“Oh yes—all right. Tell the police. How are you going to do it?”
“Easily enough. I’ll call for help, and—”
“Do,” said the man, taking a small revolver from his breast. “Now, look here, Mr Drinkwater; men like us don’t enter upon such an enterprise as this without being prepared for consequences. They would be very serious for us if they were found out. Nobody saw you come in where you were not asked, and when you came to insult my friend’s wife.”
“Wife?” exclaimed Mr Barclay, for the word almost took his breath away.
“Yes, sir, wife; and it might happen that the gallant husband had an accident with you. We can dig holes, you see. Perhaps we might put somebody in one and cover him up.—Now, you understand. Behave yourself and you shall come to no harm; but play any tricks, and— Look here, my lads; show our new labourer what you have in your pockets.”
“Not now,” they said, tapping their breasts. “He’s going to work.”
Mr Barclay, as he used to say afterwards, felt as if he was in a dream, and without another word went down the ladder into the well, which was about ten feet deep, and found himself facing the opening of a regular egg-shaped drain, carefully bricked round, and seemingly securely though roughly made.
“Way to Tom Tiddler’s ground,” said the man who had followed him. “Now, then, take that light and this spade. I’ll follow with a basket; and you’ve got to clear out the bricks and earth that broke loose yesterday.”
Mr Barclay looked in at the drain-like passage, which was just high enough for a man to crawl along easily, and saw that at one side a zinc pipe was carried, being evidently formed in lengths of about four feet, joined one to the other, but for what purpose, in his confused state, he could not make out.
What followed seemed like a part of a dream, in which, after crawling a long way, at first downwards, and then, with the passage sloping upwards, he found his farther progress stopped by a quantity of loose stones and crumbled down earth, upon which, by the direction of the man who followed close behind, he set down a strong-smelling oil lamp, filled the basket pushed to him, and realised for the first time in his life what must be the life of a miner toiling in the bowels of the earth.