Chapter Eleven.

Chapter Eleven.Fighting the Enemy.Gwyn Pendarve’s “Come on!” was loyally responded to by Joe Jollivet, and the two lads made a hurried charge down the slope at the interloper so busy about the old mine-shaft.Now, if you take two dogs out for a walk in the country, unless they are particularly well-behaved, spiritless animals, as soon as they see sheep, cow, or bullock grazing, they will make a furious dash, and if the grazing creature runs, they will have a most enjoyable hunt. But if the quarry stands fast and makes a show of attacking in turn, the probabilities are that the dogs will slacken speed, stop short a few yards away, give vent to their opinions upon the unnatural behaviour of the animal in barks, lower their triumphantly waving tails, and come back at a gentle trot, stopping at times, though, to turn their heads and make a few more remarks in dog language.Truth to tell, when Gwyn and Joe made their charge, they fully expected to see the man leaning over the old wall start off and run; but, as it happened, he did not, but stood up, turned, and faced them, looking a big, sour-faced, truculent fellow, who scowled at them and stood his ground.Whatever their inclinations might have been for the moment, not being dogs, and each having his prestige to keep up in his companion’s eyes, Gwyn and Joe certainly stopped; but they did not turn, but stood firm, noting that the man had a large reel of sea-fishing line evidently of goodly length.“Hullo!” he said, hoarsely. “What’s for you?”“What are you doing here?” cried Gwyn.“What’s that to you?”“Everything. Do you know you are trespassing?”“No. Am I?”“Yes, of course.”“Thank ye for telling me. Good-morning.”Gwyn stared, and then looked at Joe.For, instead of going at once, the man turned his back and drew upon his line, whose end—evidently weighted—was hanging down the shaft; but instead of continuing to draw it out, he let it run down again rapidly from a reel.“Here, stop that,” cried Gwyn. “What are you doing?”The man turned upon them, scowling.“Hullo!” he said; “aren’t you gone? What are you waiting for?”“To know what you’re doing on our property.”“Your property!” said the man, scornfully. “Can’t you see what I’m doing? Fishing.”“Fishing?” cried Joe, who felt staggered, and began wondering whether there might be any underground communication with the sea, through which some of the huge eels of the rocky cove might have made their way.“Yes, fishing,” growled the man. “Don’t make that row, because I’ve got one at me. Be off!”“Nonsense!” cried Gwyn, sharply. “There are no fish there.”“How do you know, youngster?” said the man. “Ever tried?”“No,” replied Gwyn; “but I do know that there are no fish in a hole like that.”“Ho! You’re precious cunning. But never you mind, my young sharpshooter. You be off while your shoes are good.”“How dare you order me to go!” cried Gwyn, flushing. “I told you this was my father’s property.”“No, you didn’t,” said the man, after giving a glance round. “You said it was yours. Consequently you must be a liar, for you tells two tales. Now be off, and don’t bother me.”Joe looked inquiringly at Gwyn, and the silent question meant, “Hadn’t we better go and fetch your father?” But Gwyn felt upon his mettle, and he cried angrily,—“No, it’s you who’ll have to be off. You’re on private grounds, and it’s all nonsense about fishing. I know what you are about.”“Oh, do you?” said the man, sneeringly, as he looked sidewise at the lad, but went on busily all the same with his long line. “Well, what am I about, young clever shaver, if I’m not fishing?”“You’re trespassing, as I told you; and whoever you are, you’ve no right to be doing that.”“Anybody’s got a right to fish.”“Yes, in the sea, but not on private grounds; so now be off at once.”“And suppose I say I won’t,” said the man, menacingly.“But you won’t now you’re told. Be off, please, at once; we can’t have you doing that.”“Why, you’re never going to interfere with a stranger who’s trying to ketch a few podnoddles,” said the man, grinning.“No, but I will with a stranger who has come spying and measuring that mine; so be off at once, and no more nonsense.”“Let’s fetch the Colonel,” whispered Joe.“Yah! go and fetch your grandmother,” snarled the man. “Look here, both of you, I didn’t interfere with you; don’t you come interfering with me, my lads, because I’m one of the sort who turns ugly when he’s meddled with.”Gwyn hesitated for a few moments, and then stepped close up, clapped his hand on the man’s shoulder, and pointed toward the wall.“Come!” he cried; “that’s the way, and don’t you come here again.”The man turned upon him with a wild-beast-like snarl.“Do you want me to pitch you down that hole?” he cried.“No, and you daren’t do it,” cried Gwyn, whose temper rose at this. “Now, then, will you go?”For answer the man swung round fiercely, bringing his right arm across Gwyn’s chest and sending him staggering back for a yard or two.“Come on, Gwyn, let’s fetch the Colonel.”Gwyn’s blood was up. He felt not the slightest inclination to run for help, but, big as the man was, he sprang forward with such energy that, in his surprise, the fellow gave way for the moment, and Gwyn seized the opportunity to make a snatch at the great reel he held, wrenched it from his hand, and threw it to Joe, who caught it as cleverly as if it had been a cricket ball.“Run round the other side, Joe, and drag it out. Run off with it. Never mind me.”Joe obeyed on the instant, and, making for the other side, he dashed off up the side of the gully, dragging the line after him, and was some yards away before the man recovered from his surprise.“Oh, that’s your game, is it?” he cried savagely. “I’ll ’tend to you directly, my lad,” and he made to pass Gwyn, who tried to stop him, but received a thrust which sent him backward on the heath, while the man started to follow Joe.But Gwyn’s life on the rocky coast had made him as active as a cat, and as the fellow was passing he thrust out one leg, tripped him, and his adversary went down with a crash, while, before he could rise, Gwyn was upon him trying to hold him down.The boy was strong for his years, and, gripping his adversary by the collar with both hands, he drove his knees into the man’s ribs, and held on. For some moments the advantage of position was on his side, but it was like trying to ride a mad bull. For the man heaved and twisted, and Gwyn had hard work to maintain his place as long as he did. This was till the man gave a tremendous writhe, sending his rider over sidewise, and then dashing after Joe, who was running as hard as he could go, trailing the line after him.Joe had a good start, and the advantage of being light and accustomed to make his way among the heath and stones; but he soon found that the weight at the end of the line kept on catching in the rough growth; and as he tore on, he saw that the fierce-looking fellow was in full pursuit. If he had dropped the line, he could easily have got away, but Gwyn had thrown that reel to him, and told him to run with it; and setting his teeth he ran on, jerking the weight free again and again, till all at once in one of the bounds it made after a heavy drag, it struck against a small post-like piece of granite which stuck up out of the ground, swung round and clasped it, as the bolas of a South-AmericanIndian twine round the legs of a running animal, and the sudden jerk threw the boy down.He was up again directly, and turned to run and untwist the line, but it was only to rush into the man’s arms, and be thrown, when with a foot upon his chest the fellow began to try and tear the line from his hands.But Joe’s blood was up now, and he held on with all his might, turning himself over so as to get the reel beneath his chest.“Gwyn! Gwyn! Help!” he shouted.“All right!” came from behind him, and his comrade, who had been in pursuit, pitched heavily on to the man’s back, when a trio in struggling commenced, the boys holding on with stubborn determination, and their enemy beginning to strike out savagely with fist and elbow.It was only a question of minutes, and then the boys would have been completely mastered. In fact, it had reached the pitch when the man had them both at his mercy and was kneeling between them, holding each by the throat, and forcing them back on the heather, when there was a loud whistle, the sound of a heavy blow, and the fellow uttered a savage yell as he sprang up and turned upon a fresh adversary. Butwhish! crash! the sounds were repeated, followed by a savage shout, and the man beat a retreat.For Colonel Pendarve had come panting up at the sight of the struggle, and, bringing to bear his old cavalry officer’s skill, delivered three slashing sabre cuts with his heavy cane, the first from the right, the second from the left shoulder, putting the enemy thoroughly to rout. For the man left the trophies of the fight in the boys’ hands, made for the road, and disappeared over the wall.

Gwyn Pendarve’s “Come on!” was loyally responded to by Joe Jollivet, and the two lads made a hurried charge down the slope at the interloper so busy about the old mine-shaft.

Now, if you take two dogs out for a walk in the country, unless they are particularly well-behaved, spiritless animals, as soon as they see sheep, cow, or bullock grazing, they will make a furious dash, and if the grazing creature runs, they will have a most enjoyable hunt. But if the quarry stands fast and makes a show of attacking in turn, the probabilities are that the dogs will slacken speed, stop short a few yards away, give vent to their opinions upon the unnatural behaviour of the animal in barks, lower their triumphantly waving tails, and come back at a gentle trot, stopping at times, though, to turn their heads and make a few more remarks in dog language.

Truth to tell, when Gwyn and Joe made their charge, they fully expected to see the man leaning over the old wall start off and run; but, as it happened, he did not, but stood up, turned, and faced them, looking a big, sour-faced, truculent fellow, who scowled at them and stood his ground.

Whatever their inclinations might have been for the moment, not being dogs, and each having his prestige to keep up in his companion’s eyes, Gwyn and Joe certainly stopped; but they did not turn, but stood firm, noting that the man had a large reel of sea-fishing line evidently of goodly length.

“Hullo!” he said, hoarsely. “What’s for you?”

“What are you doing here?” cried Gwyn.

“What’s that to you?”

“Everything. Do you know you are trespassing?”

“No. Am I?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Thank ye for telling me. Good-morning.”

Gwyn stared, and then looked at Joe.

For, instead of going at once, the man turned his back and drew upon his line, whose end—evidently weighted—was hanging down the shaft; but instead of continuing to draw it out, he let it run down again rapidly from a reel.

“Here, stop that,” cried Gwyn. “What are you doing?”

The man turned upon them, scowling.

“Hullo!” he said; “aren’t you gone? What are you waiting for?”

“To know what you’re doing on our property.”

“Your property!” said the man, scornfully. “Can’t you see what I’m doing? Fishing.”

“Fishing?” cried Joe, who felt staggered, and began wondering whether there might be any underground communication with the sea, through which some of the huge eels of the rocky cove might have made their way.

“Yes, fishing,” growled the man. “Don’t make that row, because I’ve got one at me. Be off!”

“Nonsense!” cried Gwyn, sharply. “There are no fish there.”

“How do you know, youngster?” said the man. “Ever tried?”

“No,” replied Gwyn; “but I do know that there are no fish in a hole like that.”

“Ho! You’re precious cunning. But never you mind, my young sharpshooter. You be off while your shoes are good.”

“How dare you order me to go!” cried Gwyn, flushing. “I told you this was my father’s property.”

“No, you didn’t,” said the man, after giving a glance round. “You said it was yours. Consequently you must be a liar, for you tells two tales. Now be off, and don’t bother me.”

Joe looked inquiringly at Gwyn, and the silent question meant, “Hadn’t we better go and fetch your father?” But Gwyn felt upon his mettle, and he cried angrily,—

“No, it’s you who’ll have to be off. You’re on private grounds, and it’s all nonsense about fishing. I know what you are about.”

“Oh, do you?” said the man, sneeringly, as he looked sidewise at the lad, but went on busily all the same with his long line. “Well, what am I about, young clever shaver, if I’m not fishing?”

“You’re trespassing, as I told you; and whoever you are, you’ve no right to be doing that.”

“Anybody’s got a right to fish.”

“Yes, in the sea, but not on private grounds; so now be off at once.”

“And suppose I say I won’t,” said the man, menacingly.

“But you won’t now you’re told. Be off, please, at once; we can’t have you doing that.”

“Why, you’re never going to interfere with a stranger who’s trying to ketch a few podnoddles,” said the man, grinning.

“No, but I will with a stranger who has come spying and measuring that mine; so be off at once, and no more nonsense.”

“Let’s fetch the Colonel,” whispered Joe.

“Yah! go and fetch your grandmother,” snarled the man. “Look here, both of you, I didn’t interfere with you; don’t you come interfering with me, my lads, because I’m one of the sort who turns ugly when he’s meddled with.”

Gwyn hesitated for a few moments, and then stepped close up, clapped his hand on the man’s shoulder, and pointed toward the wall.

“Come!” he cried; “that’s the way, and don’t you come here again.”

The man turned upon him with a wild-beast-like snarl.

“Do you want me to pitch you down that hole?” he cried.

“No, and you daren’t do it,” cried Gwyn, whose temper rose at this. “Now, then, will you go?”

For answer the man swung round fiercely, bringing his right arm across Gwyn’s chest and sending him staggering back for a yard or two.

“Come on, Gwyn, let’s fetch the Colonel.”

Gwyn’s blood was up. He felt not the slightest inclination to run for help, but, big as the man was, he sprang forward with such energy that, in his surprise, the fellow gave way for the moment, and Gwyn seized the opportunity to make a snatch at the great reel he held, wrenched it from his hand, and threw it to Joe, who caught it as cleverly as if it had been a cricket ball.

“Run round the other side, Joe, and drag it out. Run off with it. Never mind me.”

Joe obeyed on the instant, and, making for the other side, he dashed off up the side of the gully, dragging the line after him, and was some yards away before the man recovered from his surprise.

“Oh, that’s your game, is it?” he cried savagely. “I’ll ’tend to you directly, my lad,” and he made to pass Gwyn, who tried to stop him, but received a thrust which sent him backward on the heath, while the man started to follow Joe.

But Gwyn’s life on the rocky coast had made him as active as a cat, and as the fellow was passing he thrust out one leg, tripped him, and his adversary went down with a crash, while, before he could rise, Gwyn was upon him trying to hold him down.

The boy was strong for his years, and, gripping his adversary by the collar with both hands, he drove his knees into the man’s ribs, and held on. For some moments the advantage of position was on his side, but it was like trying to ride a mad bull. For the man heaved and twisted, and Gwyn had hard work to maintain his place as long as he did. This was till the man gave a tremendous writhe, sending his rider over sidewise, and then dashing after Joe, who was running as hard as he could go, trailing the line after him.

Joe had a good start, and the advantage of being light and accustomed to make his way among the heath and stones; but he soon found that the weight at the end of the line kept on catching in the rough growth; and as he tore on, he saw that the fierce-looking fellow was in full pursuit. If he had dropped the line, he could easily have got away, but Gwyn had thrown that reel to him, and told him to run with it; and setting his teeth he ran on, jerking the weight free again and again, till all at once in one of the bounds it made after a heavy drag, it struck against a small post-like piece of granite which stuck up out of the ground, swung round and clasped it, as the bolas of a South-AmericanIndian twine round the legs of a running animal, and the sudden jerk threw the boy down.

He was up again directly, and turned to run and untwist the line, but it was only to rush into the man’s arms, and be thrown, when with a foot upon his chest the fellow began to try and tear the line from his hands.

But Joe’s blood was up now, and he held on with all his might, turning himself over so as to get the reel beneath his chest.

“Gwyn! Gwyn! Help!” he shouted.

“All right!” came from behind him, and his comrade, who had been in pursuit, pitched heavily on to the man’s back, when a trio in struggling commenced, the boys holding on with stubborn determination, and their enemy beginning to strike out savagely with fist and elbow.

It was only a question of minutes, and then the boys would have been completely mastered. In fact, it had reached the pitch when the man had them both at his mercy and was kneeling between them, holding each by the throat, and forcing them back on the heather, when there was a loud whistle, the sound of a heavy blow, and the fellow uttered a savage yell as he sprang up and turned upon a fresh adversary. Butwhish! crash! the sounds were repeated, followed by a savage shout, and the man beat a retreat.

For Colonel Pendarve had come panting up at the sight of the struggle, and, bringing to bear his old cavalry officer’s skill, delivered three slashing sabre cuts with his heavy cane, the first from the right, the second from the left shoulder, putting the enemy thoroughly to rout. For the man left the trophies of the fight in the boys’ hands, made for the road, and disappeared over the wall.

Chapter Twelve.The Major has Strange Symptoms.“Whatever is the meaning of all this?” panted the Colonel, as Major Jollivet came up more slowly, looking weak and pale, but urged on by his excitement, to their side.Gwyn blurted out something incoherent, for he was too much exhausted to speak plainly, and stared confusedly at his father.“What?” cried the latter; “I can’t understand you. Here, Joe Jollivet, what have you to say?”“Blurr—blurr—bline!” babbled Joe.“Splendid cuts, Pendarve. The grand old form,” panted Major Jollivet. “You—you—you—sent—sent—the blood—der—der—dancing through—in—my veins.”“Yes, I flatter myself, he had them home,” said the Colonel, smiling with satisfaction. “Regular old pursuing practice. Lucky for him it was not the steel. But what is it all about? Who is the fellow? Was he trying to rob you?”“No—you, father,” stuttered Gwyn. “C–caught him—mum—measuring the mine. Took away—his line.”“What? You boys did?”Joe nodded, still too breathless to speak, and not feeling disposed to utter incoherent sounds again.“Yes—father—Joe’s got it.”“Ha! ha! ha!” laughed the Colonel. “It seems to me that you’ve both got it. Do you know that your nose is bleeding, sir?”Gwyn gave that organ the aboriginal wipe, drawing the back of his hand across his face, looked at it and saw that it was covered with blood.“No—didn’t know, father,” he said, taking out his handkerchief now. “Yes, it does bleed.”“Bleed, yes! Why, you have had a regular fight, then?”“Running fight, seemingly,” said the Major, grimly. “Tut—tut—tut! What a disreputable pair of young blackguards they look.”“Never mind,” said the Colonel, suavely. “They did quite right to attack the enemy, even if he was in greater force. But I don’t quite understand it, Gwyn. Did he say he was measuring the mine?”“No, father; but we saw him doing it.”“But how could he know anything about it? The man was a stranger to me.”“I never saw him before, father?”“Humph!” ejaculated the Colonel, turning to the Major, “I’m glad I brought you out to have a look. Pretty good proof that someone believes the old mine to be valuable, eh?”“Yes, or a trick to make it seem so.”“Pooh! Impossible! It might be if someone wanted to sell the mine; but it is not for sale, and not likely to be. So you found him measuring—sounding, I suppose you mean?”“Yes, sir,” said Joe. “Here’s the line, and it seems to have knots in it to show the depth.”For the boy was busily reeling up the loose cord, and walking back toward where the leaden weight had twined it round the piece of granite.Joe set this free, and it proved to be a regular fishing sinker.“But what did the fellow say to give you an excuse for attacking him as you did?”“Said he was fishing, father,” replied Gwyn; “but that was only his insolence.”“Might have been stupid enough to think he could fish there,” said the Major.“No; he meant to find out something about the place. It is being talked about the—”“Yes, a good deal,” said the Major, significantly. “Well, as you have brought me here to see it, you may as well show me the hole.”By this time the line was all wound up, and the Colonel led the way back to the mine, where, just as they reached the rough stone-wall, Gwyn ran forward and picked up a common memorandum book, which had fallen, to lie half-hidden amongst the heath.A roughly pointed lead pencil was between the leaves, which opened to show that the owner had been making notes; but that he was not accustomed to the work was evident from the spelling, the first entry reading as follows:—“Dounter warter 30 fathom.”The second,—“Dounter botm 49 fathom an narf.”The third entry was,—“Lot warter in thole as mus be pumpt out.”Then came a series of hieroglyphics which puzzled Gwyn; and, after a long trial, he handed the book to his father, who looked at it for some time, and then shook his head, as he passed it to the Major.“I’m not scholar enough for this, Jollivet,” he said. “Will you have a try?”“No; I haven’t brought my glasses. Here, Joe, what does this say?”Joe, who had been all eagerness to begin, caught at the book, and tried to decipher the roughly-written words, but got on no better than the rest.“Let me try again,” cried Gwyn.“No, no; I haven’t done yet,” said Joe; “but it looks all rubbish. No one can make this out.”“Spell it over,” said his father, and the boy began.“H-o-r-s-i-m-s-p-o-o-t-e-t-y-de-b-i-t-h-e-t-o-p-e.”“What does that spell? It’s all one word.”“Read it again,” said Gwyn, excitedly; and Joe repeated the letters.“I know. Can’t you see?” cried Gwyn, laughing.Joe shook his head, and the two old officers looked nonplussed.“What is it, Gwyn?” said his father. “Speak out, if you know.”“Ore seems pretty tidy by the top.”“No; nonsense!” cried the Colonel.“It is, father,” said Gwyn. “You read it over again, Joe.”The letters were once more repeated, and the Major exclaimed,—“That’s it, sure enough.”“Then there must be something in it,” cried Colonel Pendarve. “The place is being talked about, and this fellow, who is evidently experienced in such matters, has been sent on to act as a spy. But how does he know about the depth?”“Line’s all knotted in six-feet lengths, sir,” said Joe.“Then I’m much obliged to him for taking the measures; but let’s try for ourselves. You would like to see the depth tried, Jollivet.”“I? No, certainly not. Why should I?” cried the Major, testily.“Because I presume you will take some interest in seeing me succeed if I go on with the venture.”“Oh! Well, yes, of course. Going to try now?”“I am,” replied the Colonel. “Will you boys let down the leaden sinker? Be careful, mind. Will you hold the reel, Joe? and then Gwyn can count the knots as the line runs down.”“All right, sir,” cried Joe; and the Major took his place by the wall to look on while, after stationing themselves, Gwyn counted three knots, so as to get a little loose line, then took tight hold and pitched the lead from him, letting the stout cord run between his finger and thumb, and counting aloud as it went down, stopping at thirty by tightening his grasp on the line.“He’s wrong, father; thirty fathoms, and there’s no water yet.”“Try a little lower, boy.”The line began to run again, and there was a faint plash before half of another fathom had been reeled off.“Not so very far out,” said the Major, as Gwyn went on counting and the reel turned steadily on, Joe turning one finger into a brake, and checking the spool so that it would not give out the line too fast.On went the counting, the words coming mechanically from Gwyn’s lips as he thought all the while about his terrible fall, and wondered how deep down he had gone beneath the black water.“Forty-seven—forty-eight—forty-nine—fifty,” counted Gwyn.“Bottom?” cried the Colonel.“No, father; he must have let it catch on some ledge or piece that stuck out. Look, the lead’s going steadily on. He said forty-nine: I’ve counted fifty, and there it goes—fifty-one—fifty-two,” and to the surprise of all, the line ran out till another twenty fathoms had passed off the reel.“Seventy fathoms, father. That’s bottom,” said Gwyn, hauling up and letting the line run again with the same result.“Hah, yes,” said the Colonel; “and that means so many thousand gallons more water to be pumped out. But try again. Jerk the lead, and let it shoot down. Perhaps you have not quite sounded the bottom yet.”Gwyn obeyed, and the result was again the same.“Seventy fathoms. Well, that is not deep compared to some of the mines; but it proves that there must have been profitable work going on for the people, whoever they were, to have gone on cutting through the hard stone. A tremendous task, Jollivet.”“Hang it, yes, I suppose so. Well, there is nothing more to be done or seen, is there?”“Not at present. Only to reel up the line our visitor has been so obliging as to lend us.”“Wind away, Joe,” cried Gwyn; “and I’ll let the string pass through my fingers, so as to wring off some of the water.”The boys began to gather in the sounding-cord, and the Major stood peering down over the wall into the black depths and poking at a loose stone on the top of the wall with his cane.“Seems rather childish,” he said suddenly; “but should you mind, Pendarve, if I dislodged this stone and let it fall down the shaft?”“Mind? Certainly not. Go on. Here, shall I do it?”“No. I should prefer doing it myself,” said the Major; and standing his cane against the wall, he took hold of the stone and stood it upon the edge.“Stop!” cried the Colonel as he noted that the under part of the stone glistened, as granite will.“What’s the matter?”“That piece of stone,” said the Colonel, excitedly. “Why, man, look; it is rich in tin ore.”“That blackish-purple glittering stuff?”“Yes; those are tin grains. But there, it does not matter. Throw it in. We can have it sent up again when the mine is pumped out. In with it.”The Major raised the stone with both hands face high and threw it from him, while all watched him, and then stood waiting for the heavy hollow-sounding splash which followed, with the lapping of the water against the sides.“It is strange,” said the Major, “what a peculiar fascination a place like this exercises over me, Pendarve. I feel just as if I could leap down into—”As he spoke, he leaned over the low wall as if drawn toward the place, and his son turned ghastly white and uttered a faint cry.

“Whatever is the meaning of all this?” panted the Colonel, as Major Jollivet came up more slowly, looking weak and pale, but urged on by his excitement, to their side.

Gwyn blurted out something incoherent, for he was too much exhausted to speak plainly, and stared confusedly at his father.

“What?” cried the latter; “I can’t understand you. Here, Joe Jollivet, what have you to say?”

“Blurr—blurr—bline!” babbled Joe.

“Splendid cuts, Pendarve. The grand old form,” panted Major Jollivet. “You—you—you—sent—sent—the blood—der—der—dancing through—in—my veins.”

“Yes, I flatter myself, he had them home,” said the Colonel, smiling with satisfaction. “Regular old pursuing practice. Lucky for him it was not the steel. But what is it all about? Who is the fellow? Was he trying to rob you?”

“No—you, father,” stuttered Gwyn. “C–caught him—mum—measuring the mine. Took away—his line.”

“What? You boys did?”

Joe nodded, still too breathless to speak, and not feeling disposed to utter incoherent sounds again.

“Yes—father—Joe’s got it.”

“Ha! ha! ha!” laughed the Colonel. “It seems to me that you’ve both got it. Do you know that your nose is bleeding, sir?”

Gwyn gave that organ the aboriginal wipe, drawing the back of his hand across his face, looked at it and saw that it was covered with blood.

“No—didn’t know, father,” he said, taking out his handkerchief now. “Yes, it does bleed.”

“Bleed, yes! Why, you have had a regular fight, then?”

“Running fight, seemingly,” said the Major, grimly. “Tut—tut—tut! What a disreputable pair of young blackguards they look.”

“Never mind,” said the Colonel, suavely. “They did quite right to attack the enemy, even if he was in greater force. But I don’t quite understand it, Gwyn. Did he say he was measuring the mine?”

“No, father; but we saw him doing it.”

“But how could he know anything about it? The man was a stranger to me.”

“I never saw him before, father?”

“Humph!” ejaculated the Colonel, turning to the Major, “I’m glad I brought you out to have a look. Pretty good proof that someone believes the old mine to be valuable, eh?”

“Yes, or a trick to make it seem so.”

“Pooh! Impossible! It might be if someone wanted to sell the mine; but it is not for sale, and not likely to be. So you found him measuring—sounding, I suppose you mean?”

“Yes, sir,” said Joe. “Here’s the line, and it seems to have knots in it to show the depth.”

For the boy was busily reeling up the loose cord, and walking back toward where the leaden weight had twined it round the piece of granite.

Joe set this free, and it proved to be a regular fishing sinker.

“But what did the fellow say to give you an excuse for attacking him as you did?”

“Said he was fishing, father,” replied Gwyn; “but that was only his insolence.”

“Might have been stupid enough to think he could fish there,” said the Major.

“No; he meant to find out something about the place. It is being talked about the—”

“Yes, a good deal,” said the Major, significantly. “Well, as you have brought me here to see it, you may as well show me the hole.”

By this time the line was all wound up, and the Colonel led the way back to the mine, where, just as they reached the rough stone-wall, Gwyn ran forward and picked up a common memorandum book, which had fallen, to lie half-hidden amongst the heath.

A roughly pointed lead pencil was between the leaves, which opened to show that the owner had been making notes; but that he was not accustomed to the work was evident from the spelling, the first entry reading as follows:—

“Dounter warter 30 fathom.”

The second,—

“Dounter botm 49 fathom an narf.”

The third entry was,—

“Lot warter in thole as mus be pumpt out.”

Then came a series of hieroglyphics which puzzled Gwyn; and, after a long trial, he handed the book to his father, who looked at it for some time, and then shook his head, as he passed it to the Major.

“I’m not scholar enough for this, Jollivet,” he said. “Will you have a try?”

“No; I haven’t brought my glasses. Here, Joe, what does this say?”

Joe, who had been all eagerness to begin, caught at the book, and tried to decipher the roughly-written words, but got on no better than the rest.

“Let me try again,” cried Gwyn.

“No, no; I haven’t done yet,” said Joe; “but it looks all rubbish. No one can make this out.”

“Spell it over,” said his father, and the boy began.

“H-o-r-s-i-m-s-p-o-o-t-e-t-y-de-b-i-t-h-e-t-o-p-e.”

“What does that spell? It’s all one word.”

“Read it again,” said Gwyn, excitedly; and Joe repeated the letters.

“I know. Can’t you see?” cried Gwyn, laughing.

Joe shook his head, and the two old officers looked nonplussed.

“What is it, Gwyn?” said his father. “Speak out, if you know.”

“Ore seems pretty tidy by the top.”

“No; nonsense!” cried the Colonel.

“It is, father,” said Gwyn. “You read it over again, Joe.”

The letters were once more repeated, and the Major exclaimed,—

“That’s it, sure enough.”

“Then there must be something in it,” cried Colonel Pendarve. “The place is being talked about, and this fellow, who is evidently experienced in such matters, has been sent on to act as a spy. But how does he know about the depth?”

“Line’s all knotted in six-feet lengths, sir,” said Joe.

“Then I’m much obliged to him for taking the measures; but let’s try for ourselves. You would like to see the depth tried, Jollivet.”

“I? No, certainly not. Why should I?” cried the Major, testily.

“Because I presume you will take some interest in seeing me succeed if I go on with the venture.”

“Oh! Well, yes, of course. Going to try now?”

“I am,” replied the Colonel. “Will you boys let down the leaden sinker? Be careful, mind. Will you hold the reel, Joe? and then Gwyn can count the knots as the line runs down.”

“All right, sir,” cried Joe; and the Major took his place by the wall to look on while, after stationing themselves, Gwyn counted three knots, so as to get a little loose line, then took tight hold and pitched the lead from him, letting the stout cord run between his finger and thumb, and counting aloud as it went down, stopping at thirty by tightening his grasp on the line.

“He’s wrong, father; thirty fathoms, and there’s no water yet.”

“Try a little lower, boy.”

The line began to run again, and there was a faint plash before half of another fathom had been reeled off.

“Not so very far out,” said the Major, as Gwyn went on counting and the reel turned steadily on, Joe turning one finger into a brake, and checking the spool so that it would not give out the line too fast.

On went the counting, the words coming mechanically from Gwyn’s lips as he thought all the while about his terrible fall, and wondered how deep down he had gone beneath the black water.

“Forty-seven—forty-eight—forty-nine—fifty,” counted Gwyn.

“Bottom?” cried the Colonel.

“No, father; he must have let it catch on some ledge or piece that stuck out. Look, the lead’s going steadily on. He said forty-nine: I’ve counted fifty, and there it goes—fifty-one—fifty-two,” and to the surprise of all, the line ran out till another twenty fathoms had passed off the reel.

“Seventy fathoms, father. That’s bottom,” said Gwyn, hauling up and letting the line run again with the same result.

“Hah, yes,” said the Colonel; “and that means so many thousand gallons more water to be pumped out. But try again. Jerk the lead, and let it shoot down. Perhaps you have not quite sounded the bottom yet.”

Gwyn obeyed, and the result was again the same.

“Seventy fathoms. Well, that is not deep compared to some of the mines; but it proves that there must have been profitable work going on for the people, whoever they were, to have gone on cutting through the hard stone. A tremendous task, Jollivet.”

“Hang it, yes, I suppose so. Well, there is nothing more to be done or seen, is there?”

“Not at present. Only to reel up the line our visitor has been so obliging as to lend us.”

“Wind away, Joe,” cried Gwyn; “and I’ll let the string pass through my fingers, so as to wring off some of the water.”

The boys began to gather in the sounding-cord, and the Major stood peering down over the wall into the black depths and poking at a loose stone on the top of the wall with his cane.

“Seems rather childish,” he said suddenly; “but should you mind, Pendarve, if I dislodged this stone and let it fall down the shaft?”

“Mind? Certainly not. Go on. Here, shall I do it?”

“No. I should prefer doing it myself,” said the Major; and standing his cane against the wall, he took hold of the stone and stood it upon the edge.

“Stop!” cried the Colonel as he noted that the under part of the stone glistened, as granite will.

“What’s the matter?”

“That piece of stone,” said the Colonel, excitedly. “Why, man, look; it is rich in tin ore.”

“That blackish-purple glittering stuff?”

“Yes; those are tin grains. But there, it does not matter. Throw it in. We can have it sent up again when the mine is pumped out. In with it.”

The Major raised the stone with both hands face high and threw it from him, while all watched him, and then stood waiting for the heavy hollow-sounding splash which followed, with the lapping of the water against the sides.

“It is strange,” said the Major, “what a peculiar fascination a place like this exercises over me, Pendarve. I feel just as if I could leap down into—”

As he spoke, he leaned over the low wall as if drawn toward the place, and his son turned ghastly white and uttered a faint cry.

Chapter Thirteen.The Compact Sealed.“No, no, my boy, don’t be alarmed,” said the Major, turning to smile at his son. “It is only that I am a little nervous and impressionable from my illness. But it is strange how a depth attracts, and how necessary it is for boys to be careful and master themselves when tempted to do things that are risky. Upon my word, I marvel at the daring of you fellows in running such a risk as you did the other day.”“It was not Joe, sir,” interposed Gwyn. “I went down.”“But I’ll be bound to say my boy was ready to offer.”The pair of actors in the trouble glanced at each other, and Joe’s cheeks grew red again.“Take my advice,” said the Major, “as boy or man never do anything risky unless it is for some good reason. One has no right to go into danger unless it is as an act of duty.”“Quite right,” said the Colonel; “that’s what I tell Gwyn; but boys have such terribly short memories. There, we may as well go back; but you had better wash your face at the first pool, Gwyn. You look horrible. I can’t have you go home in that condition.”“No; he would frighten Mrs Pendarve out of her senses,” said the Major. “Well, I’ve seen the wonderful mine, and it looks just like what it is: a big square hole, with plenty of room to throw down money enough to ruin the Queen. But you were right, Pendarve: the fresh air and the exertion have done me good. I must go back, though, now; the fever makes me weak.”That evening the Colonel had a long talk with his son, for he had come to the conclusion that they had not heard the end of the man’s visit to the mine.“It seems to me, Gwyn,” he said, “that something must have been known about the place and caused this amateurish kind of inspection.”“I’ve been thinking so, too, father,” said Gwyn. “Sam Hardock must have been talking about it to different people, and praised it so that someone wants to begin mining.”They had come to the right conclusion, for the very next day a dog-cart was driven to the Cove, stopped at the Colonel’s gate, and a little fussy-looking gentleman, with sharp eyes, a snub nose, and grey hair, which seemed to have a habit of standing out in pointed tufts, came up to the door, knocked, and sent in his card.“Mr Lester Dix, solicitor, Plymouth,” said the Colonel, reading the card, as he and Gwyn were busy over a work on military manoeuvres. “I don’t know any Mr Dix. Show him in.”“Shall I go, father?”“No, I think not, my boy. I don’t suppose it is anything important, unless it is someone come to claim damages for the assault you committed on the man at the mine, and for confiscating the reel and line.”“Oh, it would not be that, would it, father?” cried Gwyn, anxiously. “And besides—”“He began it, eh? Well, we shall see. You had better stay.”The visitor was shown it, and entered with so smiling a countenance that at first Gwyn felt better; but a suspicion came over him directly after that the smile might mean a masking of the real attack.For Gwyn’s education was growing decidedly military, his father devoting a great deal of time to reading works on fortification and army matters.But he was soon set at rest, for, after a few preliminary words of apology for the call, with some remarks on the fineness of the morning, and the pleasant drive over from the station, the visitor plunged at once into the object of his visit.“The fact is, Colonel Pendarve, my professional business lies a great deal with mining companies, and one of those for whom I act have been for some time looking out for a spot here on the west coast, where they could exploit, so to speak, the land, and try with the newer machinery some of the old neglected workings. Now, I am instructed that you have on your estate one of these disused mines, and my company, for whom I act, are willing to run the risk of trying if anything can be made of it with the modern appliances. You see I am quite frank with you, sir. In other words, they are desirous of becoming the purchasers of your little estate here at a good advance upon the sum for which you purchased it.”“Indeed?” said the Colonel, smiling.“Yes, sir; and I will not conceal from you the fact that they will be quite willing to agree to what would really be a most advantageous thing for you.”“Then the old mine must be very valuable,” said Gwyn, excitedly.“Eh?” ejaculated the visitor, turning his eyes sharply upon the boy. “Oh dear me, no, my dear young friend. That does not follow. It might turn out to be, of course; but mining is a terribly speculative, risky business, and the probabilities are that this mine—let me see, Ydoll, I think, is the old name, and eh, young gentleman, not badly named? Been lying idle for a very long time, I suppose? Eh? You’ll excuse the joke. We may lose very heavily in this one, while we gain on others. But, of course, Colonel Pendarve, that is not my affair. My instructions, to be brief, are to ascertain whether you will sell, and, if you will take a reasonable price, to close with you at once.”“I wish father would ask him how he knows about the mine,” thought Gwyn.“May I ask how you became aware of the existence of this place, sir?” asked the Colonel.“Maps and plans, sir. I have pretty well every property marked out all through the country; picturesque and geological features all set down. Quite a study, young gentleman. You have a nice place here Colonel Pendarve, but you must find it bleak, and I think I may venture to say this is an opportunity for parting with it most profitably.”“I suppose so, sir,” said the Colonel, “for your clients would not be, I presume, particular about a few hundreds to obtain possession?”“Well,” replied the lawyer, smiling, “without committing myself, I think I may say that your wishes within reason would be met, sir, upon pecuniary points.”“Well that sounds satisfactory,” said the Colonel, “but I have grown attached to the place, and so has my son.”“Oh, yes, father,” said Gwyn, eagerly. “I don’t want to go.”“Plenty of more beautiful places to be had, my dear sir,” said the lawyer, “by the man who has money.”“I have improved the house, too, a great deal lately.”“So I should suppose, sir,” said the lawyer; “but we should consider all that in the purchase money.”“And I have made my little garden one of the most productive in the county.”“All of which we will take into consideration, my dear sir. Now, not to take up your time, what do you say? I have a plan in my pocket of the estate, and I am quite prepared to come to terms at once.”“But is not this very sudden?” said the Colonel, smiling.“Well, perhaps so, my dear sir; but I always advise the companies who intrust me with their affairs to be business-like and prompt. Let us have none of the law’s delays, my dear sir, I say. It means waste of time; and as time is money, it is a waste of hard cash. Now, sir, you, as a military man, know the value of decision.”“I hope so,” said the Colonel, who looked amused.“Well, in plain English, sir, will you sell?”“In plain English, Mr Dix,” said the Colonel, promptly, “‘No.’”“Take time, my dear sir, take time,” said the lawyer. “Don’t, let me implore you, throw away a good chance. Name your terms.”“I have no terms to propose, sir. I like my house here, and I shall not part with it at any price.—Yes, Dolly? What is it?”For the maid had tapped and entered, looking very round-eyed and surprised.“Another gentleman to see you, sir.”“Indeed? You will not mind, Mr Dix?”“Oh, by no means, my dear sir. But one moment, please. Why not close with my proposal? Come, my dear sir, to be plain, I will take the place at your own terms.”“You will not take the place at any terms, sir,” said the Colonel, decisively. “Dolly, show the other gentleman in. But did he give you his card?”“No, sir; said he’d like to speak to you himself.”“Show him in, then.”“Hah!” ejaculated the lawyer; “but you will alter your mind, Colonel Pendarve?”“I hope not.”“But if you do, you will give me the first offer?”“I will make no promises, sir,” replied the Colonel.At that moment a reddish-haired, sour-looking man was shown in, and he nodded shortly to the lawyer.“You here?” he said.“Yes, my dear Brownson, I am here. Business, my dear sir, business. You really do not mean to say that you have come on the same mission as I.”“I beg pardon, Colonel Pendarve,” said the fresh visitor. “I was not aware that Mr Dix here proposed visiting you. Can I have the pleasure of a few words on business of great importance?”“Certainly,” said the Colonel, who now looked very much amused; “but may I ask if it is concerning the purchase of the mine?”“To be frank, sir, yes, it is. On the behalf of a client, but—but you don’t mean that I am too late?”There was a look of misery in the newcomer’s face that was comical, and before the Colonel could speak, he went on:—“Don’t be rash, sir, pray don’t be rash. You cannot have closed yet, and I am here prepared, not merely to negotiate, but to come to the most advantageous terms for you.”Mr Dix chuckled, rubbed his hands, and gave the newcomer a look which seemed to sting him to the core.“I need hardly say, gentlemen,” said the Colonel, “that this visit has taken me quite by surprise. I did not expect these sudden offers from what seem to me to be rival companies.”“Hardly rival companies, sir; but I must say that Mr Dix has taken a very unfair advantage of me, after we had agreed to a truce.”“Yes, one which I knew you would break, Brownson,” said Dix; “and so I came on first. Now, Colonel Pendarve you will come to terms with me.”“No, sir,” said the Colonel, fiercely, “nor with your friend here. My mind is quite made up. I do not know to which party the visit of a spy is due, but you may take these words as final; I shall certainly not sell this little estate to either of you, nor,” he added, after a pause, “to anyone else. What, another?” he cried, as Dolly re-appeared at the door.“No, sir, it’s only Major Jollivet, sir. But he says, if you’re engaged, he’ll call again.”“Show him in,” cried the Colonel. “Ah, there he goes. Call him back, Gwyn.”The boy flew to the window, and, in answer to his call, the Major came back, and entered.“Oh, I didn’t wish to interrupt you, Pendarve, but I wanted to have a few words with you on business. Eh? Yes. Very much better. I shall be all right for a few months now.”“Let me introduce you,” said the Colonel. “This is Mr Dix, solicitor, of Plymouth, and Mr Brownson, also a solicitor, I presume, of the same town. My old friend and brother officer, Major Jollivet.”Bows were exchanged, and the visitors scowled at each other.“Jollivet, these two gentlemen, who represent different companies as clients, have come over to make me a very advantageous offer for this little estate.”“Indeed!” said the Major, starting. “What for?”“They wish to reopen the mine, and are ready to give me my own price.”“Certainly,” said Mr Dix.“Yes, certainly,” said Mr Brownson, “with, gentlemen, the addition of a royalty on our part on all the metal smelted. Come, Dix, that’s trumps.”“Yes, sir, but this is the ace. Colonel Pendarve, I will guarantee you double the royalty Mr Brownson offers,” said Dix.“Come, that’s business, gentlemen,” said the Colonel, smiling, while Gwyn’s face was scarlet with excitement. “Now, Jollivet, as the man whom I always consult on business matters, and irrespective of anything I may have said to these gentlemen, what would you advise me to do?”“Ah,” exclaimed Mr Dix, rubbing his hands, “what would you advise him to do, General?”“Major, sir, Major,” said the old officer, shortly.“Yes, Major Jollivet,” said Mr Brownson, “what would you advise him to do? Surely to take our fair and liberal offer. We are very old established, and shall carry that old mine to a triumphant success. What would you advise?”“Oh, Major Jollivet, don’t advise him to sell,” whispered Gwyn.“Silence, sir! How dah you interfere!” cried the Major. “Pendarve, if this boy speaks again, send him away.”“Oh, he will not hurt,” said the Colonel. “Now, what do you say?”“Ahem!” coughed the Major, and then he took out an India bandanna silk handkerchief, and blew his nose with a blast like that of a trumpet heralding a charge. “I say, gentlemen, that my old friend, Colonel Pendarve, and I, are very much obliged to you for your offer, which is one that we refuse without the smallest hesitation.”“I will increase my offer, gentlemen; I did not know that Colonel Pendarve had a partner,” said Mr Dix.“I will double mine, gentlemen,” cried Brownson.“Gwyn,” said the Colonel. “Never mind the licence; you had better jump on the table and play auctioneer.”“By all means,” cried Dix, “and knock it down to the highest bidder.”“No!” roared the Major. “Keep your place, boy. Out of the question. The mine is not for sale. Colonel Pendarve and I are going to carry it on ourselves.”“What!” cried the two lawyers in a breath.“Jollivet and Pendarve of the Ydoll Mine,” cried the Colonel, excitedly.“That’s it, the other way on,” said the Major. “Your own proposal; do you hold to it? I came to ask you if you would, before I knew these people were here. Now, then, what do you say?”“Jollivet and Pendarve.”“Pendarve and Jollivet, or I won’t play,” cried the Major.“As you wish,” said the Colonel, “There’s my hand and seal.”“And mine,” cried the Major, seizing the hand extended to him.“Don’t, don’t say that, gentlemen,” cried Dix, wildly, “It may mean ruin to you both.”“And destruction,” cried Brownson.“Very well,” said the Major. “We’re old soldiers, we’ll face all as we’ve often faced death. Pen, old man, for the sake of the boys.”“For the sake of the boys,” cried the Colonel.And the next minute the two mining companies’ agents were bowed out, while Gwyn leaped on a chair to shout “hurrah!” just as the French window was darkened, and a voice cried,—“Is father here?”Joe was not long before he heard the news.

“No, no, my boy, don’t be alarmed,” said the Major, turning to smile at his son. “It is only that I am a little nervous and impressionable from my illness. But it is strange how a depth attracts, and how necessary it is for boys to be careful and master themselves when tempted to do things that are risky. Upon my word, I marvel at the daring of you fellows in running such a risk as you did the other day.”

“It was not Joe, sir,” interposed Gwyn. “I went down.”

“But I’ll be bound to say my boy was ready to offer.”

The pair of actors in the trouble glanced at each other, and Joe’s cheeks grew red again.

“Take my advice,” said the Major, “as boy or man never do anything risky unless it is for some good reason. One has no right to go into danger unless it is as an act of duty.”

“Quite right,” said the Colonel; “that’s what I tell Gwyn; but boys have such terribly short memories. There, we may as well go back; but you had better wash your face at the first pool, Gwyn. You look horrible. I can’t have you go home in that condition.”

“No; he would frighten Mrs Pendarve out of her senses,” said the Major. “Well, I’ve seen the wonderful mine, and it looks just like what it is: a big square hole, with plenty of room to throw down money enough to ruin the Queen. But you were right, Pendarve: the fresh air and the exertion have done me good. I must go back, though, now; the fever makes me weak.”

That evening the Colonel had a long talk with his son, for he had come to the conclusion that they had not heard the end of the man’s visit to the mine.

“It seems to me, Gwyn,” he said, “that something must have been known about the place and caused this amateurish kind of inspection.”

“I’ve been thinking so, too, father,” said Gwyn. “Sam Hardock must have been talking about it to different people, and praised it so that someone wants to begin mining.”

They had come to the right conclusion, for the very next day a dog-cart was driven to the Cove, stopped at the Colonel’s gate, and a little fussy-looking gentleman, with sharp eyes, a snub nose, and grey hair, which seemed to have a habit of standing out in pointed tufts, came up to the door, knocked, and sent in his card.

“Mr Lester Dix, solicitor, Plymouth,” said the Colonel, reading the card, as he and Gwyn were busy over a work on military manoeuvres. “I don’t know any Mr Dix. Show him in.”

“Shall I go, father?”

“No, I think not, my boy. I don’t suppose it is anything important, unless it is someone come to claim damages for the assault you committed on the man at the mine, and for confiscating the reel and line.”

“Oh, it would not be that, would it, father?” cried Gwyn, anxiously. “And besides—”

“He began it, eh? Well, we shall see. You had better stay.”

The visitor was shown it, and entered with so smiling a countenance that at first Gwyn felt better; but a suspicion came over him directly after that the smile might mean a masking of the real attack.

For Gwyn’s education was growing decidedly military, his father devoting a great deal of time to reading works on fortification and army matters.

But he was soon set at rest, for, after a few preliminary words of apology for the call, with some remarks on the fineness of the morning, and the pleasant drive over from the station, the visitor plunged at once into the object of his visit.

“The fact is, Colonel Pendarve, my professional business lies a great deal with mining companies, and one of those for whom I act have been for some time looking out for a spot here on the west coast, where they could exploit, so to speak, the land, and try with the newer machinery some of the old neglected workings. Now, I am instructed that you have on your estate one of these disused mines, and my company, for whom I act, are willing to run the risk of trying if anything can be made of it with the modern appliances. You see I am quite frank with you, sir. In other words, they are desirous of becoming the purchasers of your little estate here at a good advance upon the sum for which you purchased it.”

“Indeed?” said the Colonel, smiling.

“Yes, sir; and I will not conceal from you the fact that they will be quite willing to agree to what would really be a most advantageous thing for you.”

“Then the old mine must be very valuable,” said Gwyn, excitedly.

“Eh?” ejaculated the visitor, turning his eyes sharply upon the boy. “Oh dear me, no, my dear young friend. That does not follow. It might turn out to be, of course; but mining is a terribly speculative, risky business, and the probabilities are that this mine—let me see, Ydoll, I think, is the old name, and eh, young gentleman, not badly named? Been lying idle for a very long time, I suppose? Eh? You’ll excuse the joke. We may lose very heavily in this one, while we gain on others. But, of course, Colonel Pendarve, that is not my affair. My instructions, to be brief, are to ascertain whether you will sell, and, if you will take a reasonable price, to close with you at once.”

“I wish father would ask him how he knows about the mine,” thought Gwyn.

“May I ask how you became aware of the existence of this place, sir?” asked the Colonel.

“Maps and plans, sir. I have pretty well every property marked out all through the country; picturesque and geological features all set down. Quite a study, young gentleman. You have a nice place here Colonel Pendarve, but you must find it bleak, and I think I may venture to say this is an opportunity for parting with it most profitably.”

“I suppose so, sir,” said the Colonel, “for your clients would not be, I presume, particular about a few hundreds to obtain possession?”

“Well,” replied the lawyer, smiling, “without committing myself, I think I may say that your wishes within reason would be met, sir, upon pecuniary points.”

“Well that sounds satisfactory,” said the Colonel, “but I have grown attached to the place, and so has my son.”

“Oh, yes, father,” said Gwyn, eagerly. “I don’t want to go.”

“Plenty of more beautiful places to be had, my dear sir,” said the lawyer, “by the man who has money.”

“I have improved the house, too, a great deal lately.”

“So I should suppose, sir,” said the lawyer; “but we should consider all that in the purchase money.”

“And I have made my little garden one of the most productive in the county.”

“All of which we will take into consideration, my dear sir. Now, not to take up your time, what do you say? I have a plan in my pocket of the estate, and I am quite prepared to come to terms at once.”

“But is not this very sudden?” said the Colonel, smiling.

“Well, perhaps so, my dear sir; but I always advise the companies who intrust me with their affairs to be business-like and prompt. Let us have none of the law’s delays, my dear sir, I say. It means waste of time; and as time is money, it is a waste of hard cash. Now, sir, you, as a military man, know the value of decision.”

“I hope so,” said the Colonel, who looked amused.

“Well, in plain English, sir, will you sell?”

“In plain English, Mr Dix,” said the Colonel, promptly, “‘No.’”

“Take time, my dear sir, take time,” said the lawyer. “Don’t, let me implore you, throw away a good chance. Name your terms.”

“I have no terms to propose, sir. I like my house here, and I shall not part with it at any price.—Yes, Dolly? What is it?”

For the maid had tapped and entered, looking very round-eyed and surprised.

“Another gentleman to see you, sir.”

“Indeed? You will not mind, Mr Dix?”

“Oh, by no means, my dear sir. But one moment, please. Why not close with my proposal? Come, my dear sir, to be plain, I will take the place at your own terms.”

“You will not take the place at any terms, sir,” said the Colonel, decisively. “Dolly, show the other gentleman in. But did he give you his card?”

“No, sir; said he’d like to speak to you himself.”

“Show him in, then.”

“Hah!” ejaculated the lawyer; “but you will alter your mind, Colonel Pendarve?”

“I hope not.”

“But if you do, you will give me the first offer?”

“I will make no promises, sir,” replied the Colonel.

At that moment a reddish-haired, sour-looking man was shown in, and he nodded shortly to the lawyer.

“You here?” he said.

“Yes, my dear Brownson, I am here. Business, my dear sir, business. You really do not mean to say that you have come on the same mission as I.”

“I beg pardon, Colonel Pendarve,” said the fresh visitor. “I was not aware that Mr Dix here proposed visiting you. Can I have the pleasure of a few words on business of great importance?”

“Certainly,” said the Colonel, who now looked very much amused; “but may I ask if it is concerning the purchase of the mine?”

“To be frank, sir, yes, it is. On the behalf of a client, but—but you don’t mean that I am too late?”

There was a look of misery in the newcomer’s face that was comical, and before the Colonel could speak, he went on:—

“Don’t be rash, sir, pray don’t be rash. You cannot have closed yet, and I am here prepared, not merely to negotiate, but to come to the most advantageous terms for you.”

Mr Dix chuckled, rubbed his hands, and gave the newcomer a look which seemed to sting him to the core.

“I need hardly say, gentlemen,” said the Colonel, “that this visit has taken me quite by surprise. I did not expect these sudden offers from what seem to me to be rival companies.”

“Hardly rival companies, sir; but I must say that Mr Dix has taken a very unfair advantage of me, after we had agreed to a truce.”

“Yes, one which I knew you would break, Brownson,” said Dix; “and so I came on first. Now, Colonel Pendarve you will come to terms with me.”

“No, sir,” said the Colonel, fiercely, “nor with your friend here. My mind is quite made up. I do not know to which party the visit of a spy is due, but you may take these words as final; I shall certainly not sell this little estate to either of you, nor,” he added, after a pause, “to anyone else. What, another?” he cried, as Dolly re-appeared at the door.

“No, sir, it’s only Major Jollivet, sir. But he says, if you’re engaged, he’ll call again.”

“Show him in,” cried the Colonel. “Ah, there he goes. Call him back, Gwyn.”

The boy flew to the window, and, in answer to his call, the Major came back, and entered.

“Oh, I didn’t wish to interrupt you, Pendarve, but I wanted to have a few words with you on business. Eh? Yes. Very much better. I shall be all right for a few months now.”

“Let me introduce you,” said the Colonel. “This is Mr Dix, solicitor, of Plymouth, and Mr Brownson, also a solicitor, I presume, of the same town. My old friend and brother officer, Major Jollivet.”

Bows were exchanged, and the visitors scowled at each other.

“Jollivet, these two gentlemen, who represent different companies as clients, have come over to make me a very advantageous offer for this little estate.”

“Indeed!” said the Major, starting. “What for?”

“They wish to reopen the mine, and are ready to give me my own price.”

“Certainly,” said Mr Dix.

“Yes, certainly,” said Mr Brownson, “with, gentlemen, the addition of a royalty on our part on all the metal smelted. Come, Dix, that’s trumps.”

“Yes, sir, but this is the ace. Colonel Pendarve, I will guarantee you double the royalty Mr Brownson offers,” said Dix.

“Come, that’s business, gentlemen,” said the Colonel, smiling, while Gwyn’s face was scarlet with excitement. “Now, Jollivet, as the man whom I always consult on business matters, and irrespective of anything I may have said to these gentlemen, what would you advise me to do?”

“Ah,” exclaimed Mr Dix, rubbing his hands, “what would you advise him to do, General?”

“Major, sir, Major,” said the old officer, shortly.

“Yes, Major Jollivet,” said Mr Brownson, “what would you advise him to do? Surely to take our fair and liberal offer. We are very old established, and shall carry that old mine to a triumphant success. What would you advise?”

“Oh, Major Jollivet, don’t advise him to sell,” whispered Gwyn.

“Silence, sir! How dah you interfere!” cried the Major. “Pendarve, if this boy speaks again, send him away.”

“Oh, he will not hurt,” said the Colonel. “Now, what do you say?”

“Ahem!” coughed the Major, and then he took out an India bandanna silk handkerchief, and blew his nose with a blast like that of a trumpet heralding a charge. “I say, gentlemen, that my old friend, Colonel Pendarve, and I, are very much obliged to you for your offer, which is one that we refuse without the smallest hesitation.”

“I will increase my offer, gentlemen; I did not know that Colonel Pendarve had a partner,” said Mr Dix.

“I will double mine, gentlemen,” cried Brownson.

“Gwyn,” said the Colonel. “Never mind the licence; you had better jump on the table and play auctioneer.”

“By all means,” cried Dix, “and knock it down to the highest bidder.”

“No!” roared the Major. “Keep your place, boy. Out of the question. The mine is not for sale. Colonel Pendarve and I are going to carry it on ourselves.”

“What!” cried the two lawyers in a breath.

“Jollivet and Pendarve of the Ydoll Mine,” cried the Colonel, excitedly.

“That’s it, the other way on,” said the Major. “Your own proposal; do you hold to it? I came to ask you if you would, before I knew these people were here. Now, then, what do you say?”

“Jollivet and Pendarve.”

“Pendarve and Jollivet, or I won’t play,” cried the Major.

“As you wish,” said the Colonel, “There’s my hand and seal.”

“And mine,” cried the Major, seizing the hand extended to him.

“Don’t, don’t say that, gentlemen,” cried Dix, wildly, “It may mean ruin to you both.”

“And destruction,” cried Brownson.

“Very well,” said the Major. “We’re old soldiers, we’ll face all as we’ve often faced death. Pen, old man, for the sake of the boys.”

“For the sake of the boys,” cried the Colonel.

And the next minute the two mining companies’ agents were bowed out, while Gwyn leaped on a chair to shout “hurrah!” just as the French window was darkened, and a voice cried,—

“Is father here?”

Joe was not long before he heard the news.

Chapter Fourteen.A Suspicion of Evil.The result of the morning’s work was that Sam Hardock received a message from the Colonel, delivered by Gwyn, and the man rubbed his hands gleefully.“I thought he couldn’t refuse such a chance,” cried Hardock. “It’s a big fortune for him.”“I hope so,” said Gwyn. “But how came those people at Plymouth to hear about it?”“I dunno, sir. But they got hold of the gashly news somehow.”“You did not send them word, of course?”“Me? Not I, sir.”“But how could that man have heard of it, and come over to sound the mine and examine the place?”“What man?” cried Hardock, anxiously.Gwyn explained, and, in answer to questions, the lad gave a pretty good description of his awkward adversary.Hardock struck his fist upon the table.“That’s the chap! I often wondered who he was. Been hanging about here these two months past.”“Then you did tell him.”“Me, Master Gwyn? Not a bit of it. I’m too close.”“Then you must have talked about it to other people, and he picked up what you said. But there, come along. He will not get it now.”“He must have been sent by someone out Plymouth way, that’s for certain, sir. But come along. I want to hear what the Colonel has to say.”“And the Major, too.”“Why, he’s not in it, sir, is he?”“Of course. He will be my father’s partner.”Hardock whistled, and was very silent all the way up to the house by Ydoll Cove.He was talkative enough, though, when he came away, but in a very mysterious fashion.“It’s all right, Mr Gwyn,” he whispered. “Going to be a very big thing. I mustn’t talk about it; but you’re like one of us, and I may tell you. I’m off to Truro this afternoon to talk to an old friend of mine—engineer, and a very big man on working mines. He’ll advise on the best kind of pump to have.”The engineer came, examined the shaft, gave his opinions, and in a week’s time masons were at work setting up an engine-house, ready for the steam machinery that was to come round by ship from Liverpool; and in a short time the wild slope at the top of the great cliffs was invaded by quite a colony of workmen. The masons’ hammers were constantly chipping as they laboriously went on building and raising a platform above the mouth of the shaft, while, whenever a few rich pieces of ore, after possibly lying there many hundred years, were turned up, they were solemnly conveyed to the two old officers for examination.Here the two boys were soon in their element, and began working away with a great deal of enthusiasm in a small, corrugated iron shed which had been erected in the garden, and dignified by the name of laboratory. For, to the boys’ great delight, a model furnace had been made, with bellows, and a supply of charcoal was always ready. There was a great cast-iron mortar fitted on a concrete stand, crucibles of various sizes, and the place looked quite ship-shape.Both the old officers worked hard at assaying the ore brought from about the mouth of the pit, dug no one knew when, and though they spent a good deal of time, they were very soon superseded by Gwyn and Joe. Hardock gave them a little instruction; everything about the work was interesting and fresh; and in a few weeks they were able to roughly declare how much pure metal could be obtained from a ton of the quartz which they broke up in the great mortar, powdering, and washing and drying, and then smelting in one of the plumbago crucibles of the laboratory.“There’s no telling yet what we may find in that mine, Joe,” said Gwyn; “only we don’t know enough chemistry to find out.”“It’s metallurgy, father says,” said Joe, correcting him.“Never mind; it’s chemistry all the same; and we must read more about it, and try experiments. Why, we might get gold and silver.”“What, out of a tin mine?” said Joe, derisively.“Well, why not? I don’t know about the gold, but we may, perhaps. Sam Hardock said there were some specks in one bit of quartz he brought up.”“But we shouldn’t want specks; we should want lumps.”“There’s sure to be silver.”“Why?” said Joe.“Because there’s lead, and I was reading with father about how much silver you can get by purifying the lead. It’s going to be a wonderful business.”“Hope so,” said Joe; “but they’re a precious long while getting the machinery together, and my father says the cost is awful.”“Can’t get a great pump in a mine ready to work like you can one in a back kitchen,” said Gwyn. “See what an awkward job it is fitting the platforms for the tubing. I think they’re doing wonders, seeing what a lot there is to get ready. Sam says, though, that he believes they’ll begin pumping next month.”But next month came round, and they did not begin pumping, for the simple reason that the machinery was not ready. Still it was in fair progress, and an arrangement was fixed so that, when the beam began to rise and fall, the water would be sent gushing into the adit by which Gwyn had made his escape on that adventurous day; and as this little gully had a gentle slope towards the sea, the water would be easily got rid of by its own natural flow.The boys were at the mouth of the shaft on one particular day, and as the news had been spread that the first steps for drying the mine were to be taken, half the people from the little village had sauntered up, many of them being fisherfolk, and plenty of solemn conversation went on, more than one weather-beaten old sage giving it as his opinion that no good would come of it, for there was something wicked and queer about this old mine, and they all opined that it ought not to have been touched.Gwyn noticed the head-shakings, and nudged Joe.“Talking about the goblins in the mine,” he answered. “I say, if there are any, they’ll come rushing up the big tube like the tadpoles did in the garden pump when it was first made.”Just then Joe caught hold of his companion’s arm, and pinched it.“Hullo!” cried Gwyn.“Hush! don’t talk—don’t look till I tell you which way. I’ve just seen him.”“Seen whom?” said Gwyn, wonderingly.“That big chap who was measuring the pit. He’s over yonder with about a dozen more men. What does it mean?”“Mischief,” said Gwyn, huskily. “Quick! Let’s go and warn my father.”“What about? He may only have come up to see.”“I don’t know,” said Gwyn, excitedly. “Someone who wanted to get the mine must have sent them up first of all, and, as they couldn’t get it, I’m afraid they’ve turned spiteful, and may try to do us harm. What would they do, do you think?”“Try and damage the machinery, perhaps,” said Joe.“Yes, that’s it. We must warn father, and keep an eye on those fellows, or there’s no knowing what they may do. Where are they now?”“Can’t see them,” said Joe, after a glance round. “They must have gone.”“Yes, but where? Not to the engine-house, surely. Why, they might upset the whole thing, and do no end of mischief if they liked. Come on, and let’s make sure that they are not there, and then tell Sam Hardock to keep watch.”Joe had another look round the now thoroughly transformed place, with its engine-house, sheds, and scaffold and wheel over the built-up shaft, but he saw nothing, and said so. Still Gwyn was not satisfied, for a peculiar feeling of dread oppressed him.“It isn’t easy to see for the people and the buildings— Ah, there’s father; let’s go and tell him what we think.”It was quite time: for the hero of the measuring and another sour-looking fellow were making their way round to where the two boilers were beginning to be charged with steam, and what was worse for all concerned, no one paid any heed to their movements, which were furtive and strange, suggesting that they had not come for the purpose of doing good, while their opportunities for doing a serious ill were ample; but Gwyn had just grasped that fact.

The result of the morning’s work was that Sam Hardock received a message from the Colonel, delivered by Gwyn, and the man rubbed his hands gleefully.

“I thought he couldn’t refuse such a chance,” cried Hardock. “It’s a big fortune for him.”

“I hope so,” said Gwyn. “But how came those people at Plymouth to hear about it?”

“I dunno, sir. But they got hold of the gashly news somehow.”

“You did not send them word, of course?”

“Me? Not I, sir.”

“But how could that man have heard of it, and come over to sound the mine and examine the place?”

“What man?” cried Hardock, anxiously.

Gwyn explained, and, in answer to questions, the lad gave a pretty good description of his awkward adversary.

Hardock struck his fist upon the table.

“That’s the chap! I often wondered who he was. Been hanging about here these two months past.”

“Then you did tell him.”

“Me, Master Gwyn? Not a bit of it. I’m too close.”

“Then you must have talked about it to other people, and he picked up what you said. But there, come along. He will not get it now.”

“He must have been sent by someone out Plymouth way, that’s for certain, sir. But come along. I want to hear what the Colonel has to say.”

“And the Major, too.”

“Why, he’s not in it, sir, is he?”

“Of course. He will be my father’s partner.”

Hardock whistled, and was very silent all the way up to the house by Ydoll Cove.

He was talkative enough, though, when he came away, but in a very mysterious fashion.

“It’s all right, Mr Gwyn,” he whispered. “Going to be a very big thing. I mustn’t talk about it; but you’re like one of us, and I may tell you. I’m off to Truro this afternoon to talk to an old friend of mine—engineer, and a very big man on working mines. He’ll advise on the best kind of pump to have.”

The engineer came, examined the shaft, gave his opinions, and in a week’s time masons were at work setting up an engine-house, ready for the steam machinery that was to come round by ship from Liverpool; and in a short time the wild slope at the top of the great cliffs was invaded by quite a colony of workmen. The masons’ hammers were constantly chipping as they laboriously went on building and raising a platform above the mouth of the shaft, while, whenever a few rich pieces of ore, after possibly lying there many hundred years, were turned up, they were solemnly conveyed to the two old officers for examination.

Here the two boys were soon in their element, and began working away with a great deal of enthusiasm in a small, corrugated iron shed which had been erected in the garden, and dignified by the name of laboratory. For, to the boys’ great delight, a model furnace had been made, with bellows, and a supply of charcoal was always ready. There was a great cast-iron mortar fitted on a concrete stand, crucibles of various sizes, and the place looked quite ship-shape.

Both the old officers worked hard at assaying the ore brought from about the mouth of the pit, dug no one knew when, and though they spent a good deal of time, they were very soon superseded by Gwyn and Joe. Hardock gave them a little instruction; everything about the work was interesting and fresh; and in a few weeks they were able to roughly declare how much pure metal could be obtained from a ton of the quartz which they broke up in the great mortar, powdering, and washing and drying, and then smelting in one of the plumbago crucibles of the laboratory.

“There’s no telling yet what we may find in that mine, Joe,” said Gwyn; “only we don’t know enough chemistry to find out.”

“It’s metallurgy, father says,” said Joe, correcting him.

“Never mind; it’s chemistry all the same; and we must read more about it, and try experiments. Why, we might get gold and silver.”

“What, out of a tin mine?” said Joe, derisively.

“Well, why not? I don’t know about the gold, but we may, perhaps. Sam Hardock said there were some specks in one bit of quartz he brought up.”

“But we shouldn’t want specks; we should want lumps.”

“There’s sure to be silver.”

“Why?” said Joe.

“Because there’s lead, and I was reading with father about how much silver you can get by purifying the lead. It’s going to be a wonderful business.”

“Hope so,” said Joe; “but they’re a precious long while getting the machinery together, and my father says the cost is awful.”

“Can’t get a great pump in a mine ready to work like you can one in a back kitchen,” said Gwyn. “See what an awkward job it is fitting the platforms for the tubing. I think they’re doing wonders, seeing what a lot there is to get ready. Sam says, though, that he believes they’ll begin pumping next month.”

But next month came round, and they did not begin pumping, for the simple reason that the machinery was not ready. Still it was in fair progress, and an arrangement was fixed so that, when the beam began to rise and fall, the water would be sent gushing into the adit by which Gwyn had made his escape on that adventurous day; and as this little gully had a gentle slope towards the sea, the water would be easily got rid of by its own natural flow.

The boys were at the mouth of the shaft on one particular day, and as the news had been spread that the first steps for drying the mine were to be taken, half the people from the little village had sauntered up, many of them being fisherfolk, and plenty of solemn conversation went on, more than one weather-beaten old sage giving it as his opinion that no good would come of it, for there was something wicked and queer about this old mine, and they all opined that it ought not to have been touched.

Gwyn noticed the head-shakings, and nudged Joe.

“Talking about the goblins in the mine,” he answered. “I say, if there are any, they’ll come rushing up the big tube like the tadpoles did in the garden pump when it was first made.”

Just then Joe caught hold of his companion’s arm, and pinched it.

“Hullo!” cried Gwyn.

“Hush! don’t talk—don’t look till I tell you which way. I’ve just seen him.”

“Seen whom?” said Gwyn, wonderingly.

“That big chap who was measuring the pit. He’s over yonder with about a dozen more men. What does it mean?”

“Mischief,” said Gwyn, huskily. “Quick! Let’s go and warn my father.”

“What about? He may only have come up to see.”

“I don’t know,” said Gwyn, excitedly. “Someone who wanted to get the mine must have sent them up first of all, and, as they couldn’t get it, I’m afraid they’ve turned spiteful, and may try to do us harm. What would they do, do you think?”

“Try and damage the machinery, perhaps,” said Joe.

“Yes, that’s it. We must warn father, and keep an eye on those fellows, or there’s no knowing what they may do. Where are they now?”

“Can’t see them,” said Joe, after a glance round. “They must have gone.”

“Yes, but where? Not to the engine-house, surely. Why, they might upset the whole thing, and do no end of mischief if they liked. Come on, and let’s make sure that they are not there, and then tell Sam Hardock to keep watch.”

Joe had another look round the now thoroughly transformed place, with its engine-house, sheds, and scaffold and wheel over the built-up shaft, but he saw nothing, and said so. Still Gwyn was not satisfied, for a peculiar feeling of dread oppressed him.

“It isn’t easy to see for the people and the buildings— Ah, there’s father; let’s go and tell him what we think.”

It was quite time: for the hero of the measuring and another sour-looking fellow were making their way round to where the two boilers were beginning to be charged with steam, and what was worse for all concerned, no one paid any heed to their movements, which were furtive and strange, suggesting that they had not come for the purpose of doing good, while their opportunities for doing a serious ill were ample; but Gwyn had just grasped that fact.

Chapter Fifteen.In the Engine-House.The boys hardly spoke as they made their way towards the engine-house, from whence came a loud hissing noise, and on hearing this, Joe exclaimed excitedly,—“He’s there.”For answer Gwyn ran to the door, and entered, hardly knowing what he was about to do, but with the feeling that this man was a natural enemy, whom it was his duty to attack; and, like a true comrade, Joe followed closely at his heels.The hissing noise increased as they approached the door; and, fully alive as he was to the danger of meddling with steam, Gwyn’s heart began to beat a little faster, for he felt that they were too late; that the mischief had been done, the steam was escaping, and that if they entered the house, it might be at the expense of a terrible scalding.All else was silent, and as they reached the doorway of the place, the shrill, shrieking noise was piercing, and made their words difficult to hear.“He has broken something, or turned on the steam, so that it may escape, Joe,” said Gwyn. “Shall we go in and try to put it right?”“If we must. But where’s the engine-driver?—where’s the stoker?”Gwyn looked round, to see that the people were crowding about the shaft where the great pump was to be set in motion and where work-people were busy still trying to get it ready. Hammers were clinking, spanners and screw wrenches rattling on nuts, and the work in progress was being patiently watched, the engine-house and boilers being for the time unnoticed.“Perhaps he’s here, after all,” said Gwyn at last, with a gasp. “Shall we go in?”Joe hesitated while you might have counted ten, and he looked despairingly round, as if in the hope of seeing something that would check him and render the venture unnecessary, for there was the sound as of a thousand snakes hissing wildly, and to one unused to the behaviour of engine boilers all this seemed preliminary to a terrible explosion, with possible death for those who went inside.“Yes, we must go in,” said the boy at last; and as Gwyn made one effort to summon his courage, and dashed through the door, he followed.The noise was now almost deafening, and at a glance they saw that the steam was escaping furiously from the two long boilers at the end farthest from where they stood, but the new bright engine, with its cylinders, pistons, rods, cranks, driving-wheel, governor, and eccentric, seemed to be perfectly safe.“He has been in and driven a pickaxe into each of the boilers,” cried Joe. “They’ll blow up together. Shall we run?”The boy’s words were almost drowned by the fierce hissing, which was now mingled with a deep bass formed by a loud humming, throbbing sound such as might be made by a Brobdingnagian tea-kettle, just upon ready for use. Then came loud cracking and spitting sounds, and the dull roar of big fires.But the man of whom they were in search was invisible, and Gwyn walked quickly round to the other side of the engine and looked sharply down that side of the long building.Joe followed.It was darker here, and the steam which filled the open roof, and was passing out of a louvre, hung lower, so that the far end was seen through a mist. “Not here,” said Gwyn. “Think we could stop the steam escaping?”“Don’t know,” shouted back Joe. “Sha’n’t we be scalded to death?”“Let’s go and try.”That was enough for Joe, who felt as if he would have given anything for the power to rush out, but seemed held there by his companion’s example.“Go on, then,” he panted out; and Gwyn had taken a couple of steps into the hot vapour, his heart throbbing violently with the great dread of ignorance, when, beyond the mist which was looking light in front of the door at the far end, there was a heavy, quick step. They could see a dark, shadowy figure, which looked of gigantic proportions through the hanging steam, and heard the crackling and crushing of coal under its feet, as it descended the stone steps into the stoke hole. This was followed by the rattling of an iron bar, quickly used, the rattle and clang of an iron door being thrown open, when a sudden glare of brilliant light turned the cloud of steam from grey to ruddy gold.“Hullo! there,” shouted a voice, evidently from the door by which the boys had entered; and in an instant there was a rush of feet, the crackling of the coal on the granite steps, and they saw the dark shadow once more, as it darted out through the far door.At the same instant there were heavy steps going along on the other side of the boilers to the stoke hole, a loud exclamation heard above the hissing and shrieking of the steam. Then came the crackling of the coal dust, the rattle of an iron implement, the furnace was closed with a clang, and the steam between the boys and the far door changed back to grey once more.The next instant, as they went on, they were face to face with the big bluff engine-driver, who shouted at them.“Oh! it’s you two young gents is it? Well, all I’ve got to say is that if you’re to come here meddling and playing your larks, someone else may tend the bylers, for I won’t.”“We haven’t done anything,” cried Gwyn, hotly.“What!” roared the man, “when I come and ketched you fooling about with that furnace door! Do you know that you might have made the fire rage away if you got stoking hard, and perhaps blow up the whole place. There’s too much pressure on now.”“Will you let me speak!” cried Gwyn angrily. “We came in because something was wrong, and no one near to see to the steam.”“Yes, there now; I only just went to that clumsy lot at the pump, to see if they meant to start it to-day, because, if they didn’t soon, I should have to damp down. Twelve o’clock, they said, and as I told Sam Hardock, there was I ready for them, but I s’pose he means twelve o’clock to-morrow. And when I comes back, I find you young gents playing the fool. D’yer want a big burst?”“No,” cried Gwyn, who had striven twice to stop the indignant flow of words. “I tell you we came in because something was wrong—to try and stop—”“Wrong? Yes, you meddling with the furnace.”“We did not, I tell you.”“What? Well, if you young gents can’t tell a good slumper, I’m a Dutchman. Why, I heard you at the furnace door, and as soon as I shouted, I hears you both roosh up the steps. Then I came round, and here you are. Better say you didn’t leave the door open.”“I do say so,” shouted Gwyn, who had hard work to make himself heard above the steam.“Oh, all right, then. You’re the governors’ sons. Burst the bylers if you like; they aren’t mine.”“Will you listen?” cried Gwyn.“Why, I am a-listening, aren’t I?” cried the man. “All right, it warn’t you, then, and it must ha’ been one o’ they big Cornish tom-cats.”“Don’t talk like a donkey,” cried Gwyn, who had lost his temper now. “I tell you we came in because something was wrong.”“Very,” said the man.“The steam was hissing horribly, as you hear it now. Aren’t you going to try and stop it?”“Stop it?” said the man. “What for? Want me to blow the place up?”“Of course not; but I want you to stop up those holes.”“You don’t know what you’re talking about, squire, or else it’s to throw me off the scent.”“I know the steam’s escaping horribly.”“Yes; all waste, through them not finishing that pump.”“Then try and stop it.”“Stop it? Don’t I tell you there’s too much pressure on as it is?”“It’s the safety valves open, Ydoll,” said Joe, with his lips to his companion’s ear.“Oh!” ejaculated Gwyn, as he grasped the truth. “I thought something was wrong.”“I know something was wrong, and without thinking, young squire,” said the man. “But you take my advice, and don’t you meddle with anything here again.”“I have told you we did not touch anything; but I suppose it’s no use to talk to you,” said Gwyn, warmly.“No, sir, not a bit,” replied the man, gruffly; “and I shall speak to the governors about you two coming meddling.”“And I shall speak to my father about your not being here taking care of the engines,” said Gwyn, as a parting shot. “If you had been at your duty, no one would have had a chance to meddle. So we will see what he says.”

The boys hardly spoke as they made their way towards the engine-house, from whence came a loud hissing noise, and on hearing this, Joe exclaimed excitedly,—

“He’s there.”

For answer Gwyn ran to the door, and entered, hardly knowing what he was about to do, but with the feeling that this man was a natural enemy, whom it was his duty to attack; and, like a true comrade, Joe followed closely at his heels.

The hissing noise increased as they approached the door; and, fully alive as he was to the danger of meddling with steam, Gwyn’s heart began to beat a little faster, for he felt that they were too late; that the mischief had been done, the steam was escaping, and that if they entered the house, it might be at the expense of a terrible scalding.

All else was silent, and as they reached the doorway of the place, the shrill, shrieking noise was piercing, and made their words difficult to hear.

“He has broken something, or turned on the steam, so that it may escape, Joe,” said Gwyn. “Shall we go in and try to put it right?”

“If we must. But where’s the engine-driver?—where’s the stoker?”

Gwyn looked round, to see that the people were crowding about the shaft where the great pump was to be set in motion and where work-people were busy still trying to get it ready. Hammers were clinking, spanners and screw wrenches rattling on nuts, and the work in progress was being patiently watched, the engine-house and boilers being for the time unnoticed.

“Perhaps he’s here, after all,” said Gwyn at last, with a gasp. “Shall we go in?”

Joe hesitated while you might have counted ten, and he looked despairingly round, as if in the hope of seeing something that would check him and render the venture unnecessary, for there was the sound as of a thousand snakes hissing wildly, and to one unused to the behaviour of engine boilers all this seemed preliminary to a terrible explosion, with possible death for those who went inside.

“Yes, we must go in,” said the boy at last; and as Gwyn made one effort to summon his courage, and dashed through the door, he followed.

The noise was now almost deafening, and at a glance they saw that the steam was escaping furiously from the two long boilers at the end farthest from where they stood, but the new bright engine, with its cylinders, pistons, rods, cranks, driving-wheel, governor, and eccentric, seemed to be perfectly safe.

“He has been in and driven a pickaxe into each of the boilers,” cried Joe. “They’ll blow up together. Shall we run?”

The boy’s words were almost drowned by the fierce hissing, which was now mingled with a deep bass formed by a loud humming, throbbing sound such as might be made by a Brobdingnagian tea-kettle, just upon ready for use. Then came loud cracking and spitting sounds, and the dull roar of big fires.

But the man of whom they were in search was invisible, and Gwyn walked quickly round to the other side of the engine and looked sharply down that side of the long building.

Joe followed.

It was darker here, and the steam which filled the open roof, and was passing out of a louvre, hung lower, so that the far end was seen through a mist. “Not here,” said Gwyn. “Think we could stop the steam escaping?”

“Don’t know,” shouted back Joe. “Sha’n’t we be scalded to death?”

“Let’s go and try.”

That was enough for Joe, who felt as if he would have given anything for the power to rush out, but seemed held there by his companion’s example.

“Go on, then,” he panted out; and Gwyn had taken a couple of steps into the hot vapour, his heart throbbing violently with the great dread of ignorance, when, beyond the mist which was looking light in front of the door at the far end, there was a heavy, quick step. They could see a dark, shadowy figure, which looked of gigantic proportions through the hanging steam, and heard the crackling and crushing of coal under its feet, as it descended the stone steps into the stoke hole. This was followed by the rattling of an iron bar, quickly used, the rattle and clang of an iron door being thrown open, when a sudden glare of brilliant light turned the cloud of steam from grey to ruddy gold.

“Hullo! there,” shouted a voice, evidently from the door by which the boys had entered; and in an instant there was a rush of feet, the crackling of the coal on the granite steps, and they saw the dark shadow once more, as it darted out through the far door.

At the same instant there were heavy steps going along on the other side of the boilers to the stoke hole, a loud exclamation heard above the hissing and shrieking of the steam. Then came the crackling of the coal dust, the rattle of an iron implement, the furnace was closed with a clang, and the steam between the boys and the far door changed back to grey once more.

The next instant, as they went on, they were face to face with the big bluff engine-driver, who shouted at them.

“Oh! it’s you two young gents is it? Well, all I’ve got to say is that if you’re to come here meddling and playing your larks, someone else may tend the bylers, for I won’t.”

“We haven’t done anything,” cried Gwyn, hotly.

“What!” roared the man, “when I come and ketched you fooling about with that furnace door! Do you know that you might have made the fire rage away if you got stoking hard, and perhaps blow up the whole place. There’s too much pressure on now.”

“Will you let me speak!” cried Gwyn angrily. “We came in because something was wrong, and no one near to see to the steam.”

“Yes, there now; I only just went to that clumsy lot at the pump, to see if they meant to start it to-day, because, if they didn’t soon, I should have to damp down. Twelve o’clock, they said, and as I told Sam Hardock, there was I ready for them, but I s’pose he means twelve o’clock to-morrow. And when I comes back, I find you young gents playing the fool. D’yer want a big burst?”

“No,” cried Gwyn, who had striven twice to stop the indignant flow of words. “I tell you we came in because something was wrong—to try and stop—”

“Wrong? Yes, you meddling with the furnace.”

“We did not, I tell you.”

“What? Well, if you young gents can’t tell a good slumper, I’m a Dutchman. Why, I heard you at the furnace door, and as soon as I shouted, I hears you both roosh up the steps. Then I came round, and here you are. Better say you didn’t leave the door open.”

“I do say so,” shouted Gwyn, who had hard work to make himself heard above the steam.

“Oh, all right, then. You’re the governors’ sons. Burst the bylers if you like; they aren’t mine.”

“Will you listen?” cried Gwyn.

“Why, I am a-listening, aren’t I?” cried the man. “All right, it warn’t you, then, and it must ha’ been one o’ they big Cornish tom-cats.”

“Don’t talk like a donkey,” cried Gwyn, who had lost his temper now. “I tell you we came in because something was wrong.”

“Very,” said the man.

“The steam was hissing horribly, as you hear it now. Aren’t you going to try and stop it?”

“Stop it?” said the man. “What for? Want me to blow the place up?”

“Of course not; but I want you to stop up those holes.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about, squire, or else it’s to throw me off the scent.”

“I know the steam’s escaping horribly.”

“Yes; all waste, through them not finishing that pump.”

“Then try and stop it.”

“Stop it? Don’t I tell you there’s too much pressure on as it is?”

“It’s the safety valves open, Ydoll,” said Joe, with his lips to his companion’s ear.

“Oh!” ejaculated Gwyn, as he grasped the truth. “I thought something was wrong.”

“I know something was wrong, and without thinking, young squire,” said the man. “But you take my advice, and don’t you meddle with anything here again.”

“I have told you we did not touch anything; but I suppose it’s no use to talk to you,” said Gwyn, warmly.

“No, sir, not a bit,” replied the man, gruffly; “and I shall speak to the governors about you two coming meddling.”

“And I shall speak to my father about your not being here taking care of the engines,” said Gwyn, as a parting shot. “If you had been at your duty, no one would have had a chance to meddle. So we will see what he says.”

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