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Sappers and Miners; The Flood beneath the Sea, a novel by George Manville Fenn |
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Chapter 36. Grip's Antipathy |
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_ CHAPTER THIRTY SIX. GRIP'S ANTIPATHY "I really think you ought to stay in, Gwyn," said Mrs Pendarve, anxiously. "Oh, I'll stay in if you like, mother," said the boy, patting the hand that was laid upon his arm, and looking affectionately in his mother's eyes; "but don't you think it would be all nonsense?" "Yes," said the Colonel, firmly, as he looked up from the work he was reading. "He's quite well, my dear." "No, no, my love; he's too pale to be well." "Fancy, my dear; but perhaps he may be. Describe your symptoms, Gwyn, my boy." "Haven't got any to describe, father," said Gwyn, merrily. "Well, then, to satisfy your mother, how do you feel?" "Ashamed of myself, father, for having had the doctor." "Exactly. He's quite well, my dear. It was bad for him, of course; but a strong, healthy boy does not take long to recover from a long walk and some enforced abstinence--There, you can go, Gwyn, and--" "Yes, father?" said the boy, for the Colonel paused. "There's young Jollivet coming over the hill, so Major Jollivet and I would feel greatly obliged if you two lads did not get into another scrape for some time to come." "Oh, I say," cried Gwyn, "I do call that too bad. Isn't it, mother? Father lets the Major take him down and get lost in the mine--" "Nothing of the kind, sir. We found our way back--you did not." "And then when we go down," continued Gwyn, without heeding his father's words, "to try and find them, father calls it getting into a scrape." "Ah, well, never mind what I called it," said the Colonel, smiling; "but be careful, please. We don't want any more exploring." Gwyn went off, met Joe, and they made for a favourite place on the cliff where they could look down on the sea and the sailing gulls to have a chat about their late adventure, this being their first meeting since they were carried home from the mine. "You're all right, aren't you, Ydoll?" said Joe. "Never felt better in my life, only I don't feel as if I could sit still here. Let's go to the mine." "To go down? No, thank you--not to-day." "Who wants to go down. I mean to have a talk to Sam and the men. I want to hear more about it. Oh, I say, though, it's too bad to have left old Grip chained up. Let's go and fetch him and, after we've been to the mine, give him a good run over the down and along the cliff." "Yes," said Joe, quietly; and Gwyn led the way back toward the house by the cove. "That dog ought to have a golden collar," said Gwyn. "No; I tell you what--he shall have one made of the first tin that is smelted." "Too soft; it would bend," said Joe. "Very well, then, we'll have some copper put with it to make it hard, and turn it to bronze." "What's the good? Dogs don't want ornaments. He'd be a deal happier with his old leather strap." "I don't care; he shall have one of bronze." He told Grip this when he reached the yard, and the dog rushed toward them, standing on his hind-legs and straining against his collar at the full extent of his chain till he was unfastened, when he went half mad with excitement till they were out of the grounds and on their way toward the mine. Then as he trotted on before them straight for the buildings they heard the panting of the engine, and came in sight of the smoke. For the pump was steadily at work again, clearing out the water which had begun to gather, consequent upon the enforced inaction. Sam Hardock caught sight of them before they reached the mine, and came to meet them, smiling largely. "How are you, gentlemen?--how are you?" he cried. "Not much the worse, then, from your trip underground?" "Oh, no, Sam, we're right enough," said Gwyn; "but I say, I can't understand about our only being in the mine two days. It seemed to me like a week." "Fortnight," said Joe, correcting him. "Well, fortnight, then." "Ay, it would," said Hardock, looking serious now. "I mind being shut up in one of the Truro mines by a fall; and we were only there about thirty hours, but it seemed to me just like thirty days." "But hasn't there been a mistake? We must have been there more than forty-eight hours." "No, my lad; that was the time, and quite long enough, too; but I'm afraid it would have been twice as long if it hadn't been for this dog. It was a fine idea to send him down to try and find you." "A splendid idea! Who's was it?" "Oh, never mind about that," said Hardock, stooping down to pat the dog in the most friendly way. "Someone said after we'd got back along of your father, Mr Gwyn, that the dog was more likely to find you than anyone; but just then the Colonel ordered a fresh search, and a party went down, and then another, and another, for there was no stopping; they hunted for you well. But at last him who proposed the dog said he was sure that was the way to go to work; and then at last the Colonel says, 'Well, Hardock,' he says, 'I believe you're right. Try the dog!'" "Then it was you who proposed it," said Gwyn, catching the miner's arm. "Me? Was it? Well, perhaps it was," said Hardock; "but lor' a mussy, I was all in such a flurry over the business I don't half recollect. Sort o' idee it was Harry Vores. Maybe it was." "No, it wasn't," said Gwyn; "I'm sure it was you, Sam. Now, wasn't it?" He caught the man's hand in his, and there was a dim look in his eyes which went straight to the miner's heart, and he said huskily-- "Well, s'pose it was, Master Gwyn, wouldn't you ha' been ready to jump at anything as a last sort o' chance, when there was two lads lost away down in a place like that? Why, I'd ha' done anything, let alone depending on a dog. It warn't as if I didn't want to go myself: I did go till I dropped and couldn't do no more, and begun to wish I'd never said a word about the gashly old mine." "Well, don't go on like that," cried Gwyn, laughing, as he warmly shook the mine captain's hand, while Joe caught hold of the other and held on. "Here, hi, don't you two go on like that," cried the man; "what's the good o' making such a fuss. It was the dog saved your lives, not me, my lads; and do leave off, please. You're making me feel like a fool." "No, we're not; we're trying to make you feel that we're grateful for what you did, Sam," said Gwyn. "Why, of course, I know that," said the man, with his voice sounding husky and strange; "but don't you see what you're doing, both of you?" "Yes; shaking hands," said Joe. "Nay; pumping my arms up and down till you've made the water come. Look here, if, if my eyes aren't quite wet. Ah!" Hardock gave himself a shake, as if to get rid of his feeling of weakness, and then indulged in one of his broadest smiles. "There," he said, "it's all over now; but my word, me and Harry Vores-- ay, and every man-Jack of us--did feel bad. For, as I says to Harry, I says, it warn't as if it had been two rough chaps like us reg'lar mining lads. It was our trade; but for you two young gents, not yet growed up, to come to such an end was more than we could bear. But we did try, lot after lot of us. It warn't for want o' trying that we didn't find you. Wonderful place, though, aren't it?" "Horrible!" said Joe. "Oh, I don't know, sir; not horrible," said the man in a tone that was half-reproachful; "it's wonderful, I call it, and ten times as big as I expected." "So big and dangerous that it will be no good," said Joe. "What!" cried Hardock, laughing. "Did you look about you when you were down there?" "As much as we could for the darkness." "And so did I, sir," said the man, with a chuckle. "Of course, most when I was wandering about with your fathers. No good because it's so big? Wait a bit, and you'll see. Why, I shall begin to make a regular map plan of that place below. It will take months and months perhaps, but we shall explore a bit at a time, and mark the roads and drifts with arrows, and we shall all get more and more used to it." "One could hardly get used to such a place as a tin mine, Sam," said Gwyn. "Oh, yes, we could, sir, and we shall. But I see you didn't make the use of your eyes that I did, or you'd have more to say." "What do you mean?" cried Gwyn. "Didn't you see how rough all the mining had been?" "Well, yes." "And don't you see what that means?" "No." "Then I'll tell you, both of you--there's ore there enough to make your fathers the richest gentlemen in these parts; and there isn't a company in Cornwall as wouldn't do anything to get it. New-fashioned machinery will do what the old miners couldn't manage, and we won't have any more losing our way. There, I'm busy; so good-bye, and good luck to you both. Some day, when you grow to be men, you'll thank me for what I've done, for I've about made you both." "That means we're both going to be very rich some day," said Gwyn; "but it doesn't matter. Come on, and let's give old Grip a jolly good run. Come on, old dog." Grip did not come, but led off; and they made for the edge of the cliff, which ran along, on an average, three hundred feet above where the waves beat at their feet, but they had not gone far before Joe, who had glanced back, said quickly,-- "What's Tom Dinass following us for out here?" Gwyn glanced back, too. "Not following us," he said quickly; "he's making for the bend of the rock yonder." "Yes," said Joe; "but that's where he knows we shall have to pass. What does he mean? He must have seen us at the mine and followed." "I don't know," said Gwyn, thoughtfully; and a peculiar feeling of uneasiness attacked him. "But never mind; let's go on, or he'll think we're afraid of him." "I am," said Joe, frankly. "Well, then, if you are, you mustn't show it. Come on. Quiet, Grip." For though the man was several hundred yards away, Grip had caught sight of him, set up all the thick hair about his neck, and uttered a low, deep growl. _ |
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