“We’ll try, sir,” replied the miner; and then together they had a good look round the place, making plans for the fixing of the necessary machinery, Geoffrey growing more and more satisfied with the earnestness and sagacity of his companion, who seemed to throw himself heart and soul into the work in hand. Then, after appointing to meet in good time the next morning, they made their way back to the cliff and separated.
“This has been an eventful day,” said Geoffrey, as, after softly letting himself in with the key that he had taken, he quietly took off his heavy boots, and, slippers in hand, stole up-stairs to his bedroom.
As he reached the door, however, a faint sob reached his ear, and as he stood listening it was very evident that some one was in grievous trouble, sobbing and crying as if her heart would break.
“That must be Miss Madge!” said Geoffrey to himself. “Poor wench! the course of her true love does not seem to run very smooth. Well, I can’t comfort her, and they say that a good cry always does a woman good. So, my dear, you must have your good cry and get better. I’m afraid that women are very silly things if they are not sisters or mothers.”
He said the words rather cynically, but, after undressing, he lay there thinking a good deal about Madge Mullion and her love affairs; then about Bess Prawle and her witchcrafts, laughing so heartily at the people’s folly that the bed rattled; then, lastly, Wheal Carnac filled his mind, and, sleeping or waking, he could think of nothing but pumping machinery, the emptying of the shaft, and the coming of the hour when he should be the first to go down to inspect the place, and then was it to be fortune or disappointment, success or failure?
In this instance it was to be sleep, for at length his regular, low breathing told of a weary man’s rest; while, just at the end of the passage, Madge Mullion’s flushed face was full of pain, her soft auburn hair was tangled, and the pillow soaked with tears.