The tin lode did not peter out. In a week they found that ore-bearing rock existed in a great mass, at this point. No one knew how far it yet extended, but Ross began to feel himself infected with some of the general excitement. In another week they were raising the ore, in quantity; and even allowing for the difficulties of dressing, there was the prospect of a
return.
To keep down expenditure, all work on the copper lodes -
such as they were
-
was suspended, and for the same reason other trying decisions had to be made. They were working an underhand stope, and already there was a worked-out open space above them. Very soon it would be dangerous to go on without timbermen and props for support. Already it was uneconomic, for no lode is constant in size and quality; and instead of eating at it in this unscientific way, they should have been making a series of right-angled shafts and levels to cut the lode at different
depths
and to create reserves of explored ground, That was the methodical way, but lack of capital forced th
em to live from hand to mouth.
No rumour of the momentous decision taken at
Cusgarne
reached the outside world., On a visit to Truro, Ross met Richard Tonkin, whom, he had not seen for a year, and told him of the discovery of tin. Tonkin drew on his own experience to be encouraging, and, having at one time,
been manager of United, Mines,
his experience was considerable. He himself was no lon
ger in .mining, having
six months before bought a small boatbuilding business in East Looe in partnership with Harry Blewett
-
another
sufferer in the Carnmore Copper
failure and one to whom Ross had lent money at the time of the crash. They were making a good living out of their venture.
Ross parted from him slightly encouraged
by his comments. 'If one could
just keep go
ing, even with the most modest
return, it would justify all manner of things within himself,
it would maintain the men working on the mine, it would help everyone connected with the venture to a new
self-respect.
The following week end, Verity, Francis's sister, visited Elizabeth. She had not been to Trenwith since her
brother died; but this
was a long-dated invitation, and the ice had to be broken sometime. Elizabeth too forced herself, not to go back on the arrangement, though with so much milling in her heart and
head.
Verity brought
her
stepson James
Blarney who had arrived unexpectedly for a few days' leave. Young, noisy, warmhearted, attractively fond of his stepmother in a boyish, roughly gentle way, James helped to keep the spectres at arm's length.
They were much concerned when they learned of Mrs. Chynoweth's illness and offered to leave at once, but Elizabeth would not hear of it. He
r mother was well looked after
now. A nurse had been engaged and two new servants, and one could only
wait and
hope that in a few weeks she would be well enough to be moved. Verity wondered at the word 'now,' which seemed rather often to creep into Elizabeth's conversa
tion.
James was op
enmouthed at Elizabeth's beauty
-
as young
men so often were
-
and enjoyed himself cantering about the, countryside on a borrowed nag. He joined Verity on several of her visits to old friends and went with her to Nampara for Sunday dinner and tea. Demelza was waiting for them, and she and Verity hugged each Other while Ross shook James Blarney
's hand. Then James had to kiss
Demelza, so that it was some moments before she had
the breath to ask the question
Ross had forced himself not to ask.
But
isn't Elizabeth with you?'
`No. She
was to have been, but a severe headache came on. She's much worried, you know, over her mother. She sent her love as well as her apologies.'
They went in, and talked and
laughed perhaps more easily than they might have done in Elizabeth's presence, While they were talking of Ross's mission to see Mark Daniel, Verity's eyes strayed out of the window and confirmed their earlier impression that the engine chimney was still smoking.
She said `But I see you have not yet given up.’
Ross explained.
'We exist on a shoe-string and e
verything's against us. But the
quality of the ore this
week is remarkable-fortunately
for every expen
se of development must
be paid for out of what we raise and a single fault in the lode will see our end.'
'D'you know,' said James Blarney in his big voice, `I have never been down a mine yet, tho
ugh it is unnatural in me to be
so neglectful. How deep is your bilge, Captain? Do you climb all the way or do you have one of these newfangled buckets?'
`Perhaps after dinner James would like to go down, Ross,'' Demelza suggested.
'By all means.'
'Ha!
so I should,' said James, `though I've a fancy I shall get, dizzy climbing the wrong way from usual. When you're in the foremast shrouds, 'tis m
ost comforting to see the deck
be
low you, even 'if 'tis only the
size
of a visiting card. In a mine I should expect to fly up to the surface if
I lost my grip!'
Just
before dinner Dwight came. A w
eek ago Demelza had tackled him about the breakup of his plan to marry Caroline and so now felt a greater than ever responsibility for his wel
fare.
Nevertheless he was no damper on the party, being specially interested in James Blarney and
medical conditions in the Navy.
James laughed at his questions. When you were afloat, you didn't dare to be ill. If you were, you got dosed with a purge or an emetic a
ccording to where the pain was.
Last voyage on his ship there'd been thirty death
s from scurvy alone. James had
left the Thunderer and had joined the fri
gate Hunter in a squadron under
Admiral Gell. They were at present in Plymouth Sound but under sailing, orders for next week, destination yet unknown but probably the Mediterranean, James's concern, like Captain McNeil's, was les
t the war should be over before he could
have any part in it.
After dinner Dwight
left and Ross took James off to
the mine, so the two women were left alone.
At first they talked of Jeremy, and then quit
e suddenly Verity broke off the conversation to say
:
`Tell me, my dear, have you noticed anything strange about Elizabeth?'
`In what way strange?' asked Demelza, her senses instantly alert. `I've scarcely seen her.'
`Well, it's hard to
define. But I think she has recovered quickly from her bereavement, has she not? Oh, I know it's six months, and no one would expect her to grieve for ever; it is not quite that
-
but she seems different in same way,
a
little on edge, as if innerly
excited. Once as twice in conversation she has checked herself, as if afraid of saying too much'
'To you? This week end?'
'Yes. I believe I
am not imagining it. I know her quite well as we lived so long together. One gets the impression that she thinks her circumstances, are going to change.'
They may already
have changed, thought Demelza, remembering the six hundred pounds. 'You should ask Ross,' she said.
Verity looked at Demelza.
`That sounds a trifle bitter,
my dear. Are you sure you have reason to be?'
Demelza looked up quickly, then smiled. `Did it? It was not at all meant to be. I know Ross loved Elizabeth once; so when he goes to, see her I'd not be human if I did, not wonder what they say to each other. Would I? Ross does not tell me what they say, and 'tis not in my pride to ask, so
I
never learn.' She got up, looking
down
at Verity, now stooped and kissed her forehead. `I should not have said that much if you hadn't asked me, but you did, and so I answered. Verity, would you care for a cup of tea? It is early, but all this talking has, made me thirsty.'
`I'd like one. But just let me say
-
and I do not say this for your comfort
-
if Ross were..’
No,' said Demelza, `I 'don't think you should need to say that, whether for my comfort or no. Having a
husband,
it seems to me, is a small matter like going to church. Either you trust in something or you do not, If you do not, then there's no benefit in going to church at all, is there? But if you
do believe in him, then you've
no excuse to be asking, for proofs, all the time.'
`That's a very admirable outlook
`Oh, yes, and I am not always very admirable.
Seldom
indeed. But it is true, isn't it; and that's more important than the feelings you feel sometimes. Verity, tell me about yourself for a change. You are happy, quite happy? I dearly love James. 1 sho
uld like Jeremy to grow up like
James. He's like a west wind, gusty and clean and no breath of malice. I think he has quite fallen in love with you.'
Verity caught her smile and swiftly answered it.
`I love James like my own son. Yes, I'm happy, Demelza, or would be without the fear for Andrew's safety. So far there
has, been no trouble for
the packets, and
he says he takes a more westerly course to avoid
possible
attack. But he must
come
through the narrower waters between the Scillies and Ushant, and there is never any knowing now. You know
what that feeling is.'
When
they
were in bed that night Demelza told, Ross that Verity was going to have a baby.
'What?' Ross leaned up on one elbow. `That is a surprise! Brave news!' Are you sure?'
'She told me so herself. As yet it is a secret. Andrew doesn't know and she wishes to keep it to herself f
or the time. Isn't it good? I'm
that pleased for them both.'
'So am I. When is it to be?'
`About October.'
'She will be thirty-five this year. I hope all will. go well.'
''Oh, it
is
no age, Ross, though I
believe
she, is a little anxious in t
hat respect herself. It will be
strange for Andrew with his daughter nearly twenty; but I know he'll be delighted and I urged her to tell him so soon as possible.'
'I have never noti
ced you overready with your own news. Indeed, it was my
greatest complaint on both occasions.'
`Let's not go into that now,' said Demelza.
Later, in the darkness, her thought moved on to that other subject which had been nagging at her all afternoon.
Why had Elizabeth given: Verity
the impression that her circumstances were so
on going to change? In what way could
her circumstances now change more than they already had d
one from the receipt of the six
hundred pounds? It didn't make sense; and the more she went
over the ordinary explanations, the less satisfied she
was by them. At length Ross, who had been asleep, said:
'My dear, are you, eaten by ants that you must toss and
turn all
night long?'
'I'm sorry. It is something that will not let me sleep, I will be quieter now.'
'Are you upset or feeling ill?'
'No, no, in rudest health. Just can't settle. I shall be better now.'
Easy enough to p
redict. No sooner did her limbs
compose themselves in momentary ease than the urge began to move them el
sewhere. Even an inch. Even a
half inch.
Were Ross and Elizabeth planning to run away together?' Was than the change, of circumstances Elizabeth foresaw? That would not bring any greater prosperity to her, but perhaps she did not refer to financial circumstances at all. Demelza would have taken t
his more seriously if Ross had not
been lying beside her now,
his breathing becoming
deeper again as he went off, to sleep. It was not at all improbable, she felt, that they would like to do that; but, knowing Ross so well, she was certain he would not do it this way. He was far too honest a person to do anything underhand. If he was going to leave her and go
with Elizabeth, he would force
himself to tell her.
Very well, but perhaps he would tell her
when the time
came. Perhaps Elizabeth had said: `Keep it from her as long as you
can for her sake.'
In the dark of the night
Demelza could hear her say it.
Yet even that did not tally with Ross's manner or moods. Yesterday he had been cheerful, more high sp
irited than she remembered him
since Julia died. That was because of the min
e, not Elizabeth. Demelza would
have staked her head that it was a mine
-
cheerfulness and not a
woman
-
cheerfulness.
Then did George Warleggan come into Elizabeth's picture somewhere? Demelza suddenly went rigid. Something Sir Hugh Bodrugan had said, more than she had told Ross. A hint, no more. Did he know more?
Had Demelza been certain at this stage that the mystery she was trying, to solve concerned
only
Elizabeth and
George, she would
have gone no further with it. But she was still by no means sure.
So tomorrow ...
In visiting Sir Hugh Bodrugan she knew she was on thin ice. Ross strongly disapproved o
f her giving any encouragement
to his attentions. In the second place Sir Hugh, though playful enough most times, was becoming less easy to keep at arm's length
. The
rumour was that he was deep in an affair with a woman called Margaret Vosper. If it were so, it did not abate his inte
rest in Demelza. Perhaps having
one easy conquest had made him less patient with young women who were too long on the hook.,
To avert these twin dangers, or to re
duce them, she waited until the
Wednesday when she knew Ross would be most of the day down the mine, and she went in the morning when Sir Hugh's' gallantry was likely to be at its lowest ebb.
'In the event she was a little
unfortunate, for Sir Hugh was out and was not expected back until dinnertime. Constance Bodrugan was also off with her dogs, so Demelza found herself drinking chocolate with the one member of the household able to entertain her and the one she least wanted to see.
She had not expected to;
meet Malcolm
McNeil, again, and she half expected him to show some resentent; but he greeted her like an old friend. His arm was, till in a sling and he
had put on
weight from the enforced idleness.' She always dressed her best to come to Werry House, and, McNeil's eyes; she thought, were bolder than usual in his assessment of
her. No doubt the degenerate influence of the Bodrugan
household was having its effect.
When she was trying to think of the best excuse to leave,
he suggested that as it was a fine
morning
they should stroll
across the park and tr
y to find Sir Hugh. It should n
ot be
difficult, since he was rounding up his young deer and his
gamekeepers would be with
him.
They set off down the steps and along the path between
the unkempt lawns. He found her long stride unusual in a
woman.'
`And how is Captain Poldark?'
'Brave, thank you. That busy with his mine'
`I had hoped I should receive, an invitation to visit you
before, I left.'
`
Last, time you came without an invitation.'
`That was in
the course of duty. This would
be in the
pursuit of pleasure.'
`Then come any time, please. I know Ross would be glad
to see you.'
`And you?'
‘And I, of course.
When do; you expect to go?'
`Not for some weeks. That's if I continue to take notice
of your, doctor-smuggler friend.'
`He is a very good man to take notice of.'
`I still find it hard to understand his association with the
smugglers.'
`Have you asked him about it?' `Frequently.'
`If he has refused to explain, Captain McNeil, I don't think
I should begin.'
They walked on in silence, passing a herd of abut thirty
deer who without exception raised their heads and watched suspiciously until the danger retreated.
`Captain
Poldark was somewhere in the house that night, wasn't he?'
`How
should you expect me to answer that?'