apple, but with a distinct
plan of operations before him, Richard's eloquence was irresistible.
Deceit, if not habitual with him, had been practiced too often to lack
the gloss of truth from his ready tongue. He actually had a scheme for
procuring the sum in question, and when he possessed confidence himself,
it was rarely, indeed, that he failed to inspire it in others. For the
second time, the landlord of the _Gethin Castle_ found himself in doubt;
he was staggered by the positiveness of the young man's assertions, and
by the force and flow of his glowing words. In spite of himself, he
began once more to think that he might have been mistaken in condemning
him as an impostor, after all; as Richard had said, Carew _was_ scarcely
sane, and when excited by wrath, a downright madman. His resolves, too,
were as untrustworthy and fickle as the winds. Trevethick felt tolerably
convinced that the money would, at all events, be forthcoming; and the
sum--large in itself--seemed the earnest of much more. Last, but not
least, there were the possibilities in connection with the mine. If he
broke altogether with Richard, and turned him out of his house outright,
might not his first act be to reveal to Parson Whymper, in revenge, all
that he knew about Wheal Danes!

"Well, well, you shall stay at Gethin, then, till your check comes,
young gentleman," said he, in a tone that was meant to be conciliatory.
"I don't wish to be uncivil to any man, and certainly not to one who has
been my guest so long. But you will keep yourself _to_ yourself,
if you please, in the mean time. The bar parlor will no longer be open
to you, until you have proved your right to be there. And I don't mean
to promise any thing certain by that, neither; but what with your fast
talking and fine speaking I'm all in a buzz."

Honest John Trevethick did not, indeed, know What to think, what to
believe, or what to propose to himself for the future. His brain,
unaccustomed to much reflection, and dulled by pretty frequent
potations, was fairly muddled. Most heartily did he wish that this young
landscape-painter had never set foot in Gethin; but yet he could not
make up his mind to summarily eject him. Upon the whole, he was almost
as glad to temporize in the matter as Richard was himself.

In point of fact, Richard Yorke had won the battle, and was for the
present master of the field; but what a struggle it had been, and at
what a loss he had obtained the victory, y