“As much as we could for the darkness.”
“And so did I, sir,” said the man, with a chuckle. “Of course, most when I was wandering about with your fathers. No good because it’s so big? Wait a bit, and you’ll see. Why, I shall begin to make a regular map plan of that place below. It will take months and months perhaps, but we shall explore a bit at a time, and mark the roads and drifts with arrows, and we shall all get more and more used to it.”
“One could hardly get used to such a place as a tin mine, Sam,” said Gwyn.
“Oh, yes, we could, sir, and we shall. But I see you didn’t make the use of your eyes that I did, or you’d have more to say.”
“What do you mean?” cried Gwyn.
“Didn’t you see how rough all the mining had been?”
“Well, yes.”
“And don’t you see what that means?”
“No.”
“Then I’ll tell you, both of you—there’s ore there enough to make your fathers the richest gentlemen in these parts; and there isn’t a company in Cornwall as wouldn’t do anything to get it. New-fashioned machinery will do what the old miners couldn’t manage, and we won’t have any more losing our way. There, I’m busy; so good-bye, and good luck to you both. Some day, when you grow to be men, you’ll thank me for what I’ve done, for I’ve about made you both.”