"
"Wrong Walter Clifford with my eyes open? He is the last man in the
world that I would wrong in money matters. I have got a stern account
against him, and I will begin it by speaking the truth and giving him
back his own."
Here the interview was interrupted by an honest miner, one Jim Perkins.
He came in hurriedly, and, like people of that class, thrust everybody
else's business out of his way. "You are wanted at the mine, Mr. Hope.
The shoring of the old works is giving way, and there's a deal of water
collecting in another part."
"I'll come at once," said Hope; "the men's lives must not be endangered.
Have the cage ready." Jim walked away.
Hope turned to Bartley.
"Pray understand, Mr. Bartley, that this is my last visit to your mine."
"One moment, Hope," cried Bartley in despair; "we have been friends so
long, surely you owe me something."
"I do."
"Well, then, I'll make you rich for life if you will but let Mary return
to me and only just be silent; speak neither for me nor against me;
surely that is not much for an old friend to ask.
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