Volume Ii Part 39 (2/2)
”Fan uninjured?”
”Yes, sir--and speed increased.”
Followed by Madan, Tressady walked up to the shaft, and himself questioned Macgregor and the two hewers.
Then he beckoned to Madan, and the two walked in close converse towards the lamphouse, discussing a plan of action. As they pa.s.sed slowly along the bank the eyes of the miserable terror-stricken throng to either side followed every movement. But there was not a sound from anyone. Once Tressady looked up and caught the faces of some men near him--dark faces, charged with a meaning that seemed instantly to stiffen his own nerve for what he had to do.
”I give Dixon three more minutes,” he said, impatiently looking at his watch; ”then we go down without him.”
Dixon was the inspector. He was well known throughout the district, a plucky, wiry fellow, who was generally at the pit's mouth immediately after an accident, ready and keen to go with any rescue party on any errand, however dangerous--purely, as he himself declared, for professional and scientific reasons. In this case, he lived only a mile away, on the further side of the village, so that Madan's messenger had not far to go.
As he spoke, George felt his arm clutched from behind. He turned, and saw Mary Batchelor, who had come forward from a group of women.
”Sir George! Listen 'ere, Sir George.” Her lined face and tear-blurred eyes worked with a pa.s.sion of entreaty. ”The boy went down at five with the rest. Don't yer bear 'im no malice. Ee's a poor sickly creetur, an the Lord an't give 'im the full use of his wits.”
George smiled at the poor thing's madness, and touched her kindly on the shoulder.
”Don't you trouble yourself, Mary; all that can be done will be done--for everybody. We are only giving Mr. Dixon another minute; then we go down.
Look here”--he drew her inside the door of the lamproom, which happened to be close by, for an open-mouthed group, eager to hear whatever he might be saying, had begun to press about them. ”Can you take this message from me up to the house? There'll be no news here, you know, for a long time, and I left Lady Tressady asleep.”
He tore a half-sheet from the letter in his pocket, scribbled a few words upon it, and put it into Mary's hand.
The woman, with her shawl over her head, ran past the lamphouse towards the entrance-gate as fast as her age would let her, while George rejoined Madan.
”Ah, there he is!”
For the small, lean figure of the inspector was already pa.s.sing the gate.
Tressady hurried to meet him.
By the time the first questions and answers were over, Tressady, looking round for Madan, saw that the manager was speaking angrily to a tall man in a rough coat and corduroy trousers who had entered the pit premises in the wake of Mr. Dixon.
”You take yourself off, Mr. Burrows! You're not wanted here.”
”Madan!” called Tressady, ”attend to Mr. Dixon, please. I'll see to that man.”
And he walked up to Burrows, while the men standing near crowded over the line they had been told to keep.
”What do you want?” he said, as he reached the newcomer.
”I have come to offer myself for the rescue party. I've been a working miner for years. I've had special experience in accidents before. I can beat anybody here in physical strength.”
As he spoke the great heavily built fellow looked round him, and a murmur of a.s.senting applause came from the bystanders.
Tressady studied him.
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