Tales and Novels, vol 2 | Page 2

The name of William Jervas
was scarcely remembered by any, except two or three of the oldest

miners, when, twenty years afterward, there came a party of gentlemen
and ladies to see the mines! and, as the guide was showing the
curiosities of the place, one among the company, a gentleman of about
six-and-thirty years of age, pointed to some letters that were carved on
the rock, and asked, "Whose name was written there?" "Only the name
of one William Jervas," answered the guide; "a poor lad, who ran away
from the mines a great long while ago." "Are you sure that he ran
away?" said the gentleman. "Yes," answered the guide, "sure and
certain I am of that." "Not at all sure and certain of any such thing,"
cried one of the oldest of the miners, who interrupted the guide, and
then related all that he knew, all that he had heard, and all that he
imagined and believed concerning the sudden disappearance of Jervas;
concluding by positively assuring the stranger that the ghost of the said
Jervas was often seen to walk, slowly, in the long west gallery of the
mine, with a blue taper in his hand.--"I will take my Bible oath," added
the man, "that about a month after he was missing, I saw the ghost just
as the clock struck twelve, walking slowly, with the light in one hand,
and a chain dragging after him in t'other; and he was coming straight
towards me, and I ran away into the stables to the horses; and from that
time forth I've taken special good care never to go late in the evening to
that there gallery, or near it: for I never was so frightened, above or
under ground, in all my born days."
The stranger, upon hearing this story, burst into a loud fit of laughter;
and, on recovering himself, he desired the ghost-seer to look stedfastly
in his face, and to tell whether he bore any resemblance to the ghost
that walked with the blue taper in the west gallery. The miner stared for
some minutes, and answered, "No; he that walks in the gallery is clear
another guess sort of a person; in a white jacket, a leather apron, and
ragged cap, like what Jervas used to wear in his lifetime; and, moreover,
he limps in his gait, as Lame Jervas always did, I remember well." The
gentleman walked on, and the miners observed, what had before
escaped their notice, that he limped a little; and, when he came again to
the light, the guide, after considering him very attentively, said, "If I
was not afraid of affronting the like of a gentleman such as your honour,
I should make bold for to say that you be very much--only a deal darker
complexioned--you be very much of the same sort of person as our

Lame Jervas used for to be." "Not at all like our Lame Jervas," cried the
old miner, who professed to have seen the ghost; "no more like to him
than _Black Jack to Blue John._" The by-standers laughed at this
comparison; and the guide, provoked at being laughed at, sturdily
maintained that not a man that wore a head in Cornwall should laugh
him out of his senses. Each party now growing violent in support of his
opinion, from words they were just coming to blows, when the stranger
at once put an end to the dispute, by declaring that he was the very man.
"Jervas!" exclaimed they all at once, "Jervas alive!--our Lame Jervas
turned gentleman!"
The miners could scarcely believe their eyes, or their ears, especially
when, upon following him out of the mine, they saw him get into a
handsome coach, and drive toward the mansion of one of the principal
gentlemen of the neighbourhood, who was a proprietor of the mine.
The next day, all the head miners were invited to dine in tents, pitched
in a field near this gentleman's house. It was fine weather, and harvest
time; the guests assembled, and in the tents found abundance of good
cheer provided for them.
After dinner, Mr. R----, the master of the house, appeared, accompanied
by Lame Jervas, dressed in his miner's old jacket and cap. Even the
ghost-seer acknowledged that he now looked wonderful like himself.
Mr. R----, the master of the house, filled a glass, and drank--"Welcome
home to our friend, Mr. Jervas; and may good faith always meet with
good fortune." The toast went round, each drank, and repeated,
"Welcome home to our friend Mr. Jervas; and may good faith always
meet good fortune." Indeed, what was meant by the good faith, or the
good fortune, none could guess; and many in whispers, and some aloud,
made bold to ask for an explanation of