on--not complainingly. His face was dark, and his tone
violent, and even menacing. There was no mistake about his having
accepted his companion's invitation to be frank.

"Mr. Trevethick," said Richard, gravely, "your disappointment would be
natural enough, if your long-cherished plan had really failed; but you
have misunderstood me altogether. I am grateful to you for confiding to
me the whole of what I had already guessed in part; and you shall have
no reason to repent your confidence. Your secret is safer now than it
has ever been; for from my lips Mr. Whymper shall never have his
suspicions with respect to Wheal Danes confirmed. I have been too long
your guest, I feel myself too much the friend of you and yours, to act
in any way to your disadvantage."

Trevethick looked at him inquiringly, suspicion and disfavor glowing in
his dusky face. "But if your story is true, young gentleman, this mine
will be your own some day?"

"It may, or it may not be, Mr. Trevethick. My father's intentions are
not to be counted upon, as you must be well aware, for twenty-four
hours. But if ever Wheal Danes is mine--" Richard hesitated a moment,
while the landlord devoured him with his eyes.

"Well," cried he, impatiently, "what then?"

"I am willing to make over to you, as soon as I come of age, by deed,
all interest that I may have in it--on one condition."

"Make over Wheal Danes to me by deed! What! at my own price?"

"For nothing; you shall have it for a free gift."

"But the condition? What is it that you want of me that is not money?"

"I want permission from you, Mr. Trevethick, to wed, that is--for I
would not speak of love without your leave--to woo your daughter."

"To wed my daughter!" cried Trevethick, starting from his seat; "my
Harry!"

"I say provided that my suit is not displeasing to her," answered
Richard, not without a tremor in his voice, for the old man's face was
terrible to look upon. Hatred and Wrath were struggling there with
Avarice, and had the upper hand.

He rocked himself to and fro, then answered, in a stifled voice, "My
daughter's hand is already promised, young man."

"It may be so, Mr. Trevethick, but not by her, I think; and that her
heart has not been given to the man you have designed for her is
certain. You may see that for yourself."

"I tell you I have passed my word to Solomon Coe that she shall be his
wife," returned the other, gloomily, "and I am not one to go back from a
barg