“Why should I say so?” replied the old man, fiercely. “I have myself to look after. People don’t come and give me money, and tell me to live out of that. They hate me, and call me ill names. No. I found the copper, and I said to myself, ‘If no one else finds it, that’s mine. I’ll buy that mine some day;’ and now, when the time has come, and we could have been rich, you let the mine go, and it is all for nothing.”
“You ought to have told me about that copper, Prawle. It would have been the saving of Mr Penwynn. I could have redeemed that mine from loss, and the water might have been removed sufficient for that.”
“Nay,” cried the old man; “you couldn’t have rid her of water without my plan, and I tell you I found the copper, and it was mine, and you have thrown it away.”
Geoffrey felt too much enraged to say much, but the old man went on.
“Helped Mr Penwynn! I suppose you would: the man who threw you over. Helped his girl, who threw you over, too, and who is going to marry John Tregenna some day.”
A fierce utterance was on Geoffrey’s lips, but this last remark of the old man seemed to silence him; and, prostrated by weariness and misery, he went on to the cottage, threw himself on his bed, and slept for twelve hours right away.