Part 48 (1/2)

”Come up again!” cried the miner, as a low murmur arose from the men around. ”You don't mean to say that you've come up and left them two poor boys in the lurch!”

”Lurch be hanged!” cried Dina.s.s, fiercely, and now subsiding with a groin, as it he were in pain. ”It's them left me in the lurch. They started a game on me; I saw 'em whispering together, but I didn't think it meant anything till we'd got some ways in, and my candle wanted a bit o' snuffing to make it burn; so I kneels down and opens the lanthorn, and it took a bit o' time, for I wetted my thumb and finger to snuff it, and the wick spluttered after, and the light went out. Course I had my box o' matches, but it took ever so long to light the damp wick. At last, though, I got it to burn, but it went out again; and I turns to them, where they was waiting for me when I see 'em last. 'Give's a fresh candle, sir,' I says, 'for this here one won't burn.' But there was no answer. So I spoke louder, never thinking they was playing me any larks, but there was no answer; and I shouted, and there was no answer; and last of all I regularly got the horrors on me, for I was all alone.”

”Well?” said Vores, scornfully, ”what then?”

”Oh, then I begun wandering about in the dark banks and lanes, shouting and hollering, and going half mad. It's a horrid place, and I must have gone about for miles before I found my way back to the sumph, and nearly fell into it. But haven't they come up again?”

”No,” said Vores, who had stepped up and opened the lanthorn as the man went on talking. ”But how was it, when your candle wouldn't light again, that it's all burnt down in the socket?”

”Oh, I did get it to light at last of all,” said Dina.s.s; ”but I had to burn all my matches first, and hadn't one left for a pipe.”

”But you said you went about all in the dark.”

”Yes, that was afterwards, and it soon burned out.”

”Soon burned out!” cried Vores, fiercely. ”Look here, mates; this fellow's a stranger here, and I don't know why he should have been set over us, for he's a liar, that's what he is. He didn't want to go down, and as soon as he could he hung back, and let those two poor boys go on all by themselves.”

”What!” cried Dina.s.s, as a murmur arose; ”it's you that's the liar;” and he rose scowling.

”Dessay I am,” said Vores as fiercely; ”but I'm a honest sort of liar, if I am, and not a coward and a sneak, am I, lads?”

”Nay, that you aren't, Harry Vores,” cried another miner. ”We'll all say that.”

”Ay! Shame, shame!” cried the miners.

”I'll lay a halfpenny he's been waiting at the bottom of the shaft all the time, and then come up.”

”Get out of the way,” roared Vores, ”this is men's work, not cowards'.

Here, lads, come on, we must go and fetch those boys up at once.”

He gave Dina.s.s a heavy thrust with his hand as he spoke, and the man staggered back against Grip, who retaliated by seizing him by the leg of the trousers and hanging on till he was kicked away.

But this incident was hardly noticed, for the men were busily arming themselves with lanthorns and candles ready for the descent.

”Four of us'll be enough,” said Vores, every man present having come forward to descend. ”Perhaps Tom Dina.s.s, Esquire, would like to go too, though. If so, we can make room for him.”

There was a roar of laughter at this, and Dina.s.s glared round at the men, as he stood holding one leg resting on the bench, as if it had been badly bitten by the dog.

”Ready?” cried Vores.

”Ay, ay,” was answered.

”Come on, then, and let's get the boys up. Dessay they've found their fathers before now.”

Vores stepped to the skep and laid his hand on the rail just as the last lanthorn was lit and snapped to, when there was the sharp ting on the gong again--the signal from below--and the men gave a hearty cheer.

”Give another, my lads,” cried Vores; and instead of taking their places in the empty skep, the men stood round and saw it descend, while they watched the other portion of the endless wire rope beginning to ascend steadily with its burden.

”I wouldn't stand in your boots for a week's wage, my lad,” said Vores, banteringly, as he looked to where Dina.s.s stood, still resting his leg on the bench and holding it.

”You mind your own business,” he growled.