About this time that energetic promoter of mining operations, Mr George Augustus Clearemout, found it necessary to revisit Cornwall.
He was seated in an easy-chair in a snug2 little back-office, or board-room, in one of the airiest little streets of the City of London, when this necessity became apparent to him. Mr Clearemout did not appear to have much to do at that particular time, for he contented3 himself with tapping the arm of his easy-chair with the knuckles4 of his right hand, while he twirled his gold watch-key with his left, and smiled occasionally.
To judge from appearances it seemed that things in general were prospering5 with George Augustus. Everything about him was new, and, we might almost say, gorgeous. His coat and vest and pantaloons had a look and a cut about them that told of an extremely fashionable tailor, and a correspondingly fashionable price. His rings, of which he wore several, were massive, one of them being a diamond ring of considerable value. His boots were faultlessly made, quite new, and polished so highly that it dazzled one to look at them, while his linen6, of which he displayed a large quantity on the breast, was as white as snow—not London snow, of course! Altogether Mr G.A. Clearemout was a most imposing7 personage.
“Come in,” he said, in a voice that sounded like the deep soft whisper of a trombone.
The individual who had occasioned the command by tapping at the door, opened it just enough to admit his head, which he thrust into the room. It was a shaggy red head belonging to a lad of apparently8 eighteen; its chief characteristics being a prolonged nose and a retracted9 chin, with a gash10 for a mouth, and two blue holes for eyes.
“Please, sir, Mr Muddle11,” said the youth.
“Admit Mr Muddle.”
The head disappeared, and immediately after a gentleman sauntered into the room, and flung himself lazily into the empty armchair which stood at the fireplace vis-à-vis to the one in which Mr Clearemout sat, explaining that he would not have been so ceremonious had he not fancied that his friend was engaged with some one on business.
“How are you, Jack12?” said George Augustus.
“Pretty bobbish,” replied Jack. (He was the same Jack whom we have already introduced as being Mr Clearemout’s friend and kindred spirit.)
“Any news?” inquired Mr Clearemout.
“No, nothing moving,” said Jack languidly.
“H’m, I see it is time to stir now, Jack, for the wheel of fortune is apt to get stiff and creaky if we don’t grease her now and then and give her a jog. Here is a little pot of grease which I have been concocting13 and intend to lay on immediately.”
He took a slip of paper from a large pocket-book which lay at his elbow on the new green cloth-covered table, and handed it to his friend, who slowly opened and read it in a slovenly14 way, mumbling15 the most of it as he went on:—
“‘Wheal Dooem, in St. Just, Cornwall—mumble—m—m—in 10,000 shares. An old mine, m—m—every reason to believe—m—m—splendid lodes visible from—m—m. Depth of Adit fifty fathoms16—m—depth below Adit ninety fathoms. Pumps, whims17, engines, etcetera, in good working order—m—little expense—Landowners, Messrs—m—Manager at the Mine, Captain Trembleforem—m—thirteen men, four females, and two boys—m—water—wheels—stamps—m—Managing Director, George Augustus Clearemout, Esquire, 99 New Gull18 Street, London—m—Secretary, John Muddle, Esquire—ahem—’”
“But, I say, it won’t do to publish anything of this sort just yet, you know,” said Secretary Jack in a remonstrative19 tone, “for there’s nothing doing at all, I believe.”
“I beg your pardon,” replied the managing director, “there is a good deal doing. I have written to St. Just appointing the local manager, and it is probable that things are really under way by this time; besides, I shall set out for Cornwall to-morrow to superintend matters, leaving my able secretary in charge here in the meantime, and when he hears from me this paper may be completed and advertised.”
“I say, it looks awful real-like, don’t it?” said Jack, with a grin. “Only fancy if it should turn out to be a good mine after all—what a lark20 that would be! and it might, you know, for it was a real one once, wasn’t it? And if you set a few fellows to sink the what-d’ye-call-’ems and drive the thingumbobs, it is possible they may come upon tin and copper21, or something of that sort—wouldn’t it be jolly?”
“Of course it would, and that is the very thing that gives zest22 to it. It’s a speculation23, not a swindle by any means, and admirably suits our easy consciences. But, I say, Jack, you must break yourself off talking slang. It will never do to have the secretary of the Great Wheal Dooem Mining Company talk like a street boy. Besides, I hate slang even in a blackguard—not to mention a black-leg—so you must give it up, Jack, you really must, else you’ll ruin the concern at the very beginning.”
Secretary Jack started into animation24 at this.
“Why, George,” he said, drawing himself up, “I can throw it off when I please. Look here—suppose yourself an inquiring speculator—ahem! I assure you, sir, that the prospects25 of this mine are most brilliant, and the discoveries that have been made in it since we commenced operations are incredible—absolutely incredible, sir. Some of the lodes (that’s the word, isn’t it?) are immensely rich, and upwards26 of a hundred feet thick, while the part that runs under the sea, or is to run under the sea, at a depth of three thousand fathoms, is probably as rich in copper ore as the celebrated27 Botallack, whose majestic28 headland, bristling29 with machinery30, overhangs the raging billows of the wide Atlantic, etcetera, etcetera. O George, it’s a great lark entirely31!”
“You’ll have to learn your lesson a little better, else you’ll make a great mess of it,” said Clearemout.
“A muddle of it—according to my name and destiny, George,” said the secretary; “a muddle of it, and a fortune by it.”
Here the secretary threw himself back in the easy-chair, and grinned at the opposite wall, where his eye fell on a large picture, which changed the grin into a stare of surprise.
“What have we here, George,” he said, rising, and fitting a gold glass in his eye—“not a portrait of Wheal Dooem, is it?”
“You have guessed right,” replied the other. “I made a few sketches32 on the spot, and got a celebrated artist to put them together, which he has done, you see, with considerable effect. Here, in the foreground, you observe,” continued the managing director, taking up a new white pointer, “stands Wheal Dooem, on a prominent crag overlooking the Atlantic, with Gurnard’s Head just beyond. Farther over, we have the celebrated Levant Mine, and the famous Botallack, and the great Wheal Owles, and a crowd of other more or less noted33 mines, with Cape34 Cornwall, and the Land’s End, and Tolpedenpenwith in the middle-distance, and the celebrated Logan Rock behind them, while we have Mounts Bay, with the beautiful town of Penzance, and St. Michael’s Mount, and the Lizard35 in the background, with France in the remote distance.”
“Dear, dear me! quite a geographical36 study, I declare,” exclaimed Secretary Jack, examining the painting with some care. “Can you really see all these places at once from Wheal Dooem?”
“Not exactly from Wheal Dooem, Jack, but if you were to go up in a balloon a few hundred yards above the spot where it stands, you might see ’em all on a very clear day, if your eyes were good. The fact is, that I regard this picture as a triumph of art, exhibiting powerfully what is by artists termed ‘bringing together’ and great ‘breadth,’ united with exceedingly minute detail. The colouring too, is high—very high indeed, and the chiaroscuro37 is perfect—”
“Ha!” interposed Jack, “all the chiar being on the surface, and the oscuro down in the mine, eh?”
“Exactly so,” replied Clearemout. “It is a splendid picture. The artist regards it as his chef d’oeuvre, and you must explain it to all who come to the office, as well as those magnificent geological sections rolled-up in the corner, which it would be well, by the way, to have hung up without delay. They arrived only this morning. And now, Jack, having explained these matters, I will leave you, to study them at your leisure, while I prepare for my journey to Cornwall, where, by the way, I have my eye upon a sweet little girl, whose uncle, I believe, has lots of tin, both in the real and figurative sense of the word. Something may come of it—who knows?”
Next morning saw the managing director on the road, and in due time he found his way by coach, kittereen, and gig to St. Just, where, as before, he was hospitably38 received by old Mr Donnithorne.
That gentleman’s buoyancy of spirit, however, was not quite so great as it had been a few months before, but that did not much affect the spirits of Clearemout, who found good Mrs Donnithorne as motherly, and Rose Ellis as sweet, as ever.
It happened at this time that Oliver Trembath had occasion to go to London about some matter relating to his deceased mother’s affairs, so the managing director had the field all to himself. He therefore spent his time agreeably in looking after the affairs of Wheal Dooem during the day, and making love to Rose Ellis in the evening.
Poor Rose was by no means a flirt39, but she was an innocent, straightforward40 girl, ignorant of many of the world’s ways, and of a trusting disposition41. She found the conversation of Mr Clearemout agreeable, and did not attempt to conceal42 the fact. Mr Clearemout’s vanity induced him to set this down to a tender feeling, although Rose never consciously gave him, by word or look, the slightest reason to come to such a conclusion.
One forenoon Mr Clearemout was sitting in Mr Donnithorne’s dining-room conversing43 with Rose and Mrs Donnithorne, when the old gentleman entered and sat down beside them.
“I had almost forgotten the original object of my visit this morning,” said the managing director, with a smile, and a glance at Rose; “the fact is that I am in want of a man to work at Wheal Dooem, a steady, trustworthy man, who would be fit to take charge—become a sort of overseer; can you recommend one?”
Mr Donnithorne paused for a moment to reflect, but Mrs Donnithorne deeming reflection quite unnecessary, at once replied,—“Why, there are many such men in St. Just. There’s John Cock, as good a man as you could find in all the parish, and David Trevarrow, and James Penrose—he’s a first-rate man; You remember him, my dear?” (turning to her worse half)—“one of our locals, you know.”
“Yes, my dear, I remember him perfectly45.—You could not, Mr Clearemout, get a better man, I should say.”
“I think you observed, madam,” said Mr Clearemout, “that this man is a ‘local.’ Pray, what is a local?”
Rose gave one of her little laughs at this point, and her worthy44 aunt exclaimed,—“La! Mr Clearemout, don’t you know what a local preacher is?”
“Oh! a preacher? Connected with the Methodist body, I presume?”
“Yes, and a first-rate man, I assure you.”
“But,” said Mr Clearemout, with a smile, “I want a miner, not a preacher.”
“Well, he is a miner, and a good one too—”
“Allow me to explain, my dear,” said Mr Donnithorne, interrupting his spouse46. “You may not be aware, sir, that many of our miners are men of considerable mental ability, and some of them possess such power of speech, and so earnest a spirit, that the Wesleyan body have appointed them to the office of local preaching. They do not become ministers, however, nor are they liable to be sent out of the district like them. They don’t give up their ordinary calling, but are appointed to preach in the various chapels48 of the district in which they reside, and thus we accomplish an amount of work which could not possibly be overtaken by the ordinary ministry49.”
“Indeed! but are they not untrained men, liable to teach erroneous doctrine50?” asked Mr Clearemout.
“They are not altogether untrained men,” replied Mr Donnithorne. “They are subjected to a searching examination, and must give full proof of their Christianity, knowledge, and ability before being appointed.”
“And good, excellent Christian51 men many of them are,” observed Mrs Donnithorne, with much fervour.
“Quite true,” said her husband. “This James Penrose is one of our best local preachers, and sometimes officiates in our principal chapel47. I confess, however, that those who have the management of this matter are not always very judicious52 in their appointments. Some of our young men are sorely tempted53 to show off their acquirements, and preach themselves instead of the gospel, and there are one or two whom I could mention whose hearts are all right, but whose brains are so muddled54 and empty that they are utterly55 unfit to teach their fellows. We must not, however, look for perfection in this world, Mr Clearemout. A little chaff56 will always remain among the wheat. There is no system without some imperfection, and I am convinced that upon the whole our system of appointing local preachers is a first-rate one. At all events it works well, which is one of the best proofs of its excellence57.”
“Perhaps so,” said Mr Clearemout, with the air of a man who did not choose to express an opinion on the subject; “nevertheless I had rather have a man who was not a local preacher.”
“You can see and hear him, and judge for yourself,” said Mr Donnithorne; “for he is, I believe, to preach in our chapel to-morrow, and if you will accept of a seat in our pew it will afford my wife and myself much—”
“Thank you,” interrupted Mr Clearemout; “I shall be very glad to take advantage of your kind offer. Service, you say, begins at—”
“Ten precisely,” said Mr Donnithorne.
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1
confidential
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| adj.秘（机）密的，表示信任的，担任机密工作的 | |
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2
snug
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| adj.温暖舒适的，合身的，安全的；v.使整洁干净，舒适地依靠，紧贴；n.（英）酒吧里的私房 | |
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3
contented
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| adj.满意的，安心的，知足的 | |
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4
knuckles
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| n.（指人）指关节( knuckle的名词复数 )；（指动物）膝关节，踝v.（指人）指关节( knuckle的第三人称单数 )；（指动物）膝关节，踝 | |
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5
prospering
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| 成功，兴旺( prosper的现在分词 ) | |
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6
linen
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| n.亚麻布，亚麻线，亚麻制品；adj.亚麻布制的，亚麻的 | |
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7
imposing
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| adj.使人难忘的，壮丽的，堂皇的，雄伟的 | |
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8
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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9
retracted
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| v.撤回或撤消( retract的过去式和过去分词 )；拒绝执行或遵守；缩回；拉回 | |
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10
gash
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| v.深切，划开；n.(深长的)切(伤)口；裂缝 | |
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11
muddle
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| n.困惑，混浊状态；vt.使混乱，使糊涂，使惊呆；vi.胡乱应付，混乱 | |
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12
jack
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| n.插座，千斤顶，男人；v.抬起，提醒，扛举；n.（Jake）杰克 | |
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13
concocting
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| v.将（尤指通常不相配合的）成分混合成某物( concoct的现在分词 )；调制；编造；捏造 | |
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14
slovenly
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| adj.懒散的，不整齐的，邋遢的 | |
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15
mumbling
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| 含糊地说某事，叽咕，咕哝( mumble的现在分词 ) | |
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16
fathoms
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| 英寻( fathom的名词复数 ) | |
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17
WHIMS
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| 虚妄，禅病 | |
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18
gull
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| n.鸥；受骗的人；v.欺诈 | |
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19
remonstrative
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| adj.抗议的，忠告的 | |
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lark
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| n.云雀，百灵鸟；n.嬉戏，玩笑；vi.嬉戏 | |
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21
copper
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| n.铜；铜币；铜器；adj.铜(制)的；(紫)铜色的 | |
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22
zest
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| n.乐趣；滋味，风味；兴趣 | |
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23
speculation
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| n.思索，沉思；猜测；投机 | |
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24
animation
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| n.活泼，兴奋，卡通片／动画片的制作 | |
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25
prospects
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| n.希望，前途(恒为复数) | |
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26
upwards
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| adv.向上，在更高处...以上 | |
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27
celebrated
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| adj.有名的，声誉卓著的 | |
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28
majestic
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| adj.雄伟的，壮丽的，庄严的，威严的，崇高的 | |
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29
bristling
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| a.竖立的 | |
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30
machinery
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| n.(总称)机械，机器；机构 | |
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31
entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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32
sketches
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| n.草图( sketch的名词复数 )；素描；速写；梗概 | |
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noted
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| adj.著名的，知名的 | |
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34
cape
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| n.海角，岬；披肩，短披风 | |
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35
lizard
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| n.蜥蜴，壁虎 | |
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36
geographical
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| adj.地理的；地区(性)的 | |
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37
chiaroscuro
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| n.明暗对照法 | |
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38
hospitably
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| 亲切地，招待周到地，善于款待地 | |
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39
flirt
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| v.调情，挑逗，调戏；n.调情者，卖俏者 | |
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40
straightforward
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| adj.正直的，坦率的；易懂的，简单的 | |
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41
disposition
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| n.性情，性格；意向，倾向；排列，部署 | |
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42
conceal
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| v.隐藏，隐瞒，隐蔽 | |
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43
conversing
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| v.交谈，谈话( converse的现在分词 ) | |
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44
worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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45
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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46
spouse
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| n.配偶(指夫或妻) | |
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47
chapel
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| n.小教堂，殡仪馆 | |
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48
chapels
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| n.小教堂， （医院、监狱等的）附属礼拜堂( chapel的名词复数 )；（在小教堂和附属礼拜堂举行的）礼拜仪式 | |
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49
ministry
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| n.(政府的)部；牧师 | |
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50
doctrine
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| n.教义；主义；学说 | |
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51
Christian
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| adj.基督教徒的；n.基督教徒 | |
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52
judicious
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| adj.明智的，明断的，能作出明智决定的 | |
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53
tempted
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| v.怂恿（某人）干不正当的事；冒…的险（tempt的过去分词） | |
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54
muddled
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| adj.混乱的；糊涂的；头脑昏昏然的v.弄乱，弄糟( muddle的过去式)；使糊涂；对付，混日子 | |
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55
utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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56
chaff
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| v.取笑，嘲笑；n.谷壳 | |
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57
excellence
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| n.优秀，杰出，(pl.)优点，美德 | |
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