ll, and you know it. My father never fights
without good cause," cried Tom Trefethen, who had arrived just in time
to resent the slurring remark.
"I'll teach you, you young whelp!" shouted the miner, springing
furiously forward; but Tom leaped aside, leaving the other to be
confronted by several burly Cornishmen, in whose ears was still
ringing the cry of "One and all!"
"Lad's right, Maister Connell," said one of these. "If 'ee doan't
believe it, come along and get proof."
But the Irishman, muttering something about not caring to fight all
Cornwall, turned abruptly and walked away.
Tom Trefethen, not yet knowing that Peveril had been hurt, also
hurried away to find his father, who, having left his young friend in
the hands of the mine surgeon, had gone to change his clothing. At the
same time poor Peveril lay in a small room of the shaft-house, having
the gash in his head sewn up. Several spectators regarded the
operation curiously, and among them was a gentleman, addressed by the
doctor as Mr. Owen, whom none of the others remembered to have seen
before, but who seemed to take a great interest in the still
unconscious sufferer.
"Do you consider it a serious case, doctor?" he asked.
"No. Not at all serious. These miners are a tough lot, and not easily
done for, as you'll find out before you have seen as much of them as I
have. This one will probably be out and at work again in a day or two.
I'm always having such little jobs on my hands, the results of
accident, mostly, though this, I believe, is a case of fighting,
something very uncommon in our mine, I can assure you. Splendid
physique, hasn't he? Savage-looking face, though. Hate to trust myself
alone with him. I understand old Mark Trefethen had a hard tussle
before he brought him to terms."
"What was the trouble?"
"I don't know, exactly. Insubordination, I suppose; but old Mark
don't put up with any nonsense."
"Do you know this fellow's name, or anything about him?"
"Um--yes. I have learned something, but not much. His name is
Peril--Richard Peril. Odd name, isn't it? He's a new-comer, and, like
yourself, has just entered the company's employ. Rather a contrast in
your positions, though. Illustrates the difference between one brought
up and educated as a gentleman, and one destined from the first for
the other thing, eh? It is all poppycock to say that education can
make a gentleman; don't you think so? In the present case, for
instance, I d
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