Chapter Sixteen.

Chapter Sixteen.Arthur Temple catches his Largest Fish—An odd one—And even then is not at rest.Mr Temple took a small flat lantern from his pocket, struck a match inside, and lit the lamp, which burned with a clear, bright flame.“Is the shaft belonging to this open at the top?” he said to Will.“Yes, sir—quite.”“Ah! then there’s no foul air. Now, Arthur, come along and you shall see what a mine adit is like.”“I—er—I’d rather not come this time, papa,” said Arthur in a rather off-hand way; “the knees of my trousers are so wet.”“Oh! are they?” said Mr Temple quietly. “You will come, I suppose, Dick?”“Yes, father. May I carry the lamp?”“Yes; and go first. Slowly, now. Rather hard to get through;” and after a little squeezing the whole party, save Arthur, crept into the low gallery, the light showing the roof and sides to be covered with wet moss of a glittering metallic green.There was not much to reward the seekers,—nothing but this narrow passage leading to a black square pool of water, upon which the light of the lamp played, and seemed to be battling with a patch of reflected daylight, the image of the square opening, a hundred and fifty feet above.“Hah!” said Mr Temple after a few minutes’ inspection of the adit and the shaft, whose walls, as far as he could reach, he chipped with a sharp-pointed little hammer formed almost like a wedge of steel. “A good hundred years since this was worked, if ever it got beyond the search. Copper decidedly.”“And you think it is very rich?” said Will excitedly, for he had been watching Mr Temple with the greatest eagerness.“Rich! No, my lad. What, have you got the Cornish complaint?”“Cornish complaint, sir?” said Will wonderingly.“The longing to search for mineral treasures?”“Yes, sir,” said Will bluntly after a few moments’ pause.“Then you need not waste time here, my lad.”“But there’s copper here. I proved it; and now you say there is.”“Yes; tons of it,” said Mr Temple.“There, Josh!” cried Will triumphantly.“But,” continued Mr Temple as they all stood there half-crouching in the narrow adit, “it is in quantities and in a bed that would be hard to work, and every hundredweight you got out and smelted would have cost more in wages than you could obtain when you sold your copper.”“There, lad, what did I gashly say?” cried Josh eagerly. “Didn’t I say as the true mining was for silver in the sea—ketching fish with boats and nets.”“No, you did not,” cried Will hotly; “and you meant nothing of the kind in what you did say.”“Ah! there’s nought like the sea for making a living,” said Josh in an ill-used tone. “I wouldn’t work in one of these gashly places on no account; not for two pound a week, I wouldn’t.”“Well, let’s get out in the open air at all events, now,” said Mr Temple. “I should like to see the mouth of the shaft.”“I’ll show you, sir,” said Will eagerly; and Mr Temple watched him closely as they stood once more out in the bright sunshine, and, lithe and strong, he began to climb up the rocks, Dick following him almost as quickly, but without his cleverness in making his way from block to block.Mr Temple followed, then Josh, lastly Arthur, who got on very badly, but indignantly refused Josh’s rough tarry hand when he good-naturedly offered to help him up the rough cliff.“Here’s where Josh and I went down,” said Will, as they all stood at the shaft mouth.“And did you go down there, my lad?”“Yes, sir.”“Swinging on a rope?”“Yes, sir.”“Then you’ve a good nerve, my lad. It wants a cool head to do that.”Will winced and glanced at Josh, who wrinkled up his forehead in a curious way.“A tremendous nerve,” continued Mr Temple. “You wouldn’t care to go down, Dick?”“No, father; but I’d go if you told me, and the rope was safe.”“That’s right,” said Mr Temple, smiling; “but, as I said before, it would require tremendous nerve—like that of our friend here.”Will looked from one to the other uneasily, and turned his cap first to right, and then to left. Suddenly he drew a long breath.“I felt when I got out of the shaft, sir, as if I never dared try to do it again,” he said hastily.“Indeed!”“Yes, sir; I wasn’t at all brave over it.”“Steady, my lad—steady!” said Josh in a reproving tone. “I think you did well. P’raps the gentleman would like to go now to Blee Vor.”“Yes, I should,” said Mr Temple, “so let’s go at once. There is nothing to be done here.”Josh led the way down the cliff—rather a dangerous road, but one which seemed easy enough to him, while Arthur shuddered and stopped two or three times on the way down, as if the descent made him giddy. He was always well enough, though, to resent any offer of assistance, even into the boat when it was hauled close up to the rock. Josh would have lifted him in; Will was ready to lay a back for him and porter him in like a sack; but the sensitive London boy looked upon these offers of aid as insulting; and the consequence was that he got on board with one of his shoes full of water, and a very small piece of skin taken off his shin.“Shall we row you on to Blee Vor,” said Josh.Mr Temple nodded in a short business-like way, and taking out his glass, he began to examine the rock as they went along.All of a sudden, though, he turned to Dick.“Go and take that oar,” he said sharply; and then to Will—“Come here, my lad.”Will coloured a little as he gave up his oar to Dick, who began rowing with a great deal of vigour and a great deal of splash, but with little effect upon the progress of the boat.“And so you are spending your spare time hunting for metals, are you, my lad?” said Mr Temple, gazing sharply at Will.“Yes, sir.”“Why?”Will hesitated for a moment and then said frankly:“I want to get on, sir, and make myself independent.”“Capital idea!” said Mr Temple; “but what knowledge have you on the subject? Have you studied mineralogy?”“Not from books, sir. Only what the miners about here could teach me.”“But you know a little about these things?”“Very little, sir; but I’m trying to learn more.”“Ah! that’s what we are all trying to do,” said Mr Temple quickly. “That will do. Perhaps we shall see a little more of each other.”He took up his glass once more; and feeling himself to be dismissed, Will went back to his seat, and would have taken the oar, but Dick wanted to learn how to row, and would not give it up.“Go and help my brother catch another bass,” he said; so rather unwillingly the lad went to where Arthur was diligently dragging the whiffing-line through the water.“Don’t you get any bites, sir?” said Will.“No. I don’t think there are many fish hero now,” said Arthur haughtily.“But there are a few,” said Will smiling. “Did you put on a good bait?”“Good bait!” said Arthur, looking at his questioner in a half-offended tone.“Yes, you must have a good lask on your hook, or the fish will not rise at it.”“Why, I’ve got the same hook on that my brother used when he caught that fish.”“Let me look,” said Will quietly.Arthur frowned, and would have declined, but Will did not wait for permission, and drew in the line till he came to the lead, lifted it carefully inboard, and then hauled up the hook.“You might have kept on trying all day,” said Will. “There’s no bait.”“Oh, indeed! then some fish must have bitten it off,” said Arthur in the most nonchalant way. “I thought I felt a tug.”Will had his back turned to the fisherman, so that he could smile unobserved, for he knew that there had been no bait left on the hook, and that Arthur would not have soiled his fingers to put one on.“There,” he said as he hooked on a good bright lask; “now try.”He threw the bait over and then dropped in the lead, when the bait seemed to dart away astern, drawing out the line; but to Arthur’s surprise Will checked it instantly, caught the line from the gunwale and handed it to him, Will’s quick eyes having detected the dash of a fish at the flying bait.“Why, there’s one on!” cried Arthur excitedly.“Small pollack,” said Will smiling. “Haul him in.”Arthur forgot all about the wetness of the line this time, and soon drew one of the brightly coloured fish inboard and called to his brother.“Here, look!” he cried, “you never saw anything so beautiful as this.”“Just like mine,” cried Dick, “only it was ten times as big.”“Oh!” said Arthur in a disappointed tone. Then, in a whisper to Will, “I say, boy, put on a big bait this time. I want to catch a large one.”Will felt amused at the other’s dictatorial importance, but he said nothing: placing a bait on the hook, and the line was once more trailed behind, but this time without success, and at the end of a few minutes the boat was guided into a narrow passage amongst the rocks, below a high forbidding headland where the long slimy sea-weed that clung to the granite was washing to and fro, as the waves rushed foaming in and out among the huge blocks of stone, some of which were every now and then invisible, and then seemed to rise out of the sea like the backs of huge shaggy sea-monsters playing in the nook.Josh had taken the oar from Dick, and had now assumed the sole guidance of the boat, rowing slowly with his head turned towards the shore, and once or twice there was a scraping, bumping noise and a jerk or two, which made Arthur seize hold of the side.“Is it safe to go in here?” said Mr Temple.“Oh! you may trust Josh, sir,” exclaimed Will. “It wouldn’t be safe at high water, but there’s no danger now.”“Not of getting a hole through the boat?”“Boomp—craunch!”Arthur turned quite white, while Dick laughed.“That’s only her iron keel, sir,” said Will, for Josh was too intent upon his work to turn his head for answer. “The wave dropped us on that rock, and we slid off, you see, on the keel. Now we’re in deep water again.”The action of the waves close inshore on that rugged coast, even in that calm weather, was sufficient to raise them up three or four feet and then let them down, while the water was so clear that they could see the weeds waving and streaming here and there over the tinted rock, patches of which, where they were washed bare, were of the most brilliant crimsons, purples, and greens.Josh was guiding the boat in and out along a most intricate channel, now almost doubling back, but always the next minute getting nearer to a beautiful white patch of strand, beyond which was a dark forbidding clump of rocks piled-up in picturesque confusion, and above which the gaunt cliff ran up perpendicularly in places till it was at least three hundred feet above their heads, and everywhere seeming to be built up in great blocks like rugged ashlar work, the joints fitting closely, but all plainly marked and worn by the weather.“Sit fast all!” said Josh; “here’s a wave coming!”He gave one oar a sharp tug to set the boat’s head a little farther round, and Arthur sprang up and with a sort of bound leaped to his father’s side, clinging to him tightly, as a loud rushing, hissing sound rose from behind, and a good-sized wave came foaming in and out among the great blocks of stone, as if bent on leaping into and swamping the boat; but instead of this, as it reached them it lifted the boat, bore it forward, bumping and scraping two or three rocks below the keel, and then letting it glide over the surface of a good-sized rock-pool, swirling and dancing with the newly coming water.Josh then rowed steadily on for a few strokes, pausing by some glistening rocks that, after lying dry for a few hours, were being covered again by the title.“Your young gents like to look at the dollygobs, master?” said Josh.“Look at the what!” exclaimed Mr Temple.“Them there gashly things,” said Josh, pointing to a number of round patches of what seemed to be deep-red jelly, with here and there one of an olive green.“Sea-anemones, boys,” said Mr Temple. Then to Josh, “No, they must hunt them out another time; I want to land. I suppose we can climb up to that shelf?”He pointed to a flat place about a hundred feet above them.“Dessay we can, if it arn’t too gashly orkard,” growled Josh. “If she be, we’ll bring the rope another time and let you down. Sit fast again!”For another wave came rushing in, seeming to gather force as it ran, while Josh so cleverly managed the boat that he made it ride on the surface of the wave right over a low ridge of rocks, and then rowed close in and ran her head upon what looked to be coarse sand. Then in went the oars, Josh and Will leaped out, waited a few moments, and then, another smaller wave helping them, they drew the boat higher, so that she was left half dry, and her passengers were able to step out on the dry patch beneath the rocks.“Why, it isn’t sand, but little broken shells,” cried Dick excitedly, as Mr Temple casually picked up a handful to examine.“Yes, Dick, broken shells, and not siliceous,” said Mr Temple.“What are those red and green rocks, father?” asked Dick.“Serpentine; and that white vein running through is soapstone. Ah! now we shall get to know a little about what is inside.”“But why have we come here?” asked Arthur.“Because there has been a working here. Some one must have dug down and thrown out all that mass of broken rock. Part has been washed away; but all this, you see, though worn and rounded by the waves washing it about, has been dug out of the rock.”He had walked to a long slope of wave-worn fragments of rock as he spoke, forming a steep ascent that ran up into a rift in the great cliff; and he drew Dick’s attention to the fact that what seemed like a level place a hundred feet above was so situated that anything thrown down would have fallen in the niche or combe of the cliff just beyond them.“Now, my fine fellow,” said Mr Temple, as he picked up a piece of wave-polished stone, “what’s that?”“Serpentine,” said Will quietly.“And this?” said Mr Temple.“Granite, sir.”“Eight; and this?”“Gneiss,” replied Will.“Quite correct. Now this,” he continued, breaking a piece of stone in two with his hammer.“Cop—no, only mundic,” cried Will, who had nearly been caught tripping.“Right again. Now this?”He picked up a reddish piece of stone which, when broken, showed bright clear crystals, and close to the ruddy stone a number of little black grains.“Tin,” cried Will eagerly; “and a rich piece.”“Let me look at the tin,” cried Arthur eagerly; and the piece being handed to him, “where?” he cried; “there’s no tin here.”“Tin ore, my boy,” said Mr Temple quietly. “Those black grains are rich tin.”“Well, I shouldn’t have thought that,” said Arthur; “and I should have thought that was gold or brass.”“Then you would have thought wrong,” said Mr Temple sharply. “All is not gold that glitters, my boy; and you can’t find brass in the earth. What can you find, my lad?” he continued, turning sharply to Will.“Copper, sir, and tin and zinc.”“Then what is brass?” said Mr Temple.“Copper and zinc mixed.”“Not copper and tin?”“Copper and tin, sir, make fine bronze, same as the ancient people used to hammer for swords and spears; but I can’t understand, sir, why two soft metals like copper and tin should make a hard one when they are mixed.”“And I cannot explain it to you,” said Mr Temple smiling.“Are we going to stop here long?” said Arthur impatiently.“Oh? don’t go yet,” cried Dick, laughing; “I want to hear Will say his miner’s catechism.”“Oh! very well,” said Mr Temple, smiling. “What is mundic, then, my lad?”“A mussy me! as if every lad here didn’t know what mundic was!” cried Josh to himself; but he spoke loud enough for the others to hear.“Well, what is mundic, then?” said Mr Temple quickly to Josh.“What’s mundic?” growled Josh, picking up a yellow metallic-looking piece of rock; “why, that is, and that is, and that is. There’s tons of it everywhere.”“To be sure there is, my man; but what is it?” said Mr Temple.“Well, ain’t I showing of you!” growled Josh. “This here’s mundic.”“The gentleman means what is it made of?” whispered Will, and then he added two or three words.“Why, how should I know? Made of! ’Tain’t made of anything, nor more ar’n’t tin. I suppose it grows.”“Do you know?” said Mr Temple.“I think so, sir,” said Will modestly; “sulphur and iron.”“Let’s go on now,” said Arthur; “I want to fish.”“Stop and learn something, my boy,” said Mr Temple sternly.“Oh! go on, please,” cried Dick, who was delighted to find so much knowledge in his new friend.“What is this, then?” said Mr Temple, picking up a whitish metallic-looking piece of mineral.“I don’t know exactly, sir,” said Will eagerly; “but I think it is partly antimony and partly silver.”“Quite right again, my lad,” cried Mr Temple, clapping Will upon the shoulder of his fish-scaly blue jersey; “a great deal of antimony, and there is sulphur and iron too, I think, in this piece.”“This must have come out of the working above there,” cried Will eagerly.“Undoubtedly, my lad.”“I didn’t know that there had been a mine here,” said Will.“Or you would have had a look at it before now, eh?”“Yes, sir,” said Will, colouring.“We’ll go and have a look at it now,” said Mr Temple; “but I don’t think we shall find anything of much good.”“Here, papa, what’s this?” cried Arthur eagerly. “This must be gold.”“Copper,” cried Will. “Then there is copper here too!”“Yes, that is copper,” said Mr Temple, examining and re-fracturing a glistening piece of stone full of purple and gold reflections, with touches of blue and crimson. “Peacock ore some people call it. Now, let’s have a climb. Or stop, let’s have a look at that cave. I should not wonder if the adit is there.”“Beggin’ yer pardon, sir,” said Josh respectfully, “I don’t think as I’d go in there, if I was you.”“Why not?” said Mr Temple, as he stood just inside the rugged cavern, whose mouth was fringed with sea-ferns.“Well, you see, sir, they say gashly things about these here old zorns.”“What sort of things, Josh?” cried Dick. “Wild beasts in ’em?”“Well, no, Master Ditchard, sir,” said Josh, who was confused as to the proper way of using the names Dick and Richard; “not wild beasts here.”“You must go two miles farther,” said Will, “and we can show you the seal-caves.”“With seals in them?” cried Richard.“Oh, yes, plenty,” said Will. “Josh thinks there is something unpleasant lives in these zorns.”“No, not exactly lives,” said Josh, hesitating; “and don’t you get making game of ’em, young fellow,” he added, turning to Will. “Them as is a deal older than us wouldn’t go in ’em to save their lives.”“Why, what is there in the cave, my man?” said Mr Temple.“Oh! I shouldn’t like to say, sir,” said Josh, gazing furtively into the darksome hole in the rock.“But you are not afraid?”“Afraid, sir! Oh, no, I’m not afraid; but I don’t think it’s right to go in and disturb what’s there.”“Ah, well, Dick, we’ll go,” said Mr Temple; “and we must apologise if the occupants object.”“I wouldn’t go, really, sir,” protested Josh.“You can stay behind, my man,” said Mr Temple.“Then don’t take Master Dick, sir. You see he’s so young.”“My son can stay outside if he likes,” said Mr Temple in a tone of voice that made Dick tighten himself up and fasten the lower, button of his jacket.“There,” said Mr Temple as he closed his lanthorn and held it up; “now we shall see.”He stepped in over the shelly sand which filled up the vacancies between the rocks that strewed the floor, and Dick stepped in after him.Will turned and looked half-mockingly at Josh as he stepped in next.“Oh! well, I can’t stand that,” growled Josh. “Here goes.”He moistened both of his hands as if he were going to get a grip of some rope or spar, and then hurried in, leaving Arthur alone at the mouth of the zorn, peering in at the dancing light and the strange shadows cast upon the glistening stone of roof and wall.“Shall I go in?” he said to himself. “I know Dick will laugh at me if I don’t.”Then he hesitated: the place looked so dark and cold and forbidding, while without it was so light and bright and sunshiny.“I sha’n’t go,” he muttered. “Let him laugh if he likes, and that Cornish fisher-boy as well. I don’t see why I should go into the nasty old cellar.”Then he peered in, and thought that he would like to go in just a little way; and stretching out one leg he was about to set his foot down when there was a black shadow cast at his feet, a rushing noise, and something came quite close, uttered a harsh cry, and dashed off.Arthur Temple bounded back into the broad sunshine with his heart beating painfully; and even when he saw that it was one of the great black fishing-birds that had dipped down and dashed off again he was not much better.“I wish I were not so nervous!” he muttered; and he looked about hastily.“I’m glad no one was here, though,” he added. “How Dick would have laughed! Now I’ll follow them in. No, I won’t. I’ll say I wanted to fish;” and snatching at this idea he ran down to the boat, got in, and arranging the line, gave the lead a swing and threw it seaward, so that it should fall in the deep channel among the rocks, where there was not the slightest likelihood of his getting a fish.But it requires some skill to throw out lead attached to a fishing-line, especially when there are ten or twelve feet of line between the lead and the hook.Hence it was then that when Arthur Temple swung the lead to and fro, and finally let it go seaward, there was a sharp tug and a splash, the lead falling into the water about a couple of yards from the stern, and the hook sticking tightly in the gunwale of the boat.“Bother!” exclaimed Arthur angrily as he proceeded to haul the lead in, and then to extricate the hook, whose bait wanted rearranging, while the hook itself was a good deal opened out in drawing it from the wood.He got all right at last, screwing up his face a good deal at having to replace the bait, and then stopping to wash his hands very carefully and wipe them upon his pocket-handkerchief. This done, he smelt his fingers.“Pah!” he ejaculated; and he proceeded to wash and wipe them again before rearranging the line; and then after swinging the lead to and fro four or five times, he let it go, giving it a tremendous jerk, which recoiled so upon his frame, and caused the boat to swerve so much, that he nearly fell overboard, and only saved himself by throwing himself down and catching at the thwarts.“Bother the beastly, abominable old boat!” he cried angrily as he scrambled up, and with all the pettishness of a spoiled child, kicked the side with all his might, a satisfactory proceeding which resulted in the wood giving forth a hollow sound, and a painful sensation arising from an injured toe.He felt a little better, though, after getting rid of this touch of spite, and he smiled with satisfaction, too, for the lead had descended some distance off in the water, and with a self-complacent smile Arthur Temple sat down on the edge of the boat and waited for a bite.“This is better than getting wet and dirty in that cavern,” he said. “It’s warm and sunshiny, and old Dick will be as savage as savage if he finds that I’ve caught three or four good fish before he comes. Was that a touch?”It did not seem to be, so Arthur sat patiently on waiting for the bite, and sometimes looking over the side, where, in the clear water, half-hidden by a shelf of rock, he could see what at first made him start, for it looked like an enormous flat spider lying about three feet down, watching him with a couple of eyes like small peas, mounted, mushroom-fashion, on a stalk.“Why, it’s an old crab,” he said; “only a small one, though. Ugh! what a disgusting-looking beast!”He remained watching the crab for some few minutes, and then looked straight along the line, which washed up and down on a piece of rock as the waves came softly in, bearing that peculiar sea-weedy scent from the shore. Then he had another look at the crab, and could distinctly see its peculiar water-breathing apparatus at work, playing like some piece of mechanism about its mouth, while sometimes one claw would be raised a little way, then another, as if the mollusc were sparring at Arthur, and asking him to come on.“Ugh! the ridiculous-looking little monster!” he muttered. “I wonder how long they’ll be! What a while it is before I get a bite!”But he did not get a bite all the same. For, in the first place, there were none but very small fish in and about the rocks—little wrasse, and blennies wherever the bottom was sandy, and tiny crabs scuffling in and out among the stones, where jelly-fish were opening and shutting and expanding their tentacles in search of minute food.In the second place, Arthur sat on fishing, happily unconscious of the fact that he was in a similar position to the short-sighted old man in the caricature. This individual is by a river side comfortably seated beneath a tree, his rod horizontally held above the water, but his line and float, where he has jerked them, four or five feet above his head in an overhanging bough.There were no overhanging boughs near Arthur, and no trees; but when he threw in his line the lead had gone into a rock-pool, the hook had stopped in a patch of sea-weed on a rock high and dry, and the bait of squid was being nicely cooked and frizzled in the sun.“I think it wants a new bait,” said our fisherman at last very importantly; and, drawing in the line, the lead came with a bump up against the side of the boat, while the bait was dragged through the water, and came in thoroughly wet once more.“I thought so,” said Arthur complacently as he examined the shrunken bait. “Something has been at it and sucked all the goodness away. I wish that fisher-boy was here to put on a fresh one.”But that fisher-boy was right in the cavern, so Arthur had to put on a fresh bait himself. This done, and very badly too, he took the line in hand once more, stood up on the thwart, spreading his legs wide apart to steady himself, because the boat rocked; and then, after giving the heavy lead a good swing, sent it off with a thrill of triumph, which rapidly changed to a look of horror, accompanied by a yell of pain.“Oh! oh! oh! oh!” cried Arthur. “My leg! my leg! my leg! Oh! help! help! help!” and sitting down in the boat he began to drag in the line rapidly, as he thoroughly realised the fact that he had caught a very large and a very odd fish this time.Note: Zorn, the Cornish name for a sea-cave.

Mr Temple took a small flat lantern from his pocket, struck a match inside, and lit the lamp, which burned with a clear, bright flame.

“Is the shaft belonging to this open at the top?” he said to Will.

“Yes, sir—quite.”

“Ah! then there’s no foul air. Now, Arthur, come along and you shall see what a mine adit is like.”

“I—er—I’d rather not come this time, papa,” said Arthur in a rather off-hand way; “the knees of my trousers are so wet.”

“Oh! are they?” said Mr Temple quietly. “You will come, I suppose, Dick?”

“Yes, father. May I carry the lamp?”

“Yes; and go first. Slowly, now. Rather hard to get through;” and after a little squeezing the whole party, save Arthur, crept into the low gallery, the light showing the roof and sides to be covered with wet moss of a glittering metallic green.

There was not much to reward the seekers,—nothing but this narrow passage leading to a black square pool of water, upon which the light of the lamp played, and seemed to be battling with a patch of reflected daylight, the image of the square opening, a hundred and fifty feet above.

“Hah!” said Mr Temple after a few minutes’ inspection of the adit and the shaft, whose walls, as far as he could reach, he chipped with a sharp-pointed little hammer formed almost like a wedge of steel. “A good hundred years since this was worked, if ever it got beyond the search. Copper decidedly.”

“And you think it is very rich?” said Will excitedly, for he had been watching Mr Temple with the greatest eagerness.

“Rich! No, my lad. What, have you got the Cornish complaint?”

“Cornish complaint, sir?” said Will wonderingly.

“The longing to search for mineral treasures?”

“Yes, sir,” said Will bluntly after a few moments’ pause.

“Then you need not waste time here, my lad.”

“But there’s copper here. I proved it; and now you say there is.”

“Yes; tons of it,” said Mr Temple.

“There, Josh!” cried Will triumphantly.

“But,” continued Mr Temple as they all stood there half-crouching in the narrow adit, “it is in quantities and in a bed that would be hard to work, and every hundredweight you got out and smelted would have cost more in wages than you could obtain when you sold your copper.”

“There, lad, what did I gashly say?” cried Josh eagerly. “Didn’t I say as the true mining was for silver in the sea—ketching fish with boats and nets.”

“No, you did not,” cried Will hotly; “and you meant nothing of the kind in what you did say.”

“Ah! there’s nought like the sea for making a living,” said Josh in an ill-used tone. “I wouldn’t work in one of these gashly places on no account; not for two pound a week, I wouldn’t.”

“Well, let’s get out in the open air at all events, now,” said Mr Temple. “I should like to see the mouth of the shaft.”

“I’ll show you, sir,” said Will eagerly; and Mr Temple watched him closely as they stood once more out in the bright sunshine, and, lithe and strong, he began to climb up the rocks, Dick following him almost as quickly, but without his cleverness in making his way from block to block.

Mr Temple followed, then Josh, lastly Arthur, who got on very badly, but indignantly refused Josh’s rough tarry hand when he good-naturedly offered to help him up the rough cliff.

“Here’s where Josh and I went down,” said Will, as they all stood at the shaft mouth.

“And did you go down there, my lad?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Swinging on a rope?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Then you’ve a good nerve, my lad. It wants a cool head to do that.”

Will winced and glanced at Josh, who wrinkled up his forehead in a curious way.

“A tremendous nerve,” continued Mr Temple. “You wouldn’t care to go down, Dick?”

“No, father; but I’d go if you told me, and the rope was safe.”

“That’s right,” said Mr Temple, smiling; “but, as I said before, it would require tremendous nerve—like that of our friend here.”

Will looked from one to the other uneasily, and turned his cap first to right, and then to left. Suddenly he drew a long breath.

“I felt when I got out of the shaft, sir, as if I never dared try to do it again,” he said hastily.

“Indeed!”

“Yes, sir; I wasn’t at all brave over it.”

“Steady, my lad—steady!” said Josh in a reproving tone. “I think you did well. P’raps the gentleman would like to go now to Blee Vor.”

“Yes, I should,” said Mr Temple, “so let’s go at once. There is nothing to be done here.”

Josh led the way down the cliff—rather a dangerous road, but one which seemed easy enough to him, while Arthur shuddered and stopped two or three times on the way down, as if the descent made him giddy. He was always well enough, though, to resent any offer of assistance, even into the boat when it was hauled close up to the rock. Josh would have lifted him in; Will was ready to lay a back for him and porter him in like a sack; but the sensitive London boy looked upon these offers of aid as insulting; and the consequence was that he got on board with one of his shoes full of water, and a very small piece of skin taken off his shin.

“Shall we row you on to Blee Vor,” said Josh.

Mr Temple nodded in a short business-like way, and taking out his glass, he began to examine the rock as they went along.

All of a sudden, though, he turned to Dick.

“Go and take that oar,” he said sharply; and then to Will—“Come here, my lad.”

Will coloured a little as he gave up his oar to Dick, who began rowing with a great deal of vigour and a great deal of splash, but with little effect upon the progress of the boat.

“And so you are spending your spare time hunting for metals, are you, my lad?” said Mr Temple, gazing sharply at Will.

“Yes, sir.”

“Why?”

Will hesitated for a moment and then said frankly:

“I want to get on, sir, and make myself independent.”

“Capital idea!” said Mr Temple; “but what knowledge have you on the subject? Have you studied mineralogy?”

“Not from books, sir. Only what the miners about here could teach me.”

“But you know a little about these things?”

“Very little, sir; but I’m trying to learn more.”

“Ah! that’s what we are all trying to do,” said Mr Temple quickly. “That will do. Perhaps we shall see a little more of each other.”

He took up his glass once more; and feeling himself to be dismissed, Will went back to his seat, and would have taken the oar, but Dick wanted to learn how to row, and would not give it up.

“Go and help my brother catch another bass,” he said; so rather unwillingly the lad went to where Arthur was diligently dragging the whiffing-line through the water.

“Don’t you get any bites, sir?” said Will.

“No. I don’t think there are many fish hero now,” said Arthur haughtily.

“But there are a few,” said Will smiling. “Did you put on a good bait?”

“Good bait!” said Arthur, looking at his questioner in a half-offended tone.

“Yes, you must have a good lask on your hook, or the fish will not rise at it.”

“Why, I’ve got the same hook on that my brother used when he caught that fish.”

“Let me look,” said Will quietly.

Arthur frowned, and would have declined, but Will did not wait for permission, and drew in the line till he came to the lead, lifted it carefully inboard, and then hauled up the hook.

“You might have kept on trying all day,” said Will. “There’s no bait.”

“Oh, indeed! then some fish must have bitten it off,” said Arthur in the most nonchalant way. “I thought I felt a tug.”

Will had his back turned to the fisherman, so that he could smile unobserved, for he knew that there had been no bait left on the hook, and that Arthur would not have soiled his fingers to put one on.

“There,” he said as he hooked on a good bright lask; “now try.”

He threw the bait over and then dropped in the lead, when the bait seemed to dart away astern, drawing out the line; but to Arthur’s surprise Will checked it instantly, caught the line from the gunwale and handed it to him, Will’s quick eyes having detected the dash of a fish at the flying bait.

“Why, there’s one on!” cried Arthur excitedly.

“Small pollack,” said Will smiling. “Haul him in.”

Arthur forgot all about the wetness of the line this time, and soon drew one of the brightly coloured fish inboard and called to his brother.

“Here, look!” he cried, “you never saw anything so beautiful as this.”

“Just like mine,” cried Dick, “only it was ten times as big.”

“Oh!” said Arthur in a disappointed tone. Then, in a whisper to Will, “I say, boy, put on a big bait this time. I want to catch a large one.”

Will felt amused at the other’s dictatorial importance, but he said nothing: placing a bait on the hook, and the line was once more trailed behind, but this time without success, and at the end of a few minutes the boat was guided into a narrow passage amongst the rocks, below a high forbidding headland where the long slimy sea-weed that clung to the granite was washing to and fro, as the waves rushed foaming in and out among the huge blocks of stone, some of which were every now and then invisible, and then seemed to rise out of the sea like the backs of huge shaggy sea-monsters playing in the nook.

Josh had taken the oar from Dick, and had now assumed the sole guidance of the boat, rowing slowly with his head turned towards the shore, and once or twice there was a scraping, bumping noise and a jerk or two, which made Arthur seize hold of the side.

“Is it safe to go in here?” said Mr Temple.

“Oh! you may trust Josh, sir,” exclaimed Will. “It wouldn’t be safe at high water, but there’s no danger now.”

“Not of getting a hole through the boat?”

“Boomp—craunch!”

Arthur turned quite white, while Dick laughed.

“That’s only her iron keel, sir,” said Will, for Josh was too intent upon his work to turn his head for answer. “The wave dropped us on that rock, and we slid off, you see, on the keel. Now we’re in deep water again.”

The action of the waves close inshore on that rugged coast, even in that calm weather, was sufficient to raise them up three or four feet and then let them down, while the water was so clear that they could see the weeds waving and streaming here and there over the tinted rock, patches of which, where they were washed bare, were of the most brilliant crimsons, purples, and greens.

Josh was guiding the boat in and out along a most intricate channel, now almost doubling back, but always the next minute getting nearer to a beautiful white patch of strand, beyond which was a dark forbidding clump of rocks piled-up in picturesque confusion, and above which the gaunt cliff ran up perpendicularly in places till it was at least three hundred feet above their heads, and everywhere seeming to be built up in great blocks like rugged ashlar work, the joints fitting closely, but all plainly marked and worn by the weather.

“Sit fast all!” said Josh; “here’s a wave coming!”

He gave one oar a sharp tug to set the boat’s head a little farther round, and Arthur sprang up and with a sort of bound leaped to his father’s side, clinging to him tightly, as a loud rushing, hissing sound rose from behind, and a good-sized wave came foaming in and out among the great blocks of stone, as if bent on leaping into and swamping the boat; but instead of this, as it reached them it lifted the boat, bore it forward, bumping and scraping two or three rocks below the keel, and then letting it glide over the surface of a good-sized rock-pool, swirling and dancing with the newly coming water.

Josh then rowed steadily on for a few strokes, pausing by some glistening rocks that, after lying dry for a few hours, were being covered again by the title.

“Your young gents like to look at the dollygobs, master?” said Josh.

“Look at the what!” exclaimed Mr Temple.

“Them there gashly things,” said Josh, pointing to a number of round patches of what seemed to be deep-red jelly, with here and there one of an olive green.

“Sea-anemones, boys,” said Mr Temple. Then to Josh, “No, they must hunt them out another time; I want to land. I suppose we can climb up to that shelf?”

He pointed to a flat place about a hundred feet above them.

“Dessay we can, if it arn’t too gashly orkard,” growled Josh. “If she be, we’ll bring the rope another time and let you down. Sit fast again!”

For another wave came rushing in, seeming to gather force as it ran, while Josh so cleverly managed the boat that he made it ride on the surface of the wave right over a low ridge of rocks, and then rowed close in and ran her head upon what looked to be coarse sand. Then in went the oars, Josh and Will leaped out, waited a few moments, and then, another smaller wave helping them, they drew the boat higher, so that she was left half dry, and her passengers were able to step out on the dry patch beneath the rocks.

“Why, it isn’t sand, but little broken shells,” cried Dick excitedly, as Mr Temple casually picked up a handful to examine.

“Yes, Dick, broken shells, and not siliceous,” said Mr Temple.

“What are those red and green rocks, father?” asked Dick.

“Serpentine; and that white vein running through is soapstone. Ah! now we shall get to know a little about what is inside.”

“But why have we come here?” asked Arthur.

“Because there has been a working here. Some one must have dug down and thrown out all that mass of broken rock. Part has been washed away; but all this, you see, though worn and rounded by the waves washing it about, has been dug out of the rock.”

He had walked to a long slope of wave-worn fragments of rock as he spoke, forming a steep ascent that ran up into a rift in the great cliff; and he drew Dick’s attention to the fact that what seemed like a level place a hundred feet above was so situated that anything thrown down would have fallen in the niche or combe of the cliff just beyond them.

“Now, my fine fellow,” said Mr Temple, as he picked up a piece of wave-polished stone, “what’s that?”

“Serpentine,” said Will quietly.

“And this?” said Mr Temple.

“Granite, sir.”

“Eight; and this?”

“Gneiss,” replied Will.

“Quite correct. Now this,” he continued, breaking a piece of stone in two with his hammer.

“Cop—no, only mundic,” cried Will, who had nearly been caught tripping.

“Right again. Now this?”

He picked up a reddish piece of stone which, when broken, showed bright clear crystals, and close to the ruddy stone a number of little black grains.

“Tin,” cried Will eagerly; “and a rich piece.”

“Let me look at the tin,” cried Arthur eagerly; and the piece being handed to him, “where?” he cried; “there’s no tin here.”

“Tin ore, my boy,” said Mr Temple quietly. “Those black grains are rich tin.”

“Well, I shouldn’t have thought that,” said Arthur; “and I should have thought that was gold or brass.”

“Then you would have thought wrong,” said Mr Temple sharply. “All is not gold that glitters, my boy; and you can’t find brass in the earth. What can you find, my lad?” he continued, turning sharply to Will.

“Copper, sir, and tin and zinc.”

“Then what is brass?” said Mr Temple.

“Copper and zinc mixed.”

“Not copper and tin?”

“Copper and tin, sir, make fine bronze, same as the ancient people used to hammer for swords and spears; but I can’t understand, sir, why two soft metals like copper and tin should make a hard one when they are mixed.”

“And I cannot explain it to you,” said Mr Temple smiling.

“Are we going to stop here long?” said Arthur impatiently.

“Oh? don’t go yet,” cried Dick, laughing; “I want to hear Will say his miner’s catechism.”

“Oh! very well,” said Mr Temple, smiling. “What is mundic, then, my lad?”

“A mussy me! as if every lad here didn’t know what mundic was!” cried Josh to himself; but he spoke loud enough for the others to hear.

“Well, what is mundic, then?” said Mr Temple quickly to Josh.

“What’s mundic?” growled Josh, picking up a yellow metallic-looking piece of rock; “why, that is, and that is, and that is. There’s tons of it everywhere.”

“To be sure there is, my man; but what is it?” said Mr Temple.

“Well, ain’t I showing of you!” growled Josh. “This here’s mundic.”

“The gentleman means what is it made of?” whispered Will, and then he added two or three words.

“Why, how should I know? Made of! ’Tain’t made of anything, nor more ar’n’t tin. I suppose it grows.”

“Do you know?” said Mr Temple.

“I think so, sir,” said Will modestly; “sulphur and iron.”

“Let’s go on now,” said Arthur; “I want to fish.”

“Stop and learn something, my boy,” said Mr Temple sternly.

“Oh! go on, please,” cried Dick, who was delighted to find so much knowledge in his new friend.

“What is this, then?” said Mr Temple, picking up a whitish metallic-looking piece of mineral.

“I don’t know exactly, sir,” said Will eagerly; “but I think it is partly antimony and partly silver.”

“Quite right again, my lad,” cried Mr Temple, clapping Will upon the shoulder of his fish-scaly blue jersey; “a great deal of antimony, and there is sulphur and iron too, I think, in this piece.”

“This must have come out of the working above there,” cried Will eagerly.

“Undoubtedly, my lad.”

“I didn’t know that there had been a mine here,” said Will.

“Or you would have had a look at it before now, eh?”

“Yes, sir,” said Will, colouring.

“We’ll go and have a look at it now,” said Mr Temple; “but I don’t think we shall find anything of much good.”

“Here, papa, what’s this?” cried Arthur eagerly. “This must be gold.”

“Copper,” cried Will. “Then there is copper here too!”

“Yes, that is copper,” said Mr Temple, examining and re-fracturing a glistening piece of stone full of purple and gold reflections, with touches of blue and crimson. “Peacock ore some people call it. Now, let’s have a climb. Or stop, let’s have a look at that cave. I should not wonder if the adit is there.”

“Beggin’ yer pardon, sir,” said Josh respectfully, “I don’t think as I’d go in there, if I was you.”

“Why not?” said Mr Temple, as he stood just inside the rugged cavern, whose mouth was fringed with sea-ferns.

“Well, you see, sir, they say gashly things about these here old zorns.”

“What sort of things, Josh?” cried Dick. “Wild beasts in ’em?”

“Well, no, Master Ditchard, sir,” said Josh, who was confused as to the proper way of using the names Dick and Richard; “not wild beasts here.”

“You must go two miles farther,” said Will, “and we can show you the seal-caves.”

“With seals in them?” cried Richard.

“Oh, yes, plenty,” said Will. “Josh thinks there is something unpleasant lives in these zorns.”

“No, not exactly lives,” said Josh, hesitating; “and don’t you get making game of ’em, young fellow,” he added, turning to Will. “Them as is a deal older than us wouldn’t go in ’em to save their lives.”

“Why, what is there in the cave, my man?” said Mr Temple.

“Oh! I shouldn’t like to say, sir,” said Josh, gazing furtively into the darksome hole in the rock.

“But you are not afraid?”

“Afraid, sir! Oh, no, I’m not afraid; but I don’t think it’s right to go in and disturb what’s there.”

“Ah, well, Dick, we’ll go,” said Mr Temple; “and we must apologise if the occupants object.”

“I wouldn’t go, really, sir,” protested Josh.

“You can stay behind, my man,” said Mr Temple.

“Then don’t take Master Dick, sir. You see he’s so young.”

“My son can stay outside if he likes,” said Mr Temple in a tone of voice that made Dick tighten himself up and fasten the lower, button of his jacket.

“There,” said Mr Temple as he closed his lanthorn and held it up; “now we shall see.”

He stepped in over the shelly sand which filled up the vacancies between the rocks that strewed the floor, and Dick stepped in after him.

Will turned and looked half-mockingly at Josh as he stepped in next.

“Oh! well, I can’t stand that,” growled Josh. “Here goes.”

He moistened both of his hands as if he were going to get a grip of some rope or spar, and then hurried in, leaving Arthur alone at the mouth of the zorn, peering in at the dancing light and the strange shadows cast upon the glistening stone of roof and wall.

“Shall I go in?” he said to himself. “I know Dick will laugh at me if I don’t.”

Then he hesitated: the place looked so dark and cold and forbidding, while without it was so light and bright and sunshiny.

“I sha’n’t go,” he muttered. “Let him laugh if he likes, and that Cornish fisher-boy as well. I don’t see why I should go into the nasty old cellar.”

Then he peered in, and thought that he would like to go in just a little way; and stretching out one leg he was about to set his foot down when there was a black shadow cast at his feet, a rushing noise, and something came quite close, uttered a harsh cry, and dashed off.

Arthur Temple bounded back into the broad sunshine with his heart beating painfully; and even when he saw that it was one of the great black fishing-birds that had dipped down and dashed off again he was not much better.

“I wish I were not so nervous!” he muttered; and he looked about hastily.

“I’m glad no one was here, though,” he added. “How Dick would have laughed! Now I’ll follow them in. No, I won’t. I’ll say I wanted to fish;” and snatching at this idea he ran down to the boat, got in, and arranging the line, gave the lead a swing and threw it seaward, so that it should fall in the deep channel among the rocks, where there was not the slightest likelihood of his getting a fish.

But it requires some skill to throw out lead attached to a fishing-line, especially when there are ten or twelve feet of line between the lead and the hook.

Hence it was then that when Arthur Temple swung the lead to and fro, and finally let it go seaward, there was a sharp tug and a splash, the lead falling into the water about a couple of yards from the stern, and the hook sticking tightly in the gunwale of the boat.

“Bother!” exclaimed Arthur angrily as he proceeded to haul the lead in, and then to extricate the hook, whose bait wanted rearranging, while the hook itself was a good deal opened out in drawing it from the wood.

He got all right at last, screwing up his face a good deal at having to replace the bait, and then stopping to wash his hands very carefully and wipe them upon his pocket-handkerchief. This done, he smelt his fingers.

“Pah!” he ejaculated; and he proceeded to wash and wipe them again before rearranging the line; and then after swinging the lead to and fro four or five times, he let it go, giving it a tremendous jerk, which recoiled so upon his frame, and caused the boat to swerve so much, that he nearly fell overboard, and only saved himself by throwing himself down and catching at the thwarts.

“Bother the beastly, abominable old boat!” he cried angrily as he scrambled up, and with all the pettishness of a spoiled child, kicked the side with all his might, a satisfactory proceeding which resulted in the wood giving forth a hollow sound, and a painful sensation arising from an injured toe.

He felt a little better, though, after getting rid of this touch of spite, and he smiled with satisfaction, too, for the lead had descended some distance off in the water, and with a self-complacent smile Arthur Temple sat down on the edge of the boat and waited for a bite.

“This is better than getting wet and dirty in that cavern,” he said. “It’s warm and sunshiny, and old Dick will be as savage as savage if he finds that I’ve caught three or four good fish before he comes. Was that a touch?”

It did not seem to be, so Arthur sat patiently on waiting for the bite, and sometimes looking over the side, where, in the clear water, half-hidden by a shelf of rock, he could see what at first made him start, for it looked like an enormous flat spider lying about three feet down, watching him with a couple of eyes like small peas, mounted, mushroom-fashion, on a stalk.

“Why, it’s an old crab,” he said; “only a small one, though. Ugh! what a disgusting-looking beast!”

He remained watching the crab for some few minutes, and then looked straight along the line, which washed up and down on a piece of rock as the waves came softly in, bearing that peculiar sea-weedy scent from the shore. Then he had another look at the crab, and could distinctly see its peculiar water-breathing apparatus at work, playing like some piece of mechanism about its mouth, while sometimes one claw would be raised a little way, then another, as if the mollusc were sparring at Arthur, and asking him to come on.

“Ugh! the ridiculous-looking little monster!” he muttered. “I wonder how long they’ll be! What a while it is before I get a bite!”

But he did not get a bite all the same. For, in the first place, there were none but very small fish in and about the rocks—little wrasse, and blennies wherever the bottom was sandy, and tiny crabs scuffling in and out among the stones, where jelly-fish were opening and shutting and expanding their tentacles in search of minute food.

In the second place, Arthur sat on fishing, happily unconscious of the fact that he was in a similar position to the short-sighted old man in the caricature. This individual is by a river side comfortably seated beneath a tree, his rod horizontally held above the water, but his line and float, where he has jerked them, four or five feet above his head in an overhanging bough.

There were no overhanging boughs near Arthur, and no trees; but when he threw in his line the lead had gone into a rock-pool, the hook had stopped in a patch of sea-weed on a rock high and dry, and the bait of squid was being nicely cooked and frizzled in the sun.

“I think it wants a new bait,” said our fisherman at last very importantly; and, drawing in the line, the lead came with a bump up against the side of the boat, while the bait was dragged through the water, and came in thoroughly wet once more.

“I thought so,” said Arthur complacently as he examined the shrunken bait. “Something has been at it and sucked all the goodness away. I wish that fisher-boy was here to put on a fresh one.”

But that fisher-boy was right in the cavern, so Arthur had to put on a fresh bait himself. This done, and very badly too, he took the line in hand once more, stood up on the thwart, spreading his legs wide apart to steady himself, because the boat rocked; and then, after giving the heavy lead a good swing, sent it off with a thrill of triumph, which rapidly changed to a look of horror, accompanied by a yell of pain.

“Oh! oh! oh! oh!” cried Arthur. “My leg! my leg! my leg! Oh! help! help! help!” and sitting down in the boat he began to drag in the line rapidly, as he thoroughly realised the fact that he had caught a very large and a very odd fish this time.

Note: Zorn, the Cornish name for a sea-cave.

Chapter Seventeen.Pilchar’ Will performs a surgical operation; which is followed by a wet walk home.While Arthur had been amusing himself by fishing, with the result just told, his father had penetrated into the cave, closely followed by Dick, Will, and lastly by Josh.“I’ll see fair for ’em anyhow,” Josh said; and wetting his hands once more, he followed the dancing light, closing up directly after Will.“Shall we find anything here, father?” said Dick as his eyes wandered over the dimly-seen masses of rugged rock above his head.“Perhaps,” said his father—“perhaps not. I want to find traces of some good vein of ore; I don’t care what, so long as it is well worth working. Of course this place has been thoroughly explored before,—at least I should expect so,—but changes are always taking place. Rock shells off in time; great pieces fall and lay bare treasures that have never before been seen.”“Treasures, father?” cried Dick eagerly.“Yes, treasures. Not buried treasures—Spanish doubloons or ingots, my boy, but nature’s own treasures. We may as well hunt in all sorts of places, for I mean to find something worth working before I have done.”“I say, father, isn’t it all stuff and nonsense about anything living in a cave like this?”“What—of the hobgoblin kind, Dick?”“Yes, father.”Mr Temple did not answer for a few moments, and then he replied in the same low tone as that in which his son had asked the question.“For shame, Dick!” he said softly.That was all.Dick felt it as a severe rebuke, and did not speak for a minute or two as they went on winding in and out among the rocks, with the roof rapidly curving down, and the floor, which was sandy no longer, seeming to rise as the sides of the cave contracted and the travelling had become an awkward climb.“I don’t believe any of that stuff, father,” said Dick softly.“That’s right,” replied Mr Temple. “Hah: yes!” he said holding the lantern so that the light shone on the roof—“tin!”“Tin, father?” cried Dick joyfully. “Have you found tin?”“Yes, but too poor to be worth working;” and Mr Temple went on a little, and stopped to chip the side with his hammer. “Traces of copper here,” he said. “Look: peacock ore; very pretty to look at, but ruinous to work, Dick. Ah! we seem to be coming to the end now.”“Would seals be likely to live in a cave like this?” said Dick.“I should think not,” replied Mr Temple. “The entrance is not near enough to the water. I think they like a place where they can swim right in and out at all times of the tide.”“That’s so,” said Josh, who had overheard the remark.“The cave we know, Master Dick,” said Will, “is one where you can row right in.”“Can’t we go now?” cried Dick excitedly.“Wait, wait,” said Mr Temple, “don’t be impatient, my lad. All in good time. Ah! here is the end; and look here, my man, here are some of your strange creatures’ drinking vessels.”As he spoke he stepped forward and let the light play upon some pieces of wood, beyond which were five or six very old empty tubs that were a little less than ordinary wooden pails, but narrow at each end like a barrel.Josh came forward with Will to stare at the half-rotten fragments, which were black and slimy with the drippings from the roof, and the iron hoops were so eaten away that upon Mr Temple touching one of the tubs with his foot it crumbled down into a heap of black-looking earth.“Fishermen’s buoys,” said Will, looking at the heap wonderingly.“No, my lad; smugglers’ brandy-tubs,” said Mr Temple. “And you, Josh, here’s the explanation of your cock-and-bull story. Some fishermen once saw the smugglers stealing in here by night, and at once set them down as being supernatural. There, let’s get out and climb up the rock to the old working. No. Stop; just as I thought; here is the adit.”For they had suddenly come upon the narrow passage that led into the shaft—a low square tunnel, not so carefully-cut as the one they had previously explored.“Is this likely to be an adit, father?” said Dick, who had caught the term. “Isn’t it the natural cave hole?”“Yes—enlarged,” said Mr Temple, letting the light play on the wet sides. “Here are the marks of the pick and hammer, looking pretty fresh still. But we shall gain nothing by going in there except wet jackets. How the water drips!”For, as they listened, they could hear it musically trickling down, and in another part falling with a regularpat, pat, paton the rocky floor.“But where does the water go?” asked Dick. “It ran out of the other in a little stream.”“Far behind us somewhere, I daresay,” replied his father. “Don’t you see how this floor upon which we stand has been covered with great pieces of rock that have fallen from above? All, Dick, since men worked here. Perhaps this place was worked as a mine a hundred years before the smugglers used the cave, and they have not been here, I should say, for two or three generations. Now let’s get out into daylight once more. You would not be scared again about entering a dark cave, eh, Dick?”“No, father—Oh! the light!”“I’m glad of that,” replied Mr Temple, “for the lamp has gone out. The wick was too small,” he added, “and it has slipped through into the oil.”“A mussy me!” groaned Josh. “And in this gashly place!”“Now, then, who’ll lead the way out?” said Mr Temple sharply.“Let me,” cried Dick.“Go on then, my boy. There’s nothing to be afraid of but broken shins. No. Let Will guide, or—pooh! what nonsense! there’s the light. We shall almost be able to see as soon as our eyes grow accustomed to the place.”Will went to the front, slowly feeling his way along with outstretched hands towards a faint reflection before them; and, the others following slowly, they were about half-way back, with the task growing easier each moment, when all at once they heard Arthur’s cry for help. Forgetting his caution, Will began to run, and Dick after him, stumbling and nearly falling two or three times, Mr Temple and Josh hastening after him as eagerly, but with more care, till they rounded a huge mass of stone which shut out the sight of the sea, when they also ran, and joined Dick and Will.“There isn’t much the matter, father,” said Dick, as Mr Temple came running to the boat, “he has only got the hook in his leg.”“Why, I thought he was ’bout killed,” grumbled Josh.“Let me look,” said Mr Temple; and Arthur, as his leg was lifted, uttered a piteous moan, and looked round for sympathy.Mr Temple drew out his knife, and as he opened the sharp blade Arthur shrieked.“Oh, don’t, don’t!” he cried, “I couldn’t bear it.”“Why, they’re not your trousers, Taff, they’re mine,” cried Dick; and Mr Temple laughed heartily.“Don’t be a coward, Arthur,” he said sternly. “I was only going to slit the flannel.”“Oh!” sighed Arthur, “I thought you were going to cut my leg to get out the hook.”“Well, perhaps I shall have to,” said Mr Temple quietly; “but you are too much of a man to mind that.”“Oh!” moaned Arthur again.“Be quiet, sir,” said Mr Temple more sternly. “Take away your hands. You are acting like a child.”“But it hurts so!” moaned Arthur. “Oh! don’t touch it. I can’t bear it touched. Oh! oh! oh!”“Tut! tut! tut!” ejaculated Mr Temple, as Dick caught his brother’s hand.“I say, do have some pluck, Taff,” he whispered. “Of course it hurts, but it will soon be over.”“Yes; it will soon be over,” assented Mr Temple, as with his sharp penknife he cut away the thin cord to which the hook was attached, and with it the remains of the bait.“No, no! let it stop in till it comes out.”“But it will not come out, you stupid fellow,” cried Dick.“Of course not, my boy. It will only fester in your leg, and make it bad,” said Mr Temple.“Oh! oh! oh!” moaned Arthur. “Don’t touch it. How it hurts! Couldn’t I take some medicine to make it come out?”“Yes,” said Mr Temple quietly. “Three grains of courage and determination and it will be out. There, hold still, and I won’t hurt you much. Catch hold of your brother’s hands.”“A mussy me!” grumbled Josh as he looked on, scrubbing and scratching at his head with his great fingers all the time.“Why, you are always talking about going in the army, Arthur,” said Mr Temple, hesitating about extracting the hook, which was buried in the boy’s leg, for he felt that he would have to make a deep cut to get it out—it being impossible to draw it back on account of the barb. “How would it be with you if the surgeon had to take off an arm or leg?”“I don’t want to be a soldier if it’s to hurt like this,” moaned Arthur piteously. “Oh, how unlucky I am!”Mr Temple hesitated for a moment or two longer, thinking of going back and letting a doctor extract the hook; but the next moment his countenance assumed a determined look, and he said firmly:“I will not hurt you more than I can help, my boy; but I must get out that hook.”“No, no, no!” cried Arthur. “We’ll put on a poultice when we get back.”“Poultice won’t suck that out,” growled Josh. “We often gets hooks in ourselves, sir. Let me do it. I’ll have it out in a minute.”“How?” said Mr Temple as he saw Josh pull out his great jack-knife, at the sight of which Arthur shrieked.“Oh! I’ll show you, sir,” said Josh, “if he’ll give over shouting.”“No,” said Mr Temple. “I have a small keen knife here. I can cut it out better than you.”“Cut it out!” roared Josh, completely drowning Arthur’s cry of horror. “You mustn’t cut it out. Here, let Will do it. His fingers is handier than mine.”“Yes, sir, I can get it out very quickly,” said Will eagerly.“Do it, then,” said Mr Temple. “I’ll hold him.”“No, no, no!” shrieked Arthur.“Be silent, sir,” said his father sternly; and Arthur was cowed by the angry look and words.“Poor old Taff!” said Dick to him softly as he held his hand. “I wish it was in my leg instead;” and the tears stood in his eyes, bespeaking his sincerity as he spoke.“Give me that old marlinspike, Josh, and your knife,” said Will quickly; and he took the iron bar and great jack-knife that were handed to him.“My good lad, what are you going to do?” said Mr Temple. “You must not dig it out with that.”“Oh, no, sir!” said Will, smiling confidently. “I’m going to cut the shank in two so as to get rid of the flattened end. Here, you hold his leg on the gunwale. That’s it. Pinch the hook with your fingers. I won’t cut ’em, sir.”“I see!” exclaimed Mr Temple quietly; and as Arthur moaned piteously, afraid now more of his father’s anger than of the pain, Mr Temple held the injured leg against the side of the boat, pinching the shank of the hook with his fingers.Will did not hesitate a moment, but placed the edge of the great jack-knife on the soft tinned-iron hook, gave the back of the blade a sharp tap with the iron bar, and cut clean through the shank.Arthur winced as he watched the descent of the marlinspike, but he was held too tightly by his father for him to move away, had he wished; and this he did not attempt, for fear of greater pain.What followed was almost like a conjuring trick, it was so quickly done. For, thrusting Mr Temple’s hands on one side, Will seized Arthur’s leg with his strong young hands, there was a squeak—at least Dick said afterwards that it was a squeak, though it sounded like a shrill “Oh!” and then Will stood up smiling.“Don’t let him, papa—don’t let him!” cried Arthur. “I could not bear it. He hurt me then horribly! I will not have it out! I’ll bear the pain. He shall not do it! He sha’n’t touch—”Arthur stopped, stared, and dragged up the leg of his flannel trousers to examine his leg, where there were two red spots, one of which had a tiny bead of blood oozing from it, but the hook was gone.“Why—where—where’s the hook?” he cried in a querulous tone.“Here it is!” said Will, holding it out, for with a quick turn he had forced it on, sending the barb right through where the point nearly touched the surface, and drawn it out—the shank, of course, easily following the barb now that the flattened part had gone.“Hor! hor! hor! hor!” croaked Josh, indulging in a hoarse laugh. “I taught him how to do that, sir. It’ll only prick a bit now, and heal up in a day or two.”“But—but is it all out?” said Arthur, feeling his leg.“Yes, it’s all out, my boy,” said Mr Temple. “Now what do you say? Shall we bandage your leg and make you a bed at the bottom of the boat?”Arthur looked up at him inquiringly, and then, seeing the amused glances of all around, he said sharply:“I don’t like to be laughed at.”“Then you must learn to be more of a man,” said his father in a low tone, so that no one else could hear. “Arthur, my boy, I felt quite ashamed of your want of courage.”“But it hurt so, papa.”“I daresay it did, and I have no doubt that it hurts a little now; but for goodness’ sake recollect what you are—an English boy, growing to be an English man, and afraid of a little pain! There, jump ashore and forget all about it.”Arthur stood up and obeyed, and then the little party proceeded to climb the cliff, Will leading and selecting the easiest path, till once more they stood beside an open mine-shaft, situated in a nook between two masses of cliff which nearly joined, as it seemed from below, but were quite twenty feet apart when the opening was reached.“No,” said Mr Temple after turning over a little of thedébristhat had been once dug out of the mine; “there would be nothing here worthy of capital and labour.”He busied himself examining the different pieces of stone with his lens, breaking first one fragment and then another, while Dick tried the depth of the shaft by throwing down a stone, then a larger one, the noise of its fall in the water below coming up with a dull echoing plash. The noise made Arthur shrink away and sit down on a piece of rock that was half covered with pink stonecrop, feeling that it would be dangerous to go too near, and conjuring up in his mind thoughts of how horrible it would be to fall into such a place as this.Mr Temple seemed to grow more interested in the place as he went on examining the stones which Will kept picking out from the heap beneath their feet.Then he looked down at the steep slope to the shore, and he could now see why the bank of broken stone was so small, for the waves must have been beating upon it perhaps for a couple of hundred years, sweeping the fragments away, to drive them on along the coast, rolling them over and over till they were ground together or against the rocks and made into the rounded pebbles that strewed the shore.“That will do,” said Mr Temple at last; and as the others descended, he signed to Will to stop, and as soon as they were alone he held out half a crown to him.“You did that very well, my lad,” he said. “You have often taken out hooks before?”“Dozens of times, sir,” said Will quietly, and without offering to take the half-crown. “I don’t want paying for doing such a thing as that, sir.”“Just as you like, my lad,” said Mr Temple, looking at him curiously. “Go on down.”Will began descending the path, and as soon as his head had disappeared Mr Temple picked up a scrap or two more of the stone, examined them carefully, and then, selecting one special piece, he placed it in his pocket and followed Will.There was plenty to interest them as they embarked once more, to find that the tide had risen so much that the boat was rowed over rocks that had previously been out of water.Then on they went, along by the rugged cliffs, Josh keeping them at a sufficient distance from the rocks for them to be in smooth water, while only some twenty or thirty yards away the tide was beating and foaming amongst the great masses of stone, making whirlpools and eddies, swishing up the tangled bladder-wrack and long-fronded sea-weed, and then pouncing upon it and tearing it back, to once more throw it up again.“Bad place for a ship to go ashore, eh?” said Mr Temple to Josh.“Bad place, sir? Ay! There was a big three-master did go on the rocks just about here three years ago, and the next morning there was nothing but matchwood and timber torn into rags. Sea’s wonderful strong when she’s in a rage.”“Yes; it must be an awful coast in a storm.”“Ay, it be!” said Josh. “See yon island, sir?” he continued, pointing to a long black reef standing up out of the sea about half a mile from shore. “Why, I’ve known that covered by the waves. They’ll wash right over it, and send their tops clean over them highest rocks.”“And how high are they?” said Mr Temple, examining the ragged pile, upon which were perched half a dozen beautiful grey gulls, apparently watching their fellows, who were slowly wheeling about over the surface in search of food.“Good fifty feet, sir; and I’ve seen the waves come rolling in like great walls, and when they reached the rocks they’ve seemed to run right up ’em and go clean over.”“That’s what you call the sea running mountains high, eh, my man?” said Mr Temple, rather dryly.“No, sir, I don’t,” said Josh quietly; “’cause the sea don’t run mountains high. Out in the middle of the bay there, where the water’s deep, I dunno as ever I see a wave that would be more than say fifteen foot high. It’s when it comes on the rocks and strikes that the water’s thrown up so far. Look at that, sir,” he said, pointing towards a wave that came along apparently higher than the boat, as if it would swamp them, but over which they rode easily. “See where she breaks!”They watched the wave seem to gather force till it rose up, curled over like a glistening arc of water, striking the rocks, and then rushing up, to come back in a dazzling cascade of foam.“How high did she go?” said Josh quietly.“Why, it must have dashed up nine or ten feet, my man,” replied Mr Temple.“Things look small out here, sir,” said Josh. “If you was to measure that you’d find it all two fathom, and this is a fine day. Sea leaps pretty high in a storm, as maybe you’ll see if you’re going to stop down here.”“I hope I shall,” said Mr Temple. “Now, then, where are you going to land next?”“Will and me thought p’r’aps you’d like to see the white rock as he found one day?”“White rock? what is it—quartz?” said Mr Temple.“No, sir, I don’t think it is,” said Will; “it’s too soft for that.”“You know what quartz is, then,” said Mr Temple quickly.“Oh, yes, sir! all the mining lads down here know what that is. Pull steady, Josh. Somewhere about here, wasn’t it?”“Nay, nay, my lad. I should have thought you’d knowed. Second cove beyond the seal-cave.”“Seal-cave!” cried Dick. “Are we going by the seal-cave?”“Yes,” said Will; “but the sea is too high to go in to-day. There’s the seal-cave,” he continued, pointing to a small hole into which the waves kept dashing and foaming out again. From where they were it did not seem to be above half a yard across, and not more above the sea to the jagged arch, while at times a wave raced in and it was out of sight—completely covered by the foaming water.“I don’t think much of that,” said Arthur; “it looks more like a rough dog kennel.”“Yes, sir; sea-dog’s kennel,” said Will, who always addressed Arthur as “sir,” while he dropped that title of respect with Dick.“Ah! well, you must examine the seal-cave another day,” said Mr Temple. “Let’s see this vein of white stone that you say you found, my lad.”Five minutes’ rowing brought them abreast of a split in the cliff, which was divided from top to bottom; and here, after a little manoeuvring, Josh took the boat in, but the sea was so rough that every now and then, to Dick’s delight, they were splashed, and Arthur held on tightly by the thwart.“I shall have to stop aboard, sir,” said Josh, “and keep the boat off the rocks, or we shall have a hole in her. I’ll back in astarn, and then perhaps you wouldn’t mind jumping off when I take you close to that flat rock.”Mr Temple nodded, and as the boat was turned and backed in, he stood up and followed Will, who lightly leaped on to the rock, while before they knew it, Dick was beside them, and the boat a dozen feet away.“Be careful,” was all he said, and then he smiled as his eyes rested upon Arthur, who was holding on to the thwart with both hands looking the image of dismay. For the boat was in troubled water, rising and falling pretty quickly, and requiring all Josh’s attention to keep it from bumping on the rocks.Will started forward at once, clambering into the narrow rift, which was not very easy of access on account of the number of brambles that ran in all directions, but by carefully pressing them down, the trio got on till they were some fifty feet up the rift. Then, stooping down, Will bent some rough growth aside so as to lay bare the rock and show that, nearly hidden by grey lichen and stonecrop which was growing very abundantly, the rock seemed to be of a pinky cream instead of the prevailing grey and black.Mr Temple examined it closely without a word. Then taking out his hammer he was about to strike off a fragment, but he refrained and rose up once more.“That will do for to-day,” he said, to Will’s disappointment; and for the time it seemed as if the white vein of soft rock was not worthy of notice; but Will noted one thing, and so did Dick. It was that Mr Temple carefully replaced the brambles and overgrowth before climbing higher to the very top of the rift, where he could look out on the open country before he descended and joined the two boys again.“Now,” he said shortly, “back to the boat.”It needed no little skill to get aboard the boat, but Josh handled her so well that he sent her stern close up to the rock upon which they had landed; but just as Mr Temple was about to step on to the rock, in came a wave, and it was flooded two feet deep.“Little quicker next time, sir,” shouted Josh.“Will you go first, Dick?” said Mr Temple. “Or no; I will,” he added; and this time he managed so well that he stepped on to the rock as it was left dry, and from it to the gunwale of the boat as it came towards him, and thence on board.“Now, Dick, watch your time,” said Mr Temple as he sat down.“All right, father!” shouted back Dick. “I can do it.”“Don’t hurry, master,” said Josh, as the stone was once more flooded. “Now!” he cried, as the wave sank again.“One, two, three warning!” shouted Dick, and he jumped on to the rock as it was left bare again, and then found himself sliding on a piece of slimy sea-weed rapidly towards the edge. He made a tremendous effort to recover himself; but it had the contrary effect, and as the next wave came in poor Dick went into it head over heels, and down into deep water.Arthur uttered a cry, and Mr Temple started up in the boat.“Sit down!” roared Josh; “he’ll come up, and I’ll put you alongside him.”Almost as he spoke Dick’s head popped up out of the water, and he shook the hair out of his eyes and swam towards the boat, into which he half climbed, was half dragged, and there stood dripping and looking astonished.“I say, how was that?” he said, staring from one to the other. “I couldn’t stop myself. It was like being on ice.”“Sea-weed,” said Josh gruffly. “Steady, Will, lad. Don’tyoucome aboard that way.”Will did not, but stepped lightly from rock to rock and then into the boat, hardly wetting his feet.“If I was you, Master Dick,” said Josh, “I’d take an oar and row going back—leastwise if we be going back. Then you won’t hurt a bit.”“I was going to propose walking home,” said Mr Temple, “and I think that will be best.”So they were set ashore at the nearest point to the cliff pathway, where a tramp over the hot rocks with the sunshine streaming down upon his head, half dried Dick before he got back to their rooms, where the dinner he ate after a change fully proved that he was none the worse for this second dip.“I say, father,” he said, “one ought to get used to the sea down here.”“I think so too,” said his father smiling; “but, Dick, you must not go on like this.”“No,” said Dick; “it’s Taff’s turn now;” and he said it in so quietly serious a manner that his brother half rose from his seat.“Oh! by the way, Arthur,” said Mr Temple, “Dick’s accident made me forget yours. How is the wounded leg?”“Better, I think,” said Arthur, for he had forgotten its existence all through the walk home.

While Arthur had been amusing himself by fishing, with the result just told, his father had penetrated into the cave, closely followed by Dick, Will, and lastly by Josh.

“I’ll see fair for ’em anyhow,” Josh said; and wetting his hands once more, he followed the dancing light, closing up directly after Will.

“Shall we find anything here, father?” said Dick as his eyes wandered over the dimly-seen masses of rugged rock above his head.

“Perhaps,” said his father—“perhaps not. I want to find traces of some good vein of ore; I don’t care what, so long as it is well worth working. Of course this place has been thoroughly explored before,—at least I should expect so,—but changes are always taking place. Rock shells off in time; great pieces fall and lay bare treasures that have never before been seen.”

“Treasures, father?” cried Dick eagerly.

“Yes, treasures. Not buried treasures—Spanish doubloons or ingots, my boy, but nature’s own treasures. We may as well hunt in all sorts of places, for I mean to find something worth working before I have done.”

“I say, father, isn’t it all stuff and nonsense about anything living in a cave like this?”

“What—of the hobgoblin kind, Dick?”

“Yes, father.”

Mr Temple did not answer for a few moments, and then he replied in the same low tone as that in which his son had asked the question.

“For shame, Dick!” he said softly.

That was all.

Dick felt it as a severe rebuke, and did not speak for a minute or two as they went on winding in and out among the rocks, with the roof rapidly curving down, and the floor, which was sandy no longer, seeming to rise as the sides of the cave contracted and the travelling had become an awkward climb.

“I don’t believe any of that stuff, father,” said Dick softly.

“That’s right,” replied Mr Temple. “Hah: yes!” he said holding the lantern so that the light shone on the roof—“tin!”

“Tin, father?” cried Dick joyfully. “Have you found tin?”

“Yes, but too poor to be worth working;” and Mr Temple went on a little, and stopped to chip the side with his hammer. “Traces of copper here,” he said. “Look: peacock ore; very pretty to look at, but ruinous to work, Dick. Ah! we seem to be coming to the end now.”

“Would seals be likely to live in a cave like this?” said Dick.

“I should think not,” replied Mr Temple. “The entrance is not near enough to the water. I think they like a place where they can swim right in and out at all times of the tide.”

“That’s so,” said Josh, who had overheard the remark.

“The cave we know, Master Dick,” said Will, “is one where you can row right in.”

“Can’t we go now?” cried Dick excitedly.

“Wait, wait,” said Mr Temple, “don’t be impatient, my lad. All in good time. Ah! here is the end; and look here, my man, here are some of your strange creatures’ drinking vessels.”

As he spoke he stepped forward and let the light play upon some pieces of wood, beyond which were five or six very old empty tubs that were a little less than ordinary wooden pails, but narrow at each end like a barrel.

Josh came forward with Will to stare at the half-rotten fragments, which were black and slimy with the drippings from the roof, and the iron hoops were so eaten away that upon Mr Temple touching one of the tubs with his foot it crumbled down into a heap of black-looking earth.

“Fishermen’s buoys,” said Will, looking at the heap wonderingly.

“No, my lad; smugglers’ brandy-tubs,” said Mr Temple. “And you, Josh, here’s the explanation of your cock-and-bull story. Some fishermen once saw the smugglers stealing in here by night, and at once set them down as being supernatural. There, let’s get out and climb up the rock to the old working. No. Stop; just as I thought; here is the adit.”

For they had suddenly come upon the narrow passage that led into the shaft—a low square tunnel, not so carefully-cut as the one they had previously explored.

“Is this likely to be an adit, father?” said Dick, who had caught the term. “Isn’t it the natural cave hole?”

“Yes—enlarged,” said Mr Temple, letting the light play on the wet sides. “Here are the marks of the pick and hammer, looking pretty fresh still. But we shall gain nothing by going in there except wet jackets. How the water drips!”

For, as they listened, they could hear it musically trickling down, and in another part falling with a regularpat, pat, paton the rocky floor.

“But where does the water go?” asked Dick. “It ran out of the other in a little stream.”

“Far behind us somewhere, I daresay,” replied his father. “Don’t you see how this floor upon which we stand has been covered with great pieces of rock that have fallen from above? All, Dick, since men worked here. Perhaps this place was worked as a mine a hundred years before the smugglers used the cave, and they have not been here, I should say, for two or three generations. Now let’s get out into daylight once more. You would not be scared again about entering a dark cave, eh, Dick?”

“No, father—Oh! the light!”

“I’m glad of that,” replied Mr Temple, “for the lamp has gone out. The wick was too small,” he added, “and it has slipped through into the oil.”

“A mussy me!” groaned Josh. “And in this gashly place!”

“Now, then, who’ll lead the way out?” said Mr Temple sharply.

“Let me,” cried Dick.

“Go on then, my boy. There’s nothing to be afraid of but broken shins. No. Let Will guide, or—pooh! what nonsense! there’s the light. We shall almost be able to see as soon as our eyes grow accustomed to the place.”

Will went to the front, slowly feeling his way along with outstretched hands towards a faint reflection before them; and, the others following slowly, they were about half-way back, with the task growing easier each moment, when all at once they heard Arthur’s cry for help. Forgetting his caution, Will began to run, and Dick after him, stumbling and nearly falling two or three times, Mr Temple and Josh hastening after him as eagerly, but with more care, till they rounded a huge mass of stone which shut out the sight of the sea, when they also ran, and joined Dick and Will.

“There isn’t much the matter, father,” said Dick, as Mr Temple came running to the boat, “he has only got the hook in his leg.”

“Why, I thought he was ’bout killed,” grumbled Josh.

“Let me look,” said Mr Temple; and Arthur, as his leg was lifted, uttered a piteous moan, and looked round for sympathy.

Mr Temple drew out his knife, and as he opened the sharp blade Arthur shrieked.

“Oh, don’t, don’t!” he cried, “I couldn’t bear it.”

“Why, they’re not your trousers, Taff, they’re mine,” cried Dick; and Mr Temple laughed heartily.

“Don’t be a coward, Arthur,” he said sternly. “I was only going to slit the flannel.”

“Oh!” sighed Arthur, “I thought you were going to cut my leg to get out the hook.”

“Well, perhaps I shall have to,” said Mr Temple quietly; “but you are too much of a man to mind that.”

“Oh!” moaned Arthur again.

“Be quiet, sir,” said Mr Temple more sternly. “Take away your hands. You are acting like a child.”

“But it hurts so!” moaned Arthur. “Oh! don’t touch it. I can’t bear it touched. Oh! oh! oh!”

“Tut! tut! tut!” ejaculated Mr Temple, as Dick caught his brother’s hand.

“I say, do have some pluck, Taff,” he whispered. “Of course it hurts, but it will soon be over.”

“Yes; it will soon be over,” assented Mr Temple, as with his sharp penknife he cut away the thin cord to which the hook was attached, and with it the remains of the bait.

“No, no! let it stop in till it comes out.”

“But it will not come out, you stupid fellow,” cried Dick.

“Of course not, my boy. It will only fester in your leg, and make it bad,” said Mr Temple.

“Oh! oh! oh!” moaned Arthur. “Don’t touch it. How it hurts! Couldn’t I take some medicine to make it come out?”

“Yes,” said Mr Temple quietly. “Three grains of courage and determination and it will be out. There, hold still, and I won’t hurt you much. Catch hold of your brother’s hands.”

“A mussy me!” grumbled Josh as he looked on, scrubbing and scratching at his head with his great fingers all the time.

“Why, you are always talking about going in the army, Arthur,” said Mr Temple, hesitating about extracting the hook, which was buried in the boy’s leg, for he felt that he would have to make a deep cut to get it out—it being impossible to draw it back on account of the barb. “How would it be with you if the surgeon had to take off an arm or leg?”

“I don’t want to be a soldier if it’s to hurt like this,” moaned Arthur piteously. “Oh, how unlucky I am!”

Mr Temple hesitated for a moment or two longer, thinking of going back and letting a doctor extract the hook; but the next moment his countenance assumed a determined look, and he said firmly:

“I will not hurt you more than I can help, my boy; but I must get out that hook.”

“No, no, no!” cried Arthur. “We’ll put on a poultice when we get back.”

“Poultice won’t suck that out,” growled Josh. “We often gets hooks in ourselves, sir. Let me do it. I’ll have it out in a minute.”

“How?” said Mr Temple as he saw Josh pull out his great jack-knife, at the sight of which Arthur shrieked.

“Oh! I’ll show you, sir,” said Josh, “if he’ll give over shouting.”

“No,” said Mr Temple. “I have a small keen knife here. I can cut it out better than you.”

“Cut it out!” roared Josh, completely drowning Arthur’s cry of horror. “You mustn’t cut it out. Here, let Will do it. His fingers is handier than mine.”

“Yes, sir, I can get it out very quickly,” said Will eagerly.

“Do it, then,” said Mr Temple. “I’ll hold him.”

“No, no, no!” shrieked Arthur.

“Be silent, sir,” said his father sternly; and Arthur was cowed by the angry look and words.

“Poor old Taff!” said Dick to him softly as he held his hand. “I wish it was in my leg instead;” and the tears stood in his eyes, bespeaking his sincerity as he spoke.

“Give me that old marlinspike, Josh, and your knife,” said Will quickly; and he took the iron bar and great jack-knife that were handed to him.

“My good lad, what are you going to do?” said Mr Temple. “You must not dig it out with that.”

“Oh, no, sir!” said Will, smiling confidently. “I’m going to cut the shank in two so as to get rid of the flattened end. Here, you hold his leg on the gunwale. That’s it. Pinch the hook with your fingers. I won’t cut ’em, sir.”

“I see!” exclaimed Mr Temple quietly; and as Arthur moaned piteously, afraid now more of his father’s anger than of the pain, Mr Temple held the injured leg against the side of the boat, pinching the shank of the hook with his fingers.

Will did not hesitate a moment, but placed the edge of the great jack-knife on the soft tinned-iron hook, gave the back of the blade a sharp tap with the iron bar, and cut clean through the shank.

Arthur winced as he watched the descent of the marlinspike, but he was held too tightly by his father for him to move away, had he wished; and this he did not attempt, for fear of greater pain.

What followed was almost like a conjuring trick, it was so quickly done. For, thrusting Mr Temple’s hands on one side, Will seized Arthur’s leg with his strong young hands, there was a squeak—at least Dick said afterwards that it was a squeak, though it sounded like a shrill “Oh!” and then Will stood up smiling.

“Don’t let him, papa—don’t let him!” cried Arthur. “I could not bear it. He hurt me then horribly! I will not have it out! I’ll bear the pain. He shall not do it! He sha’n’t touch—”

Arthur stopped, stared, and dragged up the leg of his flannel trousers to examine his leg, where there were two red spots, one of which had a tiny bead of blood oozing from it, but the hook was gone.

“Why—where—where’s the hook?” he cried in a querulous tone.

“Here it is!” said Will, holding it out, for with a quick turn he had forced it on, sending the barb right through where the point nearly touched the surface, and drawn it out—the shank, of course, easily following the barb now that the flattened part had gone.

“Hor! hor! hor! hor!” croaked Josh, indulging in a hoarse laugh. “I taught him how to do that, sir. It’ll only prick a bit now, and heal up in a day or two.”

“But—but is it all out?” said Arthur, feeling his leg.

“Yes, it’s all out, my boy,” said Mr Temple. “Now what do you say? Shall we bandage your leg and make you a bed at the bottom of the boat?”

Arthur looked up at him inquiringly, and then, seeing the amused glances of all around, he said sharply:

“I don’t like to be laughed at.”

“Then you must learn to be more of a man,” said his father in a low tone, so that no one else could hear. “Arthur, my boy, I felt quite ashamed of your want of courage.”

“But it hurt so, papa.”

“I daresay it did, and I have no doubt that it hurts a little now; but for goodness’ sake recollect what you are—an English boy, growing to be an English man, and afraid of a little pain! There, jump ashore and forget all about it.”

Arthur stood up and obeyed, and then the little party proceeded to climb the cliff, Will leading and selecting the easiest path, till once more they stood beside an open mine-shaft, situated in a nook between two masses of cliff which nearly joined, as it seemed from below, but were quite twenty feet apart when the opening was reached.

“No,” said Mr Temple after turning over a little of thedébristhat had been once dug out of the mine; “there would be nothing here worthy of capital and labour.”

He busied himself examining the different pieces of stone with his lens, breaking first one fragment and then another, while Dick tried the depth of the shaft by throwing down a stone, then a larger one, the noise of its fall in the water below coming up with a dull echoing plash. The noise made Arthur shrink away and sit down on a piece of rock that was half covered with pink stonecrop, feeling that it would be dangerous to go too near, and conjuring up in his mind thoughts of how horrible it would be to fall into such a place as this.

Mr Temple seemed to grow more interested in the place as he went on examining the stones which Will kept picking out from the heap beneath their feet.

Then he looked down at the steep slope to the shore, and he could now see why the bank of broken stone was so small, for the waves must have been beating upon it perhaps for a couple of hundred years, sweeping the fragments away, to drive them on along the coast, rolling them over and over till they were ground together or against the rocks and made into the rounded pebbles that strewed the shore.

“That will do,” said Mr Temple at last; and as the others descended, he signed to Will to stop, and as soon as they were alone he held out half a crown to him.

“You did that very well, my lad,” he said. “You have often taken out hooks before?”

“Dozens of times, sir,” said Will quietly, and without offering to take the half-crown. “I don’t want paying for doing such a thing as that, sir.”

“Just as you like, my lad,” said Mr Temple, looking at him curiously. “Go on down.”

Will began descending the path, and as soon as his head had disappeared Mr Temple picked up a scrap or two more of the stone, examined them carefully, and then, selecting one special piece, he placed it in his pocket and followed Will.

There was plenty to interest them as they embarked once more, to find that the tide had risen so much that the boat was rowed over rocks that had previously been out of water.

Then on they went, along by the rugged cliffs, Josh keeping them at a sufficient distance from the rocks for them to be in smooth water, while only some twenty or thirty yards away the tide was beating and foaming amongst the great masses of stone, making whirlpools and eddies, swishing up the tangled bladder-wrack and long-fronded sea-weed, and then pouncing upon it and tearing it back, to once more throw it up again.

“Bad place for a ship to go ashore, eh?” said Mr Temple to Josh.

“Bad place, sir? Ay! There was a big three-master did go on the rocks just about here three years ago, and the next morning there was nothing but matchwood and timber torn into rags. Sea’s wonderful strong when she’s in a rage.”

“Yes; it must be an awful coast in a storm.”

“Ay, it be!” said Josh. “See yon island, sir?” he continued, pointing to a long black reef standing up out of the sea about half a mile from shore. “Why, I’ve known that covered by the waves. They’ll wash right over it, and send their tops clean over them highest rocks.”

“And how high are they?” said Mr Temple, examining the ragged pile, upon which were perched half a dozen beautiful grey gulls, apparently watching their fellows, who were slowly wheeling about over the surface in search of food.

“Good fifty feet, sir; and I’ve seen the waves come rolling in like great walls, and when they reached the rocks they’ve seemed to run right up ’em and go clean over.”

“That’s what you call the sea running mountains high, eh, my man?” said Mr Temple, rather dryly.

“No, sir, I don’t,” said Josh quietly; “’cause the sea don’t run mountains high. Out in the middle of the bay there, where the water’s deep, I dunno as ever I see a wave that would be more than say fifteen foot high. It’s when it comes on the rocks and strikes that the water’s thrown up so far. Look at that, sir,” he said, pointing towards a wave that came along apparently higher than the boat, as if it would swamp them, but over which they rode easily. “See where she breaks!”

They watched the wave seem to gather force till it rose up, curled over like a glistening arc of water, striking the rocks, and then rushing up, to come back in a dazzling cascade of foam.

“How high did she go?” said Josh quietly.

“Why, it must have dashed up nine or ten feet, my man,” replied Mr Temple.

“Things look small out here, sir,” said Josh. “If you was to measure that you’d find it all two fathom, and this is a fine day. Sea leaps pretty high in a storm, as maybe you’ll see if you’re going to stop down here.”

“I hope I shall,” said Mr Temple. “Now, then, where are you going to land next?”

“Will and me thought p’r’aps you’d like to see the white rock as he found one day?”

“White rock? what is it—quartz?” said Mr Temple.

“No, sir, I don’t think it is,” said Will; “it’s too soft for that.”

“You know what quartz is, then,” said Mr Temple quickly.

“Oh, yes, sir! all the mining lads down here know what that is. Pull steady, Josh. Somewhere about here, wasn’t it?”

“Nay, nay, my lad. I should have thought you’d knowed. Second cove beyond the seal-cave.”

“Seal-cave!” cried Dick. “Are we going by the seal-cave?”

“Yes,” said Will; “but the sea is too high to go in to-day. There’s the seal-cave,” he continued, pointing to a small hole into which the waves kept dashing and foaming out again. From where they were it did not seem to be above half a yard across, and not more above the sea to the jagged arch, while at times a wave raced in and it was out of sight—completely covered by the foaming water.

“I don’t think much of that,” said Arthur; “it looks more like a rough dog kennel.”

“Yes, sir; sea-dog’s kennel,” said Will, who always addressed Arthur as “sir,” while he dropped that title of respect with Dick.

“Ah! well, you must examine the seal-cave another day,” said Mr Temple. “Let’s see this vein of white stone that you say you found, my lad.”

Five minutes’ rowing brought them abreast of a split in the cliff, which was divided from top to bottom; and here, after a little manoeuvring, Josh took the boat in, but the sea was so rough that every now and then, to Dick’s delight, they were splashed, and Arthur held on tightly by the thwart.

“I shall have to stop aboard, sir,” said Josh, “and keep the boat off the rocks, or we shall have a hole in her. I’ll back in astarn, and then perhaps you wouldn’t mind jumping off when I take you close to that flat rock.”

Mr Temple nodded, and as the boat was turned and backed in, he stood up and followed Will, who lightly leaped on to the rock, while before they knew it, Dick was beside them, and the boat a dozen feet away.

“Be careful,” was all he said, and then he smiled as his eyes rested upon Arthur, who was holding on to the thwart with both hands looking the image of dismay. For the boat was in troubled water, rising and falling pretty quickly, and requiring all Josh’s attention to keep it from bumping on the rocks.

Will started forward at once, clambering into the narrow rift, which was not very easy of access on account of the number of brambles that ran in all directions, but by carefully pressing them down, the trio got on till they were some fifty feet up the rift. Then, stooping down, Will bent some rough growth aside so as to lay bare the rock and show that, nearly hidden by grey lichen and stonecrop which was growing very abundantly, the rock seemed to be of a pinky cream instead of the prevailing grey and black.

Mr Temple examined it closely without a word. Then taking out his hammer he was about to strike off a fragment, but he refrained and rose up once more.

“That will do for to-day,” he said, to Will’s disappointment; and for the time it seemed as if the white vein of soft rock was not worthy of notice; but Will noted one thing, and so did Dick. It was that Mr Temple carefully replaced the brambles and overgrowth before climbing higher to the very top of the rift, where he could look out on the open country before he descended and joined the two boys again.

“Now,” he said shortly, “back to the boat.”

It needed no little skill to get aboard the boat, but Josh handled her so well that he sent her stern close up to the rock upon which they had landed; but just as Mr Temple was about to step on to the rock, in came a wave, and it was flooded two feet deep.

“Little quicker next time, sir,” shouted Josh.

“Will you go first, Dick?” said Mr Temple. “Or no; I will,” he added; and this time he managed so well that he stepped on to the rock as it was left dry, and from it to the gunwale of the boat as it came towards him, and thence on board.

“Now, Dick, watch your time,” said Mr Temple as he sat down.

“All right, father!” shouted back Dick. “I can do it.”

“Don’t hurry, master,” said Josh, as the stone was once more flooded. “Now!” he cried, as the wave sank again.

“One, two, three warning!” shouted Dick, and he jumped on to the rock as it was left bare again, and then found himself sliding on a piece of slimy sea-weed rapidly towards the edge. He made a tremendous effort to recover himself; but it had the contrary effect, and as the next wave came in poor Dick went into it head over heels, and down into deep water.

Arthur uttered a cry, and Mr Temple started up in the boat.

“Sit down!” roared Josh; “he’ll come up, and I’ll put you alongside him.”

Almost as he spoke Dick’s head popped up out of the water, and he shook the hair out of his eyes and swam towards the boat, into which he half climbed, was half dragged, and there stood dripping and looking astonished.

“I say, how was that?” he said, staring from one to the other. “I couldn’t stop myself. It was like being on ice.”

“Sea-weed,” said Josh gruffly. “Steady, Will, lad. Don’tyoucome aboard that way.”

Will did not, but stepped lightly from rock to rock and then into the boat, hardly wetting his feet.

“If I was you, Master Dick,” said Josh, “I’d take an oar and row going back—leastwise if we be going back. Then you won’t hurt a bit.”

“I was going to propose walking home,” said Mr Temple, “and I think that will be best.”

So they were set ashore at the nearest point to the cliff pathway, where a tramp over the hot rocks with the sunshine streaming down upon his head, half dried Dick before he got back to their rooms, where the dinner he ate after a change fully proved that he was none the worse for this second dip.

“I say, father,” he said, “one ought to get used to the sea down here.”

“I think so too,” said his father smiling; “but, Dick, you must not go on like this.”

“No,” said Dick; “it’s Taff’s turn now;” and he said it in so quietly serious a manner that his brother half rose from his seat.

“Oh! by the way, Arthur,” said Mr Temple, “Dick’s accident made me forget yours. How is the wounded leg?”

“Better, I think,” said Arthur, for he had forgotten its existence all through the walk home.

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