“Oh! the best, the best,” said Maggot with a laugh; “boatsmen no less—so look sharp. Zackey booy, come here.”
Zackey put down the unfortunate black kitten (which immediately sought comfort in repose) and obeyed his father’s summons, while his mother, knowing that her husband had some plot in his wise head, set about preparing a sumptuous meal, which consisted of bread and butter, tea and fried mackerel, and Cornish pasty.
“Zackey, my son,” said Maggot while he continued his toilet.
“Iss, father.”
“I want ’ee to come down to the owld shaft with me, an’ when I give ’ee the ward cut away as hard as thee legs can spank to Balaswidden, an’ fetch the lads that are theere to the owld shaft. They knaw what to do, but tell ’em to make so little noise as they can. Dost a hear, my son?”
“Iss, faither,” replied Zackey, with a wink of such profound meaning that his sire felt quite satisfied he was equal to the duty assigned him.
“Now, doan’t ’ee wag tongue more than enough,” continued Maggot; “and go play with the chet till I’m ready.”
The urchin at once descended like a thunderbolt on the black kitten, but that marvellous animal had succeeded in snatching five minutes’ repose, which seemed to be amply sufficient to recruit its energies, for it began instantly to play—in other words to worry and scratch the boy’s hand—with the utmost glee and good-humour.
In a few minutes Maggot and his son went out and hastened to the old shaft, where they found the boatsmen still hard at work with pick and shovel clearing away the rubbish.
“You haven’t found a bunch o’ copper yet, I dessay?” said Maggot with a grin.