“Not when the mine is pumped out again, father?” said Joe.
“Pumped out? That will never be, my boy. The water must have broken into one of the workings which ran beneath the sea, and unless the breach could be found and stopped it would be impossible.”
“Don’t leave me for very long,” said the Major, after they had sat with him some time; “but go for a bit—it will do you good.”
The two lads went straight away to the mine, where the engineer was busy cleaning portions of the machinery, but ready enough to leave off and talk to them.
“Want to get my engines in good order, sir, so that they’ll sell well, for they’ll never be wanted again. Nay, sir, that mine’ll never be pumped out any more. Sea’s broke in somewhere beyond low-water mark. It’s all over now.”
“Do you think Tom Dinass was below?” said Gwyn.
“Yes, poor fellow. He’s a man I never liked; but there, he never liked me. No one saw him go down, but he’s never been seen since.”
They left the silent mine—only so short a time back a complete hive of industry—and went on to Harry Vores’ cottage, where the owner was busy gardening, and Sam Hardock was seated in the doorway sunning himself, but ready to try and rise on seeing the two lads, though he sank back with a groan.
“How are you, gen’lemen? How are you?” he cried cheerily. “Very glad to see you both about; I can’t manage it yet. Water’s got in my legs; but the sun’s drying it out, and as soon as I can walk I’m going to see about that bit of business. You know.”
“There drop it, Sam, old man,” said Vores, who had left his gardening to come up and shake hands. “Glad to see you gentlemen. Been down by the mine? Looks sad, don’t it, not to have the smoke rising and the stamps rattling?”