“Come on to the quarry at once.”
“What’s the matter—fall of rock?” cried Gartram.
“Blasting—Woodham—blown all to bits,” panted the man.
“Then he has been using dynamite.”
“Nay; soon as we picked him up, he said it was the cursed bad powder.”
“Bah! Where is he?”
“We took him home, and I fetched the doctor, and then come on here.”
“Run home, girls. No, Mr Glyddyr, see them in. I’m going on to my workmen’s cottages.”
He hurried off, and Glyddyr turned to Claude.
“I’m sorry there is such terrible news,” he began; but Claude did not seem to hear him.