And he jingled some gold in his pocket to give emphasis to his words. Woe for Everope! He had made the step which costs: the rest were comparatively easy. "True," thought he, "if I hold back, another will be found. Already I am entangled with this scoundrel. And, after all, there may be nothing bad in the business. Pish! 'Returning is as tedious as go o'er.'" That same night Sinson started with his victim for Cornwall. He found Everope quarters in a village at some little distance from Pendarrel, while he himself went to Wilderness Gate, where his aged grandmother received him with doting partiality. But he did not wish to attract more attention than he could help. He showed Everope about the neighbourhood of Trevethlan, pointed out the chief features of the locality, and in particular made him notice the approach to the castle. There was no harm so far, and Everope rather marvelled that for this trivial survey he should have been brought such a distance. From Trevethlan Michael conducted his slave two or three miles along the coast to a cottage which stood somewhat retired. "By the bye," he said, as they approached the modest dwelling, "I think you were at college, Everope. How long ago?" "About twenty years," answered the spendthrift with a deep sigh. "Was there any one there of the name of Ashton in your time?" "I seem to remember the name," the spendthrift said, musing. "Ashton? yes, a rowing man, I think--yes, went into the church afterwards. I recollect now. But he was a good deal my senior. I knew but little of him." "Did you ever hear what became of him?" "Well, it was something strange," Everope continued. "Let me see. His family quarrelled with him. There was some story about his being murdered." "Exactly so," said Sinson. "And we are now close to the scene. It was in this cottage that he lodged--just observe it--and some half mile from here along the cliff his body was found, nearly knocked to pieces on the beach." The spendthrift's attention was excited by the tale, which also recalled those early days at college, when precocious dissipation and riot laid the seed of future ruin. Towards what abyss had he been travelling ever since? He seemed to turn round, and gaze backwards up a long slope, from the extremity of which his childhood looked down upon him still smiling and hopeful, but whereon at every pause in the descent he saw countenances more and more louring, and forms toiling upwards with averted faces. And now before him at a little distance, the incline was lost in darkness and clouds, and thitherward he was incessantly impelled, and there was nothing to stay his descent. Sinson left him at his country quarters, merely saying, that they would return to London the following day, and that there Everope should learn the object of the journey. He himself repaired to the habitation of his grandmother.