She nodded and rose to her feet. 'You don't think the water will reach them there, do you?'
'I don't know,' I said. 'Depends how high the water level was in Come Lucky. Has it been wet here during the past week?'
'Yes,' she said, 'very wet. And Come Lucky's a big mine, much bigger than Wheal Garth.
'Only that one adit to drain Wheal Garth?' I asked.
'Yes, that's the only one.'
'Come on then,' I said. 'We must hurry. That water will rise fast.'
We went along the beach, climbed a shoulder of rock and then struggled up a long, grassy slope to a path that led to the rock crest of the headland. At the top we passed an old rifle range and then reached the first of the ruined engine houses. Kitty struck away to the right up the slope of the worked hillside to another track. A few minutes later the huddled shape of the sheds at the top of Wheal Garth rose up out of the darkness.
We went straight into the hoisting shed. I forced open the doors and peered down the sloping shaft. Far below a glow of light outlined the top of the gig. And out of the shaft came the sound of men singing. They were singing 'Good King Wenceslas.' It was a strange choice. Dave was leading them. His voice came floating up the shaft, clear as a bell. He had a nice voice. I shouted down to them, but they went on singing. I waited until they came to the end of a verse and then called down to them again. The singing started up again and then subsided. I called again.
A voice answered. It was very faint. I called down, 'What do you need?' The answer came floating back up the shaft. The words were indeterminate. I think they said that the water was rising, but I couldn't be sure. I turned to Kitty. 'Is there some rope here?' I shouted.
'Yes,' she said. 'In the stone shed. I'll get it.'