Sappers and Miners Part 3

"Yes, do," said Joe. "He's got a touch of fever this morning, and can't help himself; so now's your chance. But if you do go and worry him, you've got to have it out with me afterwards, and so I tell you."

"Oh, have I? You want me to give you another good licking?"

"I don't care if you do. I won't stand still and have my father bullied by old Ydoll, Gwyn."

Gwyn turned upon him fiercely, but the sight of his companion's face calmed his anger on the instant.

"It's all right, Joe," he said; "I like to hear anyone sticking up for his father or his mother."

"I haven't got a mother to stick up for; but my father's ill and weak, and if you--"

"Don't I keep on telling you I'm not going, you stupid old Jolly-wet-'un. Come on. Didn't we two say, after the last fight, when we shook hands, that we would never fight again?"

"Yes; then why do you begin it?"

"Who's beginning it? Get out, and let's go and have a look at the mine.

Let's stick to what we said: fight any of the fisher-lads, and help one another. Now, then, let's go on to the old mine, and see if we can get down. Pst! here's Hardock."

For at the corner of the stone-walled lane, whose left side skirted the Colonel's property, which extended for half-a-mile along by the sea, the estate having been bought a bargain for the simple reason that its many acres grew scarcely anything but furze, heather and rag-wort, the rest being bare, storm-weathered granite, they came suddenly upon a dry-looking brown-faced man with a coil of rope worn across his chest like an Alpine guide.

He was seated on the low wall dotted with pink stone-crop and golden and grey lichens, chewing something, the brown stain at the corner of his lips suggesting that the something was tobacco; and he turned his head slowly toward them, and spoke in a harsh grating voice, as they came up.

"Going to the old mine?" he said. "I thought you would, after what I told you this morning. I'll go with you."

"Did you bring that rope on purpose?" said Gwyn, quickly.

"O' course, my son. You couldn't look at the gashly place without."

Gwyn glanced at Joe, and the latter laughed, while the mining captain displayed his brown teeth.

"Right, aren't it?" he said. "Didn't tell the Colonel what I said, I s'pose?"

"Yes, I did," cried Gwyn; "and he as good as said it was all nonsense."

"Maybe it be, and maybe it ban't," said the man, quietly. "You two come along with me and have a look. I've brought a hammer with me, too; and I say, let's chip off a bit or two of the stuff, and see what it's like.

If it's good, your father may like to work it. If it's poor, we sha'n't be no worse off than we was before, shall we?"

"No, of course not," said Gwyn, "what do you say, Joe--shall we go?"

"Of course," was the reply; and they trudged on together for about a hundred yards, and then climbed over the loose stone-wall, and then up a rugged slope dotted with gigantic fragments of granite. A stone's throw or so on their left was the edge of the uneven cliff, which went down sheer to the sea; and all about them the great ma.s.ses towered up, and their path lay anywhere in and out among tall rocks wreathed with bramble and made difficult with gorse.

But they were used to such scrambles, and, the mining captain leading, they struggled on with the gulls floating overhead, starting a cormorant from his perch, and sending a couple of red-legged choughs das.h.i.+ng over the rough edge to seek refuge among the rocks on the face of the cliff.

It was a glorious morning, the sea of a rich bright blue, and here and there silvery patches told where some shoal of fish was playing at the surface or demolis.h.i.+ng fry.

There was not a house to be seen, and the place was wild and chaotic in the extreme, but no one alluded to its ruggedness, all being intent upon the object of their quest, which they soon after came upon in the upper part of a deep gully, on one side of which there was a rough quadrangular wall of piled-up stones, looking like the foundations of a hut which had fallen to ruin; and here they paused.

"Now, look here," said the man; "that place don't look anything; but your father, young Pendarve, has got a fortune in it, and I want to see what it's like. So what do you say to going down with my hammer and bringing up a few chips?"

"Why don't you go?" said Gwyn.

"'Cause you two couldn't pull me up again. It's a job for a boy."

"Then let's send down Joe Jollivet. He isn't worth much if we lose him."

"Oh, I say," began the boy in dismay; but he read the twinkle in his companion's eye, and laughed.

"I wouldn't mind going down. Is the rope strong?"

"Strong?" said the mining captain. "Think I should have brought it if it warn't? Hold a schooner."

"Shall I go down, Gwyn?"

The lad addressed did not answer for a few moments, but stood leaning over the rocky wall, gazing down into a square pit cut through the stone, the wall having been placed there for protection in case four or two-legged creatures pa.s.sed that way.

"But look here," said Joe; "would it be safe?"

"Safe, lad? Do you think I'd let you go if it warn't? How could I face all your fathers and mothers after?"

"But are you sure you could hold me if I went," said Joe, who began to look anxious.

"Feel here," said the man, rolling up his sleeves. "There's muscle!

There's bone! That's something like a man's arm, aren't it? Hold you?

Half-a-dozen on you. Man either."

Joe drew a deep sigh.

"I'll go," he said.

"No, you won't," cried Gwyn, fiercely. "It's my father's place, and I ought to go."

"But I wouldn't mind, Ydoll," said Joe, excitedly.

"I know that, but I'll go first, and you help Sam Hardock."

"Ay, you help me, my lad. I know'd he'd have the pluck to go down."

"You're sure of the rope, Sam?"

"Sure? There, don't you go down if you're afraid."

"Who feels afraid?" cried Gwyn, hotly. "There, how's it to be? Throw the rope down and slide?"

"No, no," growled the man.

"Loop and sit in it?"

"Nay; I'm too fearful over you, my lad. But do you mean it?"