Bob and Bigley were to come over; but I felt that it would be twelve o’clock before Bob came, and that I should meet Bigley; so no harm would be done in the way of breaking faith in the appointment.
We walked sharply across the hill and descended into the Gap, but before we had gone far we met old Jonas Uggleston.
“Morning!” he said pleasantly. “Morning, squire!” to me. “Seen my Bigley yet?”
“No.”
“Ah! He has gone your way. Tell him I want to see him if he comes.”
We said we would, and old Jonas went his way and we ours.
“Why, father,” I said, “how civil he has grown!”
“Yes,” said my father gravely, “he has; but I would almost rather he had kept his distance. Don’t tell your school-fellow I said that.”
“Of course not, father,” I said confidently; and we went on to the mine—the silver mine, and I stood and stared at a part of the valley that had been inclosed with a stone wall. There were some rough stone sheds, a stack of oak props, and a rough-looking pump worked by a large water-wheel, which was set in motion by a trough which brought water from the side of the hill, where a tiny stream trickled down.
There was one very large heap of rough stone that looked as if barrows full of broken fragments were always being run along it, and turned over at the end, for the pieces to rattle down the side into the valley; there was a small heap close by, and under a shed there was a man breaking up some dirty wet stuff with a hammer.