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Devon Boys: A Tale of the North Shore, a fiction by George Manville Fenn |
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Chapter 9. The Result Of The Smelting |
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_ CHAPTER NINE. THE RESULT OF THE SMELTING But there was nothing to see yet, and the brick was replaced, the fire roared once more, and for what must have been quite another quarter of an hour we waited before the doctor took out the brick again. It was now possible to make out what seemed to be a regular ring red-hot in the midst of so much glowing ember with which the pot was filled; and into this the doctor thrust the poker, to find that it passed through what was light as feathers. "I must be gentle," he said quietly, as he thrust the poker lower, till he could gently tap the bottom of the pot. "It's quite sound," he said, as he gave the poker a stirring motion and ended by withdrawing it. "I think we may let out the fire," he said; and we proceeded to bear away the slates we had used for screens, and then to take down the glowing bricks one by one, and toss them into the yard. This done, I proposed throwing a bucket of water over the heap of embers, in the midst of which stood the pot. "No, thank you, young wisdom," said Doctor Chowne. "I should like to have some result to show your father when he comes back. If you did what you say, the pot would fly all to pieces, and where would our work be then?" "I say, Doctor Chowne," I said, looking at him rather wistfully, "I wish I knew as much as you do." "Learn then," he said. "I did not know so much once upon a time." As he spoke, he slowly and carefully drew the ashes down from about the pot, and as they were spread about the brilliant glow began to give place to a pale grey feathery ash, which flushed red, and then yellow, whenever the air was disturbed, while the earthen pot that had been red-hot changed slowly to a dull drab. "There, Sep," said the doctor, "that pot will take pretty well an hour to get thoroughly cool, so we may as well go and have some dinner. What do you say?" "I was thinking, sir," I said, "that if there is any metal in that pot now, it would be something like the lead when we are casting sinkers for fishing. Why couldn't we lift the pot with the tongs, and pour out what's at the bottom and run it into a mould." "Have you got a mould, Sep?" he said. "Yes, sir; three different sizes--up here on the shelf." I went to a corner of the back kitchen, and reached down three dusty clay moulds, one of which the doctor took and set upon the floor. "You are right," he cried. "There, take your tongs, and we'll catch hold of the pot together, and set it out here. Then, both together, mind, we'll pour out what there is into the mould." It was easy enough. We each got a good hold of the pot, lifted it out with its glowing feathery charcoal ashes half filling it, and then, after setting it down to get a more suitable hold, we tilted it sidewise, and then more and more and more, but nothing came out save some glowing ashes, which fell beyond the mould in a tiny heap. "Higher still, Sep, higher, higher," the doctor kept on saying; and we tilted it more and more; but still nothing came till, just as we were about to turn it upside down, there was a flash of something bright and silvery, and a tiny drop of fluid metal ran out on to the mould, and down the side. "That's it. Up with it, Sep. A little more this side. Now then." Up went the bottom of the pot higher still, and out came a little rush of glowing charcoal, and directly after a bit of heavy clinker, and that was all. "Oh, I say, doctor," I cried, "what a pity!" "Pity, my lad! I don't think so. Here, let me do it." He lifted up the piece of hard clinker and set it upon the slate slabs by itself, and then taking hold of the mould with the tongs, he raised it and gave it a tap or two on the floor, to get rid of the feather ash, and I could see that there was what seemed to be a piece of thin lead beginning in a sort of splash running to the edge in a thread, then down the side of the mould, to finish off in a little round fat button of metal. "Hah! I don't think we've done so badly after all, Sep," he said, as he placed the mould upon the table; "but first of all, brush those embers lightly aside, and let's see if there is anything left." I took a wisp of birch and did as I was told, but there was nothing to be seen, and when the doctor took the pot out into the yard, and carefully examined it, he found nothing there, and brought the little clay vessel back. "You must take care of that pot, Sep," he said. "It is nothing to look at, but a thing which will stand fire in that way may prove valuable. Now, then, my lad, bring that bit of refuse, and we will go in and have some dinner. These things will be quite cool by the time we have done." We carried our treasures into the parlour, and, to Kicksey's great delight, had a wash and our dinner, while she obtained leave to clear away what she was pleased to call our "mess." But the doctor did not let the dinner pass without carefully examining the rugged piece of metal and the button, and then the piece of refuse, the remains of the broken-up specimen. For my part I was not at all dazzled by the result of our experiment, and at last, with my mouth full of jam and bread and cream, I said: "But that's only a shabby little bit to get out of all those bits I broke up, isn't it, sir?" "Do you think so, Sep?" he replied smiling. "Yes, sir!" "Well, I think quite differently. We put in rough stony uncleansed ore, and we have got out this piece. If there's plenty of it in the sides of the Gap, my boy, and it is properly worked, your father will be a rich man from the produce of the lead alone; and I feel pretty sure," he continued, as he examined the scrap of metal through his glass, "that there is a great deal of silver in this as well. Here, what are you doing?" he cried. "I was looking to see if father was coming," I cried, as I turned back at the door. "You need not look," he said quietly, "for it will be three hours at the least before he can get back. The pony must have a rest at the town." I came back slowly, for I felt that what the doctor said was true, and it seemed to be all so curious that our bit of mischief should turn out so strangely that I did what was a very unusual thing for me in those days, sat down and thought. The piece of metal was lying before me, and I took it up and examined it, turning it over and over in my hands, while I could not keep a strong feeling of doubt from creeping in. "Perhaps the doctor is wrong," I said to myself, and this may be worth nothing at all; and as I thought in this fashion, I longed for my father to come back, so as to hear what he had to say about the value of the metal. For in those days I had a very frank loyal feeling towards my father, and a belief in his being about the best man anywhere in the neighbourhood, and that he knew better than anybody else. The silence in the room was broken by the entrance of Kicksey to take away; and as she did so she took the opportunity of informing us that she had cleared everything away, and that the kitchen was as clean once more as a new pin. As I have before said, the doctor, as my father's old friend and companion, was quite at home in our house, and, after refreshing himself with a pinch of snuff, he proceeded to have some tobacco in another form, for he went to the corner cupboard and got out the jar and a long pipe, which he filled and lit, and then sat there in silence, watching the piece of rugged metal. As he sat watching the metal and surrounding himself with smoke, I sat and watched him, till it became so tiresome and dull that I rose quietly at last, and stole out into the garden and had a look at the sea, all aglow now with the evening sunshine, and looking curiously like the burning charcoal when it had been spread out on the kitchen floor. It was very beautiful, but I had watched that too often, so I crossed the garden and went out into the lane to see if I could find anything amusing there. For it seemed to me that it might be very nice for my father to have found a mine of lead and silver, and that it would be very interesting to see it dug out and melted, as we had melted those pieces that day--of course in a large way; but I did not feel as if I wanted to be rich, and I would a great deal rather then have been wandering out there on the cliff with Bob Chowne or Bigley Uggleston, when I heard a shout, and, looking in the direction, there, high up on the cliff path, and coming towards me with long strides, was my last-named school-fellow. "Hallo, Big!" I shouted, running towards him; "where are you going?" "Coming to look after you," he said. "Why didn't you come over again?" "Because I was wanted at home," I replied. "You might have come over to me." "I couldn't. I didn't like to. Father was put out this morning, because he saw you and your father on our grounds." "Your grounds!" I said. "Oh, come, that is a good one." "Well, father always talks about it as if all the Gap belonged to him. What were you doing there?" "Having a walk," I was obliged to say. "Oh, well, you might have stopped." "Didn't I tell you my father wanted me," I replied in a pettish way. "I've only just got out again." "I've been waiting at home to see if my father would come back. He started off to walk to Barnstaple." "Your father has?" I cried involuntarily. "Why, that's where my father has gone." "What! To Barnstaple, Sep?" I nodded. "I say," he said, "I hope they won't meet one another." "Why?" I exclaimed. "Because they might quarrel. I say, Sep, I wish your father and my father were good friends like we are." I shook my head at that, and felt rather lofty. "I don't see how that can ever be," I replied; and then I felt quite uncomfortable as I recalled my father being uneasy about old Jonas watching us that morning. I felt, too, that it would be much worse now if Jonas got to know that there was a mine upon the estate, and it seemed as if we were going to be at the beginning of a good deal of trouble. "Father went up the Gap after you had gone," said Bigley, "and I saw him go right up to the place where we blew down the big rock, and when I saw him go there I went indoors and got his spy-glass and watched him out of the window." "I say, you oughtn't to watch people," I said sharply. "I know that," replied Bigley; "but I was afraid there was going to be a bother, and I wanted to tell you if there was." "Well, what did he do?" "Why, if he didn't seem to make it all out exactly just where we had been, and he followed down the place where the stone fell, and then went on down till he came to the rough part where the rock was all bared, and stooped and looked it all over and over. Oh, he has got eyes, my father has. I could see as plain as could be through the spy-glass that he picked up bits of the stone, and once he knelt down and I think he smelt the stones." "Smelt them!" I exclaimed. "Yes, to find out about the gunpowder. He has found it all out, I'm sure." "So am I," I said sadly, but without telling Bigley I meant something else. "And then he went right down slowly just where the big rock slipped along, and down to the stream, and washed his hands and came home." "And did he speak to you about it?" "No," replied Bigley. "I expected him to say a lot. I didn't mind, for I should have told him all about it, and I don't think he would have been very cross with me; but he didn't say a single word about it, though I saw him shake his fist several times when he was talking to himself, and soon after he set off to walk in to Barnstaple, and, as I told you, he hasn't got back." Just then there was the clattering of hoofs, and I looked up and saw my father coming down the zigzag road. "I must go now," I said. "Don't think me unkind, Big, old chap. Or you stop and I'll come out to you again." "Yes, do," he said. "I'll go and sit down on the rocks till you come. Only, mind you do." I promised that I would and we parted, one going down towards the sea, the other along the lane, where I met my father looking very hot and tired; but he seemed in good spirits, so I supposed that he had not met old Jonas. "Well, Sep," he cried, "how about the experiment? What luck?" "Oh, we melted the stones, father, and got out of them a little bit of lead." "It was lead, then?" he said eagerly, as we reached the cottage. "Yes, father, and Doctor Chowne says he thinks there's silver in it as well." "You young dog!" cried the doctor, coming out pipe in mouth. "Why, you are telling all the news, and there'll be nothing left for me to do." "Only show the stuff," I said. "Ah, yes; show the result," said the doctor. "But come in, Duncan, the tea's waiting, and I want a cup myself." "And I am regularly tired out," cried my father. "Here, Sam, feed the pony well, for he has worked hard." Sam, who had heard the pony coming, took the rein and led it off to the stable, while I followed my father into the little parlour, where the doctor caught him by the arm. "Here's the specimen, father," I said; but he did not turn his head, for the doctor was speaking to him. "Did you get the deeds?" he said. "Chowne, you're as good as a witch," cried my father. "Why?" "As I came out of the lawyer's office, who should I see but old Jonas Uggleston coming along the street, and as I went into the hotel I saw him turn in where I had been." "But did you get the deeds?" cried the doctor. "Specimen, Sep?" said my father. "Oh, that's it, is it? Well, it doesn't look worth all this trouble." "Duncan, what a man you are!" said Doctor Chowne pettishly. "I've said twice over, Did you get the deeds?" "I beg your pardon, Chowne. Yes, of course. He wanted to put me off, said I'd better let them stop with him, and that there was no hurry, and that a little endorsing was wanted." "Oh, of course!" said the doctor. "But when he saw that I was in earnest, and that I meant to wait for them, he set to work and got the business done--that is, all that was wanted. In fact, it was a mere nothing." "And he wanted to keep them in his charge unsigned, with the chance of making more of the estate to somebody else if that somebody else turned up." "Jonas Uggleston to wit?" said my father. "Exactly. Duncan, old fellow, you see that you were just in time." "That's what I felt, Chowne; but there the deeds are safe and sound; the Gap is thoroughly mine--my freehold." "And you may congratulate yourself on being the owner of a valuable lead and silver mine." "Then you feel sure of that, Chowne?" said my father, who seemed quite overcome. "I am certain of it; but of course I can't say what is the quantity." "Silver?" "Probably. Lead, certain." "Then, Sep, my boy--" cried my father excitedly, catching me by the shoulder. "Yes, father," I said. I believe now that my father was going to say something about my growing up to be a rich man; but he checked himself, and only said quietly: "Come and sit down to tea." _ |
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