Denis, or Wyley, was nothing loth to repeat his story. Griffith, having the knowledge which Owen was too young to possess, was able to confirm him on several points. The narrative was verified in every possible manner, and a copy transmitted to Winter, while the steward returned to Trevethlan, to confirm it still further, by disinterring the buried clothes. In the flush of his exultation, he did not attempt to conceal the purpose of his journey, and the greater part of the villagers turned out spontaneously to assist in the quest which he undertook without loss of time. Gabriel had described with great exactitude the spot to be searched, for he remembered it very well. And indeed there were many people still living who could point out the place where the body was found. Near at hand, a long narrow rift ran into the face of the precipice, and at its extreme end, where the billows of every winter increased the depth of superincumbent sand, Wyley stated he had deposited the garments which would identify the wearer. The cleft was too narrow for more than one man to dig at a time, and the excitement of the crowd behind him increased with every stroke of his spade. The smuggler appeared to have told the truth. A quantity of half-destroyed garments were discovered, and among them a pocket-book containing a pencil-case and a ring. The clothes were worthless for any object; but of these last-mentioned articles Griffith took possession, and forwarded them to London, in order that they might be submitted to Mr. Ashton's friends for recognition. "Hurrah for Trevethlan!" shouted Colan, in a conclave held at Dame Miniver's that night, "and a health to our squire and our bonny young mistress!" Loud acclamations and deep draughts gave a welcome to the toast. "'Tis a strange thing," said the general merchant, "that this matter should have been so long quiet. The times that I've walked by that rift in the cliff yonder, and never seen anything." "Why?" asked the hostess; "and what would ye expect to see, neighbour Breage? Every winter as passed only packed the sand higher and higher." "But there might have been a sign, dame, there might have been a sign." "It shows there was no murder done, at any rate," observed another of the company. "Still," persisted Breage, "I wonder there was no dream came to point to the place; and especially seeing how hard it has gone with the squire." "It's like to go hard enough with this Denis or Wyley," Colan remarked. "The fire of Pendar'l was black enough against him, and this story won't tell any way for him." "But it will for our Edward Owen," said Germoe. "It will turn to his good, and I am glad of it." "Ay," exclaimed Dame Miniver, "and besides that, I hear talk how he fought for the lady of Pendar'l that night, and beat off some that would harm her." "We shall have him among us again afore long," said farmer Colan. "And Gabriel will be like to confess all the rights of it before he dies."