On his daylight visit to the cottage at Reath, Ross had also noted the turret among the trees on the farther slope. It was one of the gatehouses of Mingoose and was in a bad state, but there were a number of usable rooms still and Ross had an idea.
He took it to Mr. Horace Treneglos, who tramped across regularly to inspect their mine since it was showing a return.
“Who is this Dwight Enys, what?” Mr. Treneglos shouted. “Think you he’s worth encouraging? Think you he’s experienced at his profession?”
“Enys is eager, sharp, and keen. It is good to encourage youth, and Choake has no intention of serving us since I quarreled with him.”
“I wisht we’d found a quieter place for our lode,” said Mr. Treneglos, clutching at his hat. “It is always so damned windy up here. For my part, as you know, I’ve no great fancy for these physical people, young or old. But I’m out to please you, and if the Gatehouse would satisfy the stripling he may have it at some nominal rent for the repairing.”
A fortnight later there was a ticketing at Truro, to which Wheal Leisure Mine was sending two parcels of ore, so Ross rode in early and called on the Pascoes before the auction began. Dwight Enys was away, but he wrote him a note and left.
Samples of the ore to be marketed had already been examined and tested and whispered over by agents of the copper companies, and at those ticketings it was left only for the various companies to put in a bid for the ore. Not for them the vulgar excitement of a common auction, where one buyer ran another up higher than he wanted to go. Instead, each company put in a bid in writing, the chairman opened those offering tickets, and the consignments of copper went to the company that had put in the highest bid.
The bidding that day was even poorer than of late, and some parcels of ore went for less than half their real value. It was the custom of the companies when they did not want a particular parcel to put in a very low bid nevertheless, and if, as not infrequently happened, every other company did the same, one of those low bids made the sale. It meant a heavy loss for the mine concerned, and in the present state of trade no mine could afford it.
A great dinner at the inn always followed the ticketing, given by the mines, at which buyers and sellers—the lions and the lambs, as a wry humorist called them—sat down together, but there was a noticeable lack of good spirits among the feasters. Ross had been surprised to see Francis at the sale—usually the manager of Grambler came—and he knew it to be a sign that his cousin was making a last bid to keep Grambler Mine on its great unwieldy feet.
For all his poise, he looked harassed and inept, and as if threatened by specters that existed in half-ignored corners of his mind.
On his left, Ross had Richard Tonkin, the manager and one of the shareholders in United Mines—the largest tin- and copper-producing combine in the county—and halfway through the meal Tonkin whispered in Ross’s ear, “I trust you have made some progress with your scheme.”
Ross looked at him.
“You mean the extension at Wheal Leisure?”
Tonkin smiled. “No, sir. The project for forming a copper smelting company to promote the interests of the mines.”
Ross’s look became a stare. “I have no such project in hand, Mr. Tonkin.”
The other man was a little incredulous. “I hope you are joking. Mr. Blewett told me…and Mr. Aukett…that there was some prospect of such a scheme. I should have been very happy to lend my aid.”
“Mr. Blewett and Mr. Aukett,” said Ross, “made much of a chance discussion. I have not given it another thought.”
“That comes as a very great disappointment to me. I was in hope—others too were in hope—that something would arise from it. There can surely be little doubt that we have need of such a company.”
The dinner broke up with men going off in twos and threes to find their horses and ride home before dusk, some staying at the table to sup a last glass of port or nod tipsily over a snuffbox, others talking in groups on the way downstairs or at the door of the inn.
Ross stayed behind to talk with Francis. Though there was no ill will between them, they saw little of each other. Ross had heard that Grambler Mine had been reprieved for the time being, but he kept the conversation to family topics, being afraid of treading on Francis’s sensitive corns.
Chatting amiably, they went downstairs, where the innkeeper touched Ross on the arm.
“Beg your pardon, sir, but would you oblige a man by steppin’ this way, just for a small matter of a moment or two? An’ you too, sir, if ’tis agreeable an’ convenient.”
Ross stared at him and went down two steps into his private parlor. It was a gloomy little room, for the windows looked out upon a high wall, but occupying it, in varying positions of comfort, were fourteen men.
Francis, following him in, stumbled over the house cat, swore and raised his foot to kick away the obstruction, then saw what it was and picked the animal up by its scruff, coming into the room close behind Ross and elbowing him farther in.
“God’s my life,” he said, looking around.
It was not until Ross recognized Tonkin and Blewett and Aukett among the men that he smelled what was in the wind.
“Sit down, Captain Poldark,” said Harry Blewett, vacating a chair by the window. “Glad we was able to catch you before you took your leave.”
“Thanks,” said Ross. “I’ll stand.”
“Damn,” said Francis. “It looks like a pesky Bible meeting. Here, beast, you shall be chairman, and mind you call us to order.” He leaned forward and dropped the cat on the empty seat.
“Captain Poldark,” Tonkin said, “it was fortunate that you were late in coming down, for we have had the chance of talking together here in private, those of us you see around you, and no doubt you have an idea what our subject has been.”
“I have an idea,” said Ross.
“Sink me if I can say the same,” remarked Francis.
“We would like your word, sir,” a big man named Johnson leaned across and said to Francis, “that anything that passes here is in the strictest confidence.”
“Very well.”
“We may take it that you find no satisfaction in the business done today?” Richard Tonkin asked.
Grambler had been one of the worst sufferers. “You may take that,” said Francis, “and pin it where you will.”
“No, well, there’s many of us here feels quite the same. And we’ve met here and now to say what’s to be done by it.”
Francis said, “Then we’re here to set the world to rights. It will be a long session.”
“Not so long as might be,” Tonkin said quietly. “For we have a plan in mind, Mr. Poldark, which is to form a copper company of our own, one that will exist outside the ring, will give fair prices for the ore, will smelt the copper in this county, and will market the refined product direct. All of us here, more than a dozen, are willing to join together, and between us we stand for a fair share of the mines in this area. And between us, even in these hard times, we can lay our hands on a measure of cash. But this is a small beginning, Mr. Poldark, to what will surely come to us when the project gets about—if it can be done privately and in the right way. And there’s some of the richest mines not here today. In good times unfair prices can be borne because there is a margin for all, but in bad times like the present, there’s only one way out short of bankruptcy for half of us here!”
There was a deep murmur of assent from the men in the room. Ross saw that most of the principal sellers of the day were present. He realized that something was in motion that could not be stopped. Tonkin was the eloquent one: he put into words what the others felt.
“Well, it all rings very agreeable, I believe you,” said Francis. “But you’ll be biting off no small mouthful of trouble, one way with another. The copper companies want no cutthroat competition and the banks will be behind ’em. Certain people—”
“Well, trouble’s better’n starvation,” Blewett said.
“Aye, we’re not afraid of trouble!”
Francis raised his eyebrows slightly. “I would not disagree with you, gentlemen.”
“Mind you,” said Tonkin, “all this is but a beginning. I know—we all know—there’s things to be faced. What’s right and just isn’t always easy to come by. But while we were all here together was a convenient time to see the wheels set in motion. And before we begin, we wish to know who’s for us in the venture. For who is not for us—”
“Is against you?” Francis shook his head. “Far from it. For who is not instantly for you may have obligations of his own to consider. It does not follow that he may not wish you well.” Francis turned an eye on Ross. “What is my cousin’s view of the matter?”
Tonkin said, “It was your cousin who first suggested it.”
Francis looked surprised. “Well, Ross, I had no idea. Nor should I ever have guessed, for as your own mine…”
Ross said nothing and his face showed nothing.
“There are disadvantages, we know,” said Tonkin, “but if it becomes a working reality we shall do away with many of the present anomalies. Look, sir, we cannot go on as we are today. Unless there is some change, in a year we shall all be gone. I say for my part, let us undertake this venture with all speed and courage. I would rather fail fighting than lying down and waiting for the end!”
“Well,” Francis said, adjusting the lace on his cuff, “I don’t doubt you’ll give the copper companies a run for their money. And I wish you all good fortune, for God knows we have had none of late. For my part I would prefer to consider the proposal further before making a move. But I wish you well, gentlemen, I wish you well. By the way, who is to take the initiative in your venture? There must be a leader, must there not? Is it to be you, Mr. Tonkin?”
Tonkin shook his head. “No, sir. I couldn’t do it. I’m not at all the right man. But we are all agreed who is the right man if he will undertake it, are we not, gentlemen?”