admission of the truth of Richard's statement.

If force of language and bitterness of tone could have made up for his
previous neglect, the Squire's letter was an apology in itself. It was
short, but sharp and decisive. "The grain of truth," he wrote, "among
the bushel of lies that this young gentleman has told you is, that he
was once a guest under my roof--I forget whether for two nights or
three. He will never be there again--neither now nor after I am in my
box" (this was the Squire's playful way of alluding to the rites of
sepulture). "He has no more claim upon me than any other of my
bastards--of whom I have more than I know of--and in fact less, for I
may have deceived their mothers, whereas his played a trick on me. As to
his expectations from me, I can only tell you this much, that I expect
he will come to be hanged; as for interest, whatever he may have with my
son of a she-dog of a chaplain, he has none with me; and as for money,
so far as I know, he is a pauper, and likely to remain so as long as he
lives." There were other sentences spurted from the volcano of the
Squire's wrath, but to the same effect.

"A nice letter of recommendation, truly, and from his own father, of the
young gentleman who asked me for my daughter's hand!" growled
Trevethick. "You ought to be thankful to get out of Gethin with whole
bones. If 'Sol' was to come to know of what you asked of me, I would not
answer for even so much as that, I promise you."

"'Sol' might have known of it had you not chosen to keep it from him,
for reasons best known to yourself," said Richard, quietly. "You have
taken some time to make up your mind between us."

Trevethick winced; for the promise of the young man's interest with
respect to Wheal Danes had, in fact, been the bait which had tempted him
to temporize so long. He had never meant to give his daughter to
Richard; but he had hoped to reap an advantage, present or future, out
of the implied intention; nor did he know even yet in what relation
Richard stood with Parson Whymper.

"At all events, it's made up now," answered the landlord, curtly.

"This letter has caused you to decide against me, then?"

"That letter? Well, of course it has. Not that there ain't a heap of
other reasons; but that one's enough, I should think, even for you."

"It is just such a letter as I should have expected Carew to pen,"
observed Richard, coolly, "and does not alter the facts of the case as I
stated them to