Mr Penwynn nodded.
“He is sanguine about the mine, and asked me to examine it. I did so as far as I could, and then one night we procured a rope, and I rigged up a ship’s block on a stoutish cross-beam, took a lantern, and Pengelly let me down.”
“By himself?”
“Oh, yes! sir; he’s as strong as a horse. But he did duck me.”
“Mr Trethick,” said the banker, pulling out his pocket-handkerchief, “do you mean to tell me that you trusted to one man to lower you down that pit?”
“I do, Mr Penwynn, and a precious black pit it is; and, as I tell you, he let me down rather too far, but not till I had had a good look round.”
“And what did you discover?” said the banker, wiping the palms of his wet hands.
“Nothing,” said Geoffrey, bluntly. “No more than I could find out on the heap of débris. No thorough examination could be made without the mine were pumped out.”
“And that would cost?—”
“Fifty or a hundred pounds, perhaps two,” said Geoffrey. “Principally for carriage of pumping apparatus, fixing, and taking down again.”