There was no answer, and the big fellow actually shrank as Philip made a sharp movement forward.
But it was not to strike a blow, only to pick up something lying shining amongst the pieces of coal.
“Just as I thought,” said the young man, holding out the nail; “a contemptible pick-lock, to open the lamps that are locked up, by a wise rule, for your safety; and you—you great mass of bone and muscle, you call yourself a man! Shame upon you, shame!”
Without another word, Philip picked up the extinct lamp just as the overman came up in search of him, placed it under his arm, signed to the new-comer to lead on, and followed, hot, flushed, and angry, along the dark galleries, and out of the pit.
“Yah!” growled Ebenezer Parks, breaking the silence that lasted some few minutes after Philip’s steps had died away; “he’s nobbut a boy.”
“Nobbut a boy, eh?” said one of the men who had held him; “well, all I can say is, as I hope my bairn’ll grow up just like un.”
“He was man enew to tackle thee, Eben,” said another.
“Ay, he’s a plucked un,” said another. “I like the lad, that I do.”
“Like him!” growled Eben, glaring vindictively round at his companions. “Man enew for me? Sithee: you know me, lads, and what I can do.”
There was no reply.