osure was somewhat
restored. He took a new pipe from the chimney-piece and began to fill
it, while Oliver related all that he knew of the conversation between
the two smugglers.

When he had finished Hitchin smoked for some minutes in silence.

"Do you really think," he said at length, "that the man means to do me
bodily harm?"

"I cannot tell," replied Oliver; "you can form your own judgment of the
matter more correctly than I can, but I would advise you to be on your
guard."

"What says your friend?" asked Hitchin, turning towards Tregarthen, of
whom, up to that point, he had taken no notice.

Thus appealed to, the youth echoed Oliver's opinion, and added that the
remark of Cuttance about his intention not to do something unknown
_that_ night, and Joe Tonkin's muttered expressions of disbelief and an
intention to watch, seemed to him sufficient to warrant unusual caution
in the matter of locks, bolts, and bars.

As he spoke there came a blinding flash of lightning, followed by a loud
and prolonged peal of thunder.

Oliver sprang up.

"We must bid you good-night," he said, "for we have to walk to St. Just,
and don't wish to get more of the storm than we can avoid."

"But you cannot escape it," said Hitchin.

"Nevertheless we can go as far as possible before it begins, and then
take shelter under a bush or hedge, or in a house if we chance to be
near one. I would rather talk in rain any day than drive in a
kittereen!"

"Pray be persuaded to stop where you are, gentlemen," said the old man
in a tone of voice that was marvellously altered for the better. "I can
offer you comfortable quarters for the night, and good, though plain
fare, with smuggled brandy of the best, and tobacco to match."

Still Oliver and Tregarthen persisted in their resolution to leave,
until Hitchin began to plead in a tone that showed he was anxious to
have their presence in the house as protectors. Then their resolution
began to waver, and when the old man hinted that they might thus find
time to reconsider the matter of the Wherry Mine, they finally gave in,
and made up their minds to stay all night.

According to the opinion of a celebrated poet, the best-laid plans of
men as well as mice are apt to miscarry. That night the elements
contrived to throw men's calculations out of joint, and to render their
cupidity, villainy, and wisdom alike ineffectual.

A storm, the fiercest that had visited them for many years, burst that