“Well, you may call it a new gallery if you like, sir,” said Sam, with a chuckle; “I calls it the oldest drift I was ever in.”
“I should like to see that,” said Joe.
“Come down then, sir, but aren’t it a bit strange that you’ve taken to like going down of late.”
“No; I like going down now, for it’s all strange and interesting in the unexplored parts, when one can go down comfortably and not feel afraid of being lost.”
“Nay, but you might be still, sir,” said the captain, wagging his head. “There’s a sight of bits yet that would puzzle you, just as they would me. I have got a deal marked with directions, though, sir, and I sha’n’t be quite at rest till I’ve done all. Then you gents’ll come down on Friday?”
“Yes,” said Gwyn, “and I’ll bring a basket and hammer and chisel. Are they fine crystals?”
“Just the finest I’ve ever seen, sir; some of ’em’s quite of a golden-black colour like peat water.”
“But I don’t want to come down all that way and find that someone has been and chipped them off.”
“Chipped ’em off, sir, when I gave orders that they weren’t to be touched!” said the captain, fiercely. “There aren’t a man as would dare to do it ’cept Tom Dinass, and he’s gone. Leastwise, he was gone, and has come back. They’re all right, sir; and I tell you what, if I were you gen’lemen, I’d bring down a basket o’ something to eat, for you’ll be down most of the day, and it wouldn’t be amiss if you brought some o’ that rhubarb and magneshy wire to light up in the crystal bit, for the roof runs up wonderful high—it’s natural and never been cut like. Regular cave.”
“We’ll come, Sam. This is going to be interesting, Joe. We won’t forget the rhubarb wire neither.”