but to find a lasting peace." "Oh, impossible!" cried Clive. "Are you sure?" "As sure as a man can be who has dabbled over minerals for twenty years. There it is--a foot beneath the surface, and as rich as it was in the `White Virgin' mine. The White Virgin--my dearest child--gives it to you as her dowry, the day you call her wife." The Major held out his hands; and as they were taken a white dress was seen fluttering on the hill side a few hundred yards away, and the Major said softly-- "She does not know it. I have left the news for you to tell. One moment: I have a stipulation to make." "That you never leave us, sir." "No; but you may throw that in, boy, and not rob me of all. Let the new vein still be called the `White Virgin' mine." End of Project Gutenberg's The White Virgin, by George Manville Fenn