“Why do you say no, boy?” said Sir Edward.
“Because we’ve got among the same sort of rock as you find at Ergles.”
“Good, lad!” burst out Dan Rugg. “That’s minding your teachings. But are you right?”
“Yes, father: look,” said the boy, holding up his lantern toward the glittering roof of the hall in which they stood. “There it is: Blue John.”
Dan raised his lantern too, and drew his miner’s pick from his belt.
Chink, clash.
There was a sharp blow from the pick, and Dan stooped to take up the piece of rock he had struck off, and handed it to his lord.
“Boy’s right, Sir Edward,” he said. “Look at that.”
“But what has Blue John, whoever he is— Oh, pish! I had forgotten the name of the blue spar. Is there any of it in Ergles?”
“Only place about here where there is any, Sir Edward, and that’s a piece.”