“If you lie, you lie enticingly, young man.”

“By gold, I mean stuff that shall make gold for you.  There is ore here, but what ore exactly I can’t tell till I’ve streamed it:  lead, I fancy, with a trace of silver—­wealth for you, certainly; and in what quantity you shall find out—­”

At this juncture a voice was heard calling over the hedge, at the bottom of the field.  It came from Young Zeb, the upper part of whose person, as he stood up in his cart, was just visible between two tamarisk bushes.

“Ru-b-y-y-y!”

“Drat the chap!” exclaimed Ruby’s father, wheeling round sharply.  “What d’ye wa-a-a-nt?” he yelled back.

“Come to know ‘bout that chest o’ dra-w-w-ers!”

“Then come ‘long round by th’ ga-a-ate!”

“Can’t sta-a-ay!  Want to know, as I’m drivin’ to Liskeard, if Ruby thinks nine-an’-six too mu-u-ch, as the twiddles be so very cle-v-ver!”

“How ridiculous!” muttered the stranger, just loud enough for Ruby to hear.  “Who is this absurd person?”

Jim Lewarne answered—­“A low-lived chap, mister, as saved your skin awhile back.”

“Dear, dear—­how unpardonable of me!  I hadn’t, the least idea at this distance.  Excuse me, I must go and thank him at once.”

He moved towards the hedge with a brisk step that seemed to cost him some pain.  The others followed, a pace or two behind.

“You’ll not mind my interruptin’, Farmer,” continued Young Zeb, “but ’tis time Ruby made her mind up, for Mister Pennyway won’t take a stiver less.  ‘Mornin’, Ruby, my dear.”

“And you’ll forgive me if I also interrupt,” put in the stranger, with the pleasantest smile, “but it is time I thanked the friend who saved my life on Monday morning.  I would come round and shake hands if only I could see the gate.”

“Don’t ’ee mention it,” replied Zeb, blushing hotly.  “I’m glad to mark ye lookin’ so brave a’ready.  Well, what d’ye say, Ruby?”

“I say ‘please yoursel’.’”

For of the two men standing before Ruby (she did not count her father and Jim Lewarne), the stranger, with his bold features and easy conciliating carriage, had the advantage.  It is probable that he knew it, and threw a touch of acting into his silence as Zeb cut him short.

“That’s a fair speech,” replied Zeb.  “Iss, turn it how you will, the words be winnin’ enow.  But be danged, my dear, if I wudn’ as lief you said, ‘Go to blazes!’”

“Fact is, my son,” said Farmer Tresidder, candidly, “you’m good but untimely, like kissin’ the wrong maid.  This here surpassin’ young friend o’ mine was speech-makin’ after a pleasant fashion in our ears when you began to bawl—­”

“Then you don’t want to hear about the chest o’ drawers?” interrupted Zeb in dudgeon, with a glance at Ruby, who pretended not to see it.

“Well, no.  To tell ’ee the slap-bang truth, I don’t care if I see no trace of ‘ee till the dancin’ begins to commence to-night.”