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He would think of Mother Trigedgo and her glowing prophecies, which had turned out so wonderfully up to a certain point and then had as suddenly gone wrong; and then he would think of the beautiful artist with whom he was fated to fall in love, and how, even there, his destiny had worked against him and led him to sacrifice her love.
"We were all badly scared, because that ground was always moving, and finally we agreed that we'd take a full hour off and work till five o'clock. Well, we waited till after one before we went to the collar and just as I was stepping into the cage the whole danged stope caved in!" "Well, sir, I went back to my room and got every dollar I had and gave Mother Trigedgo the roll.
Those people are all fakes because they're just out for the dollar and tell you what they think you want to know. But Mother Trigedgo keeps a Cousin-Jack boarding house and only prophesies when she feels the power. Sometimes she'll go along for a week or more and never tell a fortune; and then, when she happens to be feeling right, she'll tell some feller what's coming to him.
Just go ahead, the best you know how, and play your cards to win, and I'll bet it won't be but a year or two until you're a regular operatic star. They'll be selling your records for three dollars apiece, and all those managers will be bidding for you; but if Mother Trigedgo should tell you some bad news it might hurt you it might spoil your nerve."
But while we were eating, there was a Cousin Jack named Chambers fetched up this old talk about Mother Trigedgo, and how she'd predicted he'd be killed in a cave if he didn't quit working in the stope; and when our half-hour's nooning was up he says: 'I'll not go down that shaft!
"No, but listen," she smiled, "that was just a legend, and the Greeks made it into a play. It was just like the German stories of Thor and the Norse gods that Wagner used in his operas. They're wonderful, and all that, but folks don't take them seriously. They're just why, they're fairy tales." "Well, all right," grumbled Denver, "I expect you think I am crazy, but what about Mother Trigedgo?
But neither wily Bunker Hill nor the palavering Professor should pull him this way or that; for Mother Trigedgo had given him a book, to consult on all important occasions.
Every little thing was coming as the seeress had predicted good Old Mother Trigedgo with her cards and astrology and all that was necessary was to follow her advice and the beautiful Drusilla would be his. He must treat her at first like any young country girl, as if she had no beauty or charm; and then in some way, unrevealed as yet, he would win her love in return.
"He will not!" cried Denver grabbing up a heavy stone and advancing on the barricade, "I'm destined to be killed by my dearest friend that's what old Mother Trigedgo told me! But this bastard ain't my friend and never was " He paused, for Chatwourth's gun came down and pointed straight at his heart. "Stand back!" he shrilled and Denver leapt forward, hurling the rock with all his strength.
Of all the admonitions which had been laid upon him by the words of the Cornish seeress, none seemed more onerous than this about the woman that he would love. "You will fall in love with a beautiful woman who is an artist," Mother Trigedgo had written, "but beware how you reveal your affection or she will confer her hand upon another." On another!
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