"Who, in the Fiend's name, are you ?" "I am the only son and heir of Carew of Crompton," answered the young man, deliberately.
"You?
Why, Carew never had a son," exclaimed Trevethick, incredulously; "leastways, not a lawful one.

He was married once to a wench of the name of Hardcastle, 'tis true; but that was put aside." "I tell you I am Carew's lawful son, nevertheless," persisted Richard.
"My mother was privately married to him.

Ask Parson Whymper, and he will tell you the same.

It is true that my father has not acknowledged me, but I shall have my rights some day--and Wheal Danes along with the rest." The news of the young man's paternity must have been sufficiently startling to him who thus received it for the first time, and would, under any other circumstances, have doubtless excited his phlegmatic nature to the utmost; but what concerns ourselves in even a slight degree is, with some of us, more absorbing than the most vital interests of another; and thus it was with Trevethick.

The ambitious pretensions of his lodger sank into insignificance--notwithstanding that, for the moment, he believed in them; for how, unless he was what he professed to be, could he know so much ?--before the disappointment which had befallen himself in the overthrow of a long-cherished scheme.
"Why, Mr.Whymper wrote me with his own hand," growled he, "that in his judgment the mine was worthless, and that he had done all he could to persuade the Squire to sell.