“Which the reckless donkeys will open in a dangerous gallery,” cried Mr Hexton angrily. “No, my boy; Humphry Davy was a man indeed, and if you turned out half as good, or a quarter, I should be proud of you.”
“That I shall never be, father,” said the young man; “but I mean to try.”
Chapter Two.
Down in the Pit.
“Don’t tell me, lad; I hevn’t worked in t’pit twenty year for nowt. Think I don’t know? Him and his newfangled ways are wuth that!”
The great swarthy pitman snapped his fingers as he stood in the centre of a group waiting for the return of the cage from the bowels of the earth.
All about them was dark and weird-looking, with the lights casting strange shadows where the machinery stood around. There was a hissing noise and a ruddy light from the engine-house, with the panting clank of machinery; pistons worked up, and wheels spun round; while where the group of miners stood there was a square, black-looking pit, surrounded by a massive frame-work, supporting one big wheel, from which depended a thin-looking wire-rope, which was rapidly running down.
A few minutes after, and there was the ringing of a bell, the clink-clank of machinery; the wheel spun round in the other direction, and in due time the cage, as it was called, came to the surface; the group of men stepped in, and the signal for descent was about to be given, when one of the men exclaimed: