He shaded his eyes again to watch a party of three men toiling up a slope, half a mile away, and began to descend from his coign of vantage to reach the pathway at the entrance to the gap, seeing as he did that he would not arrive there long before the others.
A glance at his watch showed him that it was still only ten o’clock, for he had started on his mountain tramp at daybreak, and as he walked and slid downward, he calculated that he would have time after the mine examination to make for one of the villages in the neighbourhood of Matlock to pass the night, so as to see as much of the country as he could.
“Morning, Sturgess; you got my letter then?”
“Oh, yes, sir, yesterday morning,” said the man, as Reed nodded at his two sturdy followers—rough-looking men of the mining stamp, both of whom acknowledged his salute with a half-sneering smile.
“Brought two different chaps this time. Got enough tackle?”
“Oh, yes, sir; ropes, hammer, spikes, and crowbar.”
“Lanthorn?”
“Oh, yes, sir. Shouldn’t come on a job like this without a light.”
“Then come along.”
He led the way through the narrow entrance, where the rock had once upon a time been picked away to allow room for the passage of horses or rough trucks, but now all covered with lichen and the marks of the eroding tooth of Time; and then up and down and in and out along the side of the chasm, which grew more gloomy at every step, deeper into the mountain-side, while the bottom of the gully grew narrower and closer, till it resembled the dried-up bed of a stream which had become half blocked up with the great masses of stone, which had fallen from above.