“What’s he got to do with it?” I asked, astonished.
“Some of his friends carrying out the work he left unfinished. They mean to smash the Area; and they’ve hit us on our weakest point, there’s no doubt. No coal, no work in the factories, no nitrogen. This is serious, Jack.”
Another call on the telephone brought the news that three more pits had been destroyed. Nordenholt rang up the Coal Control once more and urged them to even greater haste in their efforts to get the men to the surface. Then he turned back to me.
“Do you realise what it all means, Jack? As far as I can see, it’s the beginning of the end for us. We can’t pull through on this basis; and I doubt if we have heard the full extent of the disaster even now.”
I have endeavoured to convey the impression made upon my mind by the first news of the catastrophe; but little purpose would be served by continuing the story in detail. All that morning we stood by the telephone, gathering in the tale of disaster bit by bit in disjointed fragments as it came over the wire. Here and there, items of better news filtered through: reports that in some pits the whole of the underground workers had been brought safely to the surface, accounts of the immunity of certain shafts. But as a whole it was a black record which we gathered in. The work had been planned with skill; and the execution had not fallen below the level of the plan. In one or two cases the miscreants had been detected in the act and captured before they had time to do any damage; but these discoveries were very few. As far as most of the pits were concerned, we never were able to establish how the work had been done; for all traces were buried under the debris in the wrecked shafts, which have been left unopened ever since the catastrophe. One thing was certain, the whole of the workers actually in the galleries at the time of the explosions were lost for good and all. They were far beyond the reach of any human help.
It is no part of my plan to do more than indicate the horror of this calamity. I draw no pen-pictures of the crowds around the pit-heads, the crying of the women, the ever-recurring demands for the names of the lost. These were features common to all mining accidents in the old days; and this one differed from the rest only in its magnitude and not in its form.
Owing to the colossal scale of the casualty list it was impossible to minimise the matter in any way. Nordenholt decided to tell the truth in full as soon as the total losses were definitely established. He gave his newspapers a free hand; and by the late afternoon the placards were in the streets.
Terrible Disasters in Coal District.
Many Shafts Blocked.
All Underground Workers Entombed.
11,000 Dead.
To most of those who read the accounts of the catastrophe, it seemed a terrible blow of Fate; but we at the centre of things knew that the immediate loss was as nothing in comparison with the ultimate results which it would bring in its train. All the largest pits were out of action. The coal output, even at the best, could not possibly keep pace with the demands of the future; and with the failure of fuel, the whole activities of the Area must come to a standstill. Just on the edge of success, it seemed all our efforts were to be in vain. From beyond the grave the dead fanatic had struck his blow at the material world which he hated; and we shuddered under the shock.