“No tricks mind,” he said. “I’m a merciful man an’ wish you no harm; but if you try to run for it, I’ll knock you down as if you was a rabbit.”
“You’re right not to trust me,” answered the poacher, calmly; “but give me that spade an’ you’ll see I’m in earnest. I want two hundred pound for my wife, don’t I? If we take turn an’ turn about, we’ll soon shift this muck. ’Twill be better for two to dig. Ban’t room for three.”
The critical moment of Daniel’s plot now approached; but he kept a grip on his nerves and succeeded in concealing his great excitement. All depended on the next half hour.
He and Corder now began to work steadily, while the others rested and watched them. The moon shone brightly, and a mound of earth and stone increased beside the hole they dug. Presently Gregory and Bartley took a turn; but the latter had not dug five minutes when Daniel snatched his spade from him and continued the work himself.
“I can’t stand watching you,” he said. “Such weak hands I never seed in my life. A man would be rotten long afore his grave was dug, if you had the digging.”
“I works with the intellects,” answered Mr Bartley. “My calling in life is higher than a sexton’s, I hope.”
After another period of labour, Corder took the inspector’s place, and soon the aperture gaped two feet deep.
“That’s it; now we’ve got to sink to the left,” explained Sweetland. “We run another two feet under this here ledge and then we come to the stuff.”
Now he was working with Gregory again and the moment for action had arrived. Opportunity had to be made, however, and Daniel’s escape depended entirely upon Mr Corder’s answer to his next question. He knew that with the giant present his plans must fail; but if Corder could be induced to go aside, Daniel felt that the rest was not difficult.