but Jollivet, with his wound breaking out when he is not down with touches of his old jungle fever, would be ten times worse. All the same, though, I have no doubt that the old mine is rich."
"But Arthur, my dear," protested Mrs Pendarve, "think of how much money has been--"
"Thrown down mines, my dear?" said the Colonel, smiling. "Yes I do, and I don't think our peaceful retired life is going to be disturbed by anything a mining adventurer may say."
"But it would be interesting, father," said Gwyn.
"Very, my boy," said his father, smiling. "It would give you and Joe Jollivet--"
"Old Joe Jolly-wet," said Gwyn to himself.
"A fine opportunity for trying to break your necks--"
"Oh, my dear!" cried Mrs Pendarve.
"Getting drowned in some unfathomable hole full of water."
"Arthur!" protested Mrs Pendarve.
"Losing yourself in some of the mazy recesses of the ancient workings."
"Really, my dear!" began Mrs Pendarve; but the Colonel went on--
"Or getting crushed to death by some fall of the mine roofing that has been tottering ready to fall perhaps for hundreds of years."
"Pray don't talk like that, my dear," said Mrs Pendarve, piteously.
"He doesn't mean it, mother," said Gwyn, laughing. "Father's only saying it to frighten me. But really, father, do you think the mine is so very old?"
"I have no doubt of it, my boy. It is certainly as old as the Roman occupation, and I should not be surprised if it proved to be as early as the time when the Phoenicians traded here for tin."
"But I thought it was only stream tin that they got. I read it somewhere."
"No doubt, my boy, they searched the surface for tin; but suppose you had been a sturdy fellow from Tyre or Sidon, instead of a tiresome, idle, mischievous young nuisance of an English boy--"
"Not quite so bad as that, am I, mother?" said Gwyn, laughing.
"That you are not, my dear," said Mrs Pendarve, "though I must own that you do worry me a great deal sometimes by being so daring with your boating, climbing and swimming."
"Oh, but I do take care--I do, really," said Gwyn, reaching out to lay his hand upon his mother's arm.
"Yes, just as much as any other thoughtless, reckless young dog would," grumbled the Colonel. "I'm always expecting to have one of the fishermen or miners come here with a head or an arm or a leg, and say he picked it up somewhere, and does it belong to my son?"
"Really, Arthur, you are too bad," began Mrs Pendarve.
"He's only teasing you, ma, dear," cried Gwyn, laughing. "But I say, father, what were you going to say about my being a Tyre and Sidonian?"
"Eh? Oh! That if you found tin in some gully on the surface, wouldn't you dig down to find it where it was richer?"
"Can't dig through granite," said Gwyn.
"Well, chip out the stone, and by degrees form a deep mine."
"Yes, I suppose I should, father."
"Of course it's impossible to prove how old the mine is, but it is in all probability very ancient."
"But it's only a deep hole, is it, father?"
"I cannot say. I never heard of its being explored; but there it is."
"I've explored it sometimes by sending a big stone down, so as to hear it rumble and echo."
"Yes, and I daresay hundreds of mischievous boys before you have done the same."
"Why was it called the Ydoll mine, father?"
"I cannot say, Gwyn. Some old Celtic name, or a corruption. It has always been called so, as far as I could trace when I bought the land; and there it is, and there let it remain in peace."
"If you please, my dear," said Mrs Pendarve. "Will you have some more coffee and bread and butter, Gwyn?"
The boy shook his head, for there are limits even to a seaside appetite.
"Wonderful!" said the Colonel.
"What is, my dear?" said Mrs Pendarve.
"Gwyn has had enough for once. Oh, and, by the way, I have had quite enough of that dog. If ever I find him scratching and tearing my garden about again, I'll pepper him with shot."
The boy smiled and looked at his mother.
"Oh, you may laugh, sir, at your foolish, indulgent father. I don't know what I could have been about to let you keep him. What do you want with a great collie?"
"He's such a companion, father; and see how clever he is after rabbits!"
"Matter of opinion," said the Colonel. "I don't suppose the rabbits think so. Well, mind this: I will not have him tearing about among my young fruit trees."
CHAPTER TWO.
A DEEP INVESTIGATION.
Breakfast ended, Gwyn went straight off to the yard with half a fish and some bread; but before he came in sight, there was the rattle of a chain, a burst of barking, and a handsome collie dog, with long silky ears and a magnificent frill
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