‘Weemen are sae easy pleased, puir feckless bodies,’ he said to himself, ‘a bonny face is a’ they fash their heads aboot, though the same may be already in the grip of auld Nickyben. Weel, weel, if Madam does fancy the lad—an’ he’s no bad lookin’, I’ll say that—she may just hae her ain way, and I’ll keep my e’e on baith.’
He looked grimly at the young man as he came briskly forward with a gay smile.
‘Ye’re a verra early bird,’ he said, fondling his frill of white hair, and looking keenly at the tall, slim figure of the Frenchman.
‘Case of “must”, my friend,’ returned Vandeloup, coolly; ‘it’s only rich men can afford to be in bed, not poor devils like me.’
‘You’re no muckle like ither folk,’ said the suspicious old Scotchman, with a condemnatory sniff.
‘Of that I am glad,’ retorted Vandeloup, with suavity, as he walked beside him to the men’s quarters. ‘What a horrible thing to be the duplicate of half-a-dozen other men. By the way,’ breaking off into a new subject, ‘Madame Midas is charming.’
‘Aye, aye,’ said Archie, jealously, ‘we ken all aboot they French-fangled way o’ gieing pretty words, and deil a scrap of truth in ony o’ them.’
Gaston was about to protest that he said no more than he felt, which was indeed the truth, but Archie impatiently hurried him off to breakfast at the office, as he declared himself famishing. They made a hearty meal, and, having had a smoke and a talk, prepared to go below.
First of all, they arrayed themselves in underground garments—not grave clothes, though the name is certainly suggestive of the cemetery—which consisted of canvas trousers, heavy boots, blue blouses of a rough woollen material, and a sou’wester each. Thus accoutred, they went along to the foot of the poppet heads, and Archie having opened a door therein, Vandeloup saw the mouth of the shaft yawning dark and gloomy at his feet. As he stood there, gazing at the black hole which seemed to pierce down into the entrails of the earth, he turned round to take one last look at the sun before descending to the nether world.
This is quite a new experience to me,’ he said, as they stepped into the wet iron cage, which had ascended to receive them in answer to Archie’s signal, and now commenced to drop down silently and swiftly into the pitchy darkness. ‘It puts me in mind of Jules Verne’s romances.’