'What's worrying you?' I asked.
'Nothing.' He turned back to the rock face. 'Come on, fer Gawd's sake. Let's get on with it.'
I put my hand on his shoulder and turned him towards me. 'What's on your mind, Friar?' I asked.
'Nothing,' he replied savagely. 'Nothing. Come on. Let's get crackin'. Sooner the sea's in this 'ere ruddy gallery the better I'll be pleased.'
We drilled the remaining three holes and I fixed the charges Then we drilled to the limit of the long drill. Water poured down the drill and on to our arms. But it was not a steady stream, only a trickle. We weren't through to the sea bed.
As I tamped down the charges, Friar stood back and gazed down to where Manack and the others were replacing the timbers that covered the pit. 'Wish ter Gawd 'e'd 'ave somebody stay up at the 'ase,' he muttered.
'What are you worried about?' I said. 'The police?'
'Yep. The perlice an' that crazy ol' man. I don't like it. I tell yer straight, I don't like it. 'Ere we are cooped up da'n 'ere an' nobody up top to give us warnin' 'cept the girl. Anything might 'appen.'
I stopped then and looked at him. He turned away and pretended to adjust his lamp. 'What's on your mind, Friar?' I asked.
'There ain't nuffink on me mind.'