The Vicar's People Part 64

It was past midnight now, every one in the place had retired, and no doubt he would have some difficulty in getting out.

"I say the people here are mad," he thought; "they will think me mad.

Well, let them."

He went down as cautiously as he could, and found that his difficulty about getting out was only imaginary, for the door was easily opened, and, as he closed it behind him, and felt the cool night air upon his forehead, he uttered a sigh of relief.

His plans were soon made; he would go first to Pengelly, and knock him up and hear his report: for the manager was going to stay there a couple or three hours after his superior had left the mine.

He felt some compunction in this; but he knew Pengelly's interest in the works, and how willing he would be to answer questions; so he walked on, thinking over two or three plans which he had been revolving in his mind to propose to Mr Penwynn for Pengelly's benefit, and as a reward for his discovery.

Every thing was very still under the brilliant starlit sky, and as Geoffrey reached the narrow lane where Pengelly lived, he again felt some little compunction at arousing him; but, as he had gone so far, he determined to proceed.

The slight tap he gave on the door was quite sufficient to waken the miner, and Geoffrey plainly heard him leap out of bed. The next moment the cas.e.m.e.nt just above his head was opened.

"What's the matter?" he said quickly.

"Nothing, I hope, Pengelly."

"Oh, it's you, sir!"

"Yes, it is I, Pengelly. Tell me, did you leave all right?"

"Yes, sir; quite right."

"At what time?"

"I was there till nine, sir. Have you been since?"

"No, Pengelly; but I have got an uneasy feeling upon me that something might be wrong. I couldn't sleep, so I came on to you."

"Guilty conscience," thought Pengelly.

"I think," continued Geoffrey, "I'll walk on down there to see if every thing is right. Good-night."

"No, sir, stop a minute, and I'll come too."

Geoffrey protested, but as he protested Pengelly jumped into his flannel trousers and frock, and in the time that a modern gentleman would have taken to unb.u.t.ton his eyelids and think about his bath, the miner was dressed and coming down.

"It's a shame to rouse you up, Pengelly, about such a fancy as mine,"

said Geoffrey. "I was restless, and that made me fidget about the mine."

"Well, sir, she's worth fidgetting about," said Pengelly. "Let's go down. It won't do any harm. There's the two engine-men on, and it will show them that we may we expected at any time, and teach them their duty."

Geoffrey longed to say something in his own defence to the miner, as they went along under the starlit sky, but his pride kept him silent; and, gradually growing calmer and at his ease as the fresh breeze from the sea blew upon his face, they went on and on till they began climbing the rugged path to where the engine-house stood up dim and gaunt against the sky, with its lit-up windows and door having a grotesque resemblance to the face of some fiery monster, who was uttering a low, panting roar.

They found the engine steadily working, raising and lowering the enormous rod of the series of pumps, and a steady, rushing noise told that the water was running fast.

"They're both fast asleep," said Pengelly. "Hallo! who's that?"

"Where?" said Geoffrey. "I don't see any one."

"I'd be sworn I saw some one go away," exclaimed Pengelly, leaping forward, but only to return to where Geoffrey stood.

"I expect it was fancy, sir; but let's go and rouse them up. They've no business to be asleep."

He led the way into the engine-house, where, by the glow from the stoke-hole fire, the two men on duty could be seen lying back on the stone bench that formed their seat, fast asleep; and, though Pengelly shook them again and again, he could only evoke a deep stertorous snore from each in turn.

"I don't like this, sir," said Pengelly. "Let's take a look round."

Geoffrey took a lantern from a rough shelf, and together they visited office, stables, and the various buildings, ending by going towards the shaft, when Pengelly suddenly uttered a cry.

"What's wrong?" cried Geoffrey, excitedly, though the knowledge had come to him at the same moment as to his man.

"She's burst in, sir. Oh, listen! She's burst in!"

And as Geoffrey bent over the shaft, the fearful sound of the rushing water flooding the mine rose from the echoing depths upon his ear.

Stunned by the nature of the catastrophe, Geoffrey Trethick stood clutching the framework of the shaft, and leaned over listening to the surging roar of the water as it seemed to him to come bursting up through the winzes in fountains and rushing in triumph through each gallery and drive.

As for Pengelly, he had thrown himself upon the ground, and for a time neither spoke.

"Is this treachery or accident, Pengelly?" cried Trethick at last in a hoa.r.s.e, changed voice.

"Call it judgment, sir--call it judgment," groaned the miner. "If we sin, the punishment must find us out."

"Pengelly?" cried Geoffrey, as he turned upon him in his rage. "There, I cannot argue with you now. What can we do?"

"Do!" cried Pengelly, piteously. "Do nothing. What can we do but pray and ask for mercy and help, sir, from above."

"Help!" cried Geoffrey. "G.o.d helps those who help themselves. Let us be up and doing, man alive."

"It's no time to be up and doing now, sir," replied Pengelly solemnly.

"Listen, sir; do you hear? Hark at the water, as if the fountains of the great deep were broken up. Mr Trethick, sir," he continued, incongruously, "we may stop the engine, for a dozen such could not master the water gathering there."

"The wall was too thin to stand the pressure," groaned Geoffrey, "and yet it seemed so safe. Is it possible that any tricks can have been played with the mine? Yes; I see it now," he cried pa.s.sionately. "That man you saw--those two fellows drunk--yes, of course. Look! the cage is down. Some one must have gone below to-night."

Pengelly, roused by his companion's words, seemed now to grasp their meaning, and, gazing from Geoffrey to the s.p.a.ce where the cage should have been, he ran into the engine-house, and, turning the bars, threw the wheels in gear, when, after what seemed to be an interminable s.p.a.ce of time, the dripping cage came up empty to the mouth.

"Some one has, been down," said Pengelly, hoa.r.s.ely; "but whoever it was has not come up;" and without another word, the miner walked slowly back into the engine-house, sat down, and buried his face in his hands.

For a time Geoffrey stood there, holding by the iron rail that protected the shaft, listening to the rushing water, for even yet he could hardly realise the appalling nature of the affair. A short time back it would have been a very serious loss! but now, just as prosperity in fullest tide had come upon them, sweeping away all doubts and fears, the calamity seemed greater than he could bear.

And Rhoda? Mr Penwynn? What was he to say to them?

Well, the former would pity and sympathise, and he must begin again.

The latter would help him no more.