t's a very old one, Mr. Balfour. The plot of ground you purchased gets
its strange name from an ancient tin mine that is comprised in it, once
worked by the Romans, but disused since their time. There are many such
in Cornwall."

"So I've heard," said Balfour, while the other sipped his glass. It was
curious to contrast the grave and earnest manner of the host with the
careless and uninterested air of his guest, who presently, as the
narrative proceeded, leaned his face upon his hand and gazed into the
fire, an occasional glance sideways at his companion through his fingers
alone testifying that his attention was still preserved. He never
stirred a limb nor winked an eyelid when Solomon came out with his great
secret.

"This mine that is said to be worked out, Mr. Balfour, and which you
have purchased by mere accident, as being in the same lot with your
proposed building-ground, will, I have reason to believe, turn out a
gold mine."

"You don't say so! I did not know that there _was_ gold in Cornwall."

"There is as good, or at least there are metals that bring gold--tin and
copper; and Wheal Danes is full of the latter. The old Romans worked it
for tin only, and left their prize just as it was getting to be worth
having. There's a copper vein in the lowest level of that mine that may
be worth all the old Carew estate."

"And you have seen this vein?"

"No; but my wife's father, John Trevethick, as good a judge as any man
on earth, or under it, saw it, and told me of its existence on his
death-bed--"

"When did he die, and how? Was it a lingering, painful death, or was he
struck down suddenly?" interposed Balfour. "I ask," added he, hastily,
for Solomon looked up in wonder at his companion's vehemence, "because
the credibility of such a story as you tell me would depend upon the
state of the man's brain."

"He did die a painful and a lingering death, but his wits were clear
enough," answered Solomon. "It was ten years ago, and more, but I mind
it as well as though it was but yesterday--indeed, I've thought of
little else since. 'The best legacy I have to leave you, Sol, lies in
these last words of mine,' said he; 'so do you listen, and lay them to
heart.' Then he told me how, as a boy, he had once explored Wheal Danes
in play with other boys, and found the copper lode in a certain spot. He
was not so young even then but that he knew the value of such a find,
and he had held his tongue; and though he visited th