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soon be astir. His children s lept on. Deme lza slept on. He dressed and went out again. The sun was still shining but clouds were marching like rioting miners out of the western sky. He walked up to Wheal Grace. The engine was tirelessly working, pumping up the water that for ever accumulated in the sump. Two tin stamps clanged. He had intended having a chat with whichever of the Curnow brothers was in charge of the engine but at the last moment changed his direction and walked towards Grambler. He felt full of energy and the sort of elation that came rarely now. All this was total contrast with the noisy sooty streets of London. But perhaps contrast was a necessary part of appreciation.
    Henshawc, the grass captain of Wheal Grace, lived at the far end of the poverty-stricken straggle of cottages and hovels that made up Gramble r village, and was up and about, as Ross knew he would be.
    'Why, Cap'n Ross. I'd no idea you'd be back so soon. Going back to the mine, are you? I'll walk with you so far as her, if you've the mind. But how about a dish of tea first?'
    So it was nearly six before they left, and the cores were changing as they reached the mine. Those miners who knew him well clustered round him, talking and joking and asking questions and telling him local gossip; but he noticed an element of reserve that had not been there before. Apart from that independence of mind natural to Cornishmen, who were not accustomed to bowing low to their squires in the way of upcountry folk, was the fact that many of these men had been his companions in boyhood. Joshua, his father, unlike Charles, Francis's father, had drawn no barrier when Ross was young, so the boys had gone line-fishing together, had wrestled, had picnicked, had played wild games in the sandhills, had later sailed over to France in company to bring back brandy and rum. Even after Ross returned from America, a scarred and limping veteran of twenty-four, it had always been an easy relationship, the differences of station acknowledged but largely ignored. Now there was a change, and he realized why. By accepting Viscount Falmouth's invitation and being elected for one of the seats in Truro he had 'gone up' in the world. He wasn't just a J.P. who sat on a bench and solved local problems and dispensed local justice: he was a member of Parliament, and Parliament, for better or worse, made new laws for the land. They probably thought privately that there weren't many laws necessary except the laws of God.
    He had not yet broken his fast and was hungry, but it seemed the right moment to get a hat and a candle and go down with the new core. That, if anything, would re-establish the ol d camaraderie; besides, Henshawe 's news was not of the best and he wanted to see everything for himself.
    But it had to be postponed. The others were filing down, taking it in turn to step on to the ladder that would take them two hundred feet below ground, where they would spend eight hours of the bright day, and he was waiting for Henshawe , when a lighter footstep made him turn. It was Demelza, with Jeremy and Clowance.
    'Captain Poldark,' she said. ‘I have two friends for you.'
    Then he was engulfed.

III
    'I did not know whether to tell you or not,' said Dcmclaa. 'Captain Henshawe came and told me, and as he does not write very easy I thought perhaps I must pass it on.'
    It was nearly dinner-time and they were sitting together on the old wall beside the stile, looking on to Hcndrawna Beach. The day had turned cold, and Demelza was wearing a cloak. The children were on the beach, but they were far away at the water's edge and Betsy Maria was looking after them.
    'I don't think from a first look it is quite as bad as Henshawe supposes. It's true the south lode - the one we found first - which has brought up such riches - is wearing unexpected thin. It took everyone by surprise for it began in great depth and there was no reason to suppose it would not be so uniform over most of its