“He’s seen before great storms, however,” said Trevethick; “you ask the coast-guard men, and hear what they say.  There’s many a craft has put out to her from Gethin, and come quite close, so that a man might almost reach her with a boat-hook, and then, all of a sudden, there is nothing to be seen but the big waves.”

John Trevethick had more to say to the same effect, to which Richard listened with attentive courtesy; while at the same time he held to the same skeptical view entertained by Solomon.  Thus he won the good opinion of both men; and of that of the girl he felt already assured.  He scarcely ever addressed himself to Harry, and as much as possible avoided gazing at her.  If the idea of his paying any serious attention to her had ever been put into her father’s mind, the intelligence that he had been the friend and guest of Carew’s had been probably sufficient to dissipate it:  the social position which that fact implied seemed to make it out of the question that he should be Harry’s suitor.  It only remained for him to disabuse Solomon of the same notion.  This was at first no easy task; but the stubbornness with which his rival resisted his attempts at conciliation gave way by degrees, and at last vanished.  To have been able to make common cause with him upon this question of local superstition was a great point gained.  Solomon had a hard head, and prided himself upon his freedom from such weaknesses; and he hailed an ally in a battle-field on which he had contended at odds, five nights out of every seven, for years.  Harry, as we have seen, shared her father’s sentiments in the matter; and it was a great stroke of policy in Richard to have espoused the other side.  He would, of course, have much preferred to agree with her—­to have embraced any view which had the attraction of her advocacy; but it now gave him genuine pleasure to find his opposition exciting her to petulance.  She was not petulant with Solomon, but left her father to tilt with him after his own fashion.

From the superstitions of the coast they fought their way to those of the mines.  Old Trevethick believed in “Knockers” and “Buccas,” spirits who indicate the position of good lodes by blows with invisible picks; and, as these had more immediate connection with his own affairs than the nautical phenomena, he clung to his creed with even greater tenacity than before.  So fierce was their contention that it was with difficulty that Richard could put in an inquiry as to whence these spirits came who thus interested themselves in the success of human ventures.

“I know nothing of that,” said Trevethick, frankly, “any more than I know where that wind comes from that is shaking yonder pane; I only know that it is there.”

“Nay, father, but I know,” said Harry, with a little blush at her own erudition:  “the Buccas are the ghosts of the old Jews who crucified our Lord, and were sent as slaves by the Roman emperor to work the Cornish mines.”