Tom Dinass did not come back for the money Colonel Pendarve had ordered
to be paid him, but he started off the very next day, as if he had
shaken the Ydoll dust from off his feet, and made for the Plymouth road.
The news was brought to Sam Hardock at the mine by Harry Vores, and Sam
chuckled and rubbed his hands as he went and told the two lads.
"Gone, and jolly go with him, Mr Gwyn, sir. We're well quit of him. I
was going to warn you to keep Grip always with you, for I have heared
say that he swore he'd have that dog's life; but perhaps it was all
bounce. Anyhow he's gone, and I'm sure I for one shall feel a bit
relieved to be without him."
Gwyn said very little, but he thought a great deal for a few minutes
about how much better it would have been if Sam Hardock had treated
Dinass with a little more amiability. He quite forgot all about the
matter for three days, and then he had fresh news, for Sam Hardock came
to him chuckling again.
"It's all right, sir," he said.
"What is--the pumping?"
"Tchah!--that's all right, of course, sir; I mean about Tom Dinass.
Harry Vores' wife has just come back from staying at Plymouth, and she
saw Tom Dinass there. He won't come back here. Do you know, sir, I've
got a sort o' suspicion that he broke Grip's legs."
"Eh! Why do you think that?" said Gwyn, starting. "Did anybody suggest
such a thing?"
"No, sir; but he always hated the dog, and he might have done it, you
know."
"Oh, yes, and so might you," said Gwyn, testily.
"Me, sir?"
"Yes, or anybody else. Let it rest, Sam. Grip's legs are quite well
again."
"That's what you may call snubbing a chap," said Hardock to himself as
he went away. "Well, he needn't have been quite so chuff with a man; I
only meant--Well, I am blessed!"
Sam Hardock said "blessed," but he looked and felt as if it were the
very opposite; and he hurried back to the office where Gwyn had just
been joined by Joe, who had been back home to see how his father was
getting on, for he was suffering from another of his fits.
Hardock thrust his head in at the door, and without preface groaned
out,--
"You'd better go and chain that there dog up, sir," and he nodded to
where the animal he alluded to had made himself comfortable on the rug.
"Grip? Why?" said Gwyn.
"He's back again, sir."
"Who is?" said Gwyn, though he felt that he knew.
"Tom Dinass, sir. Talk about bad shillings coming back--why, he's worse
than a bad sixpence."
"Then it was him I saw crossing the moor toward the Druid Stones," said
Joe.
"Then why didn't you say so?" cried Gwyn, sourly.
"Because I wasn't sure."
"Never sure of anything, since you've grown so tall," grumbled Gwyn.
"No, I sha'n't chain up Grip; and I tell him what it is--I'm not going
to interfere if the dog goes at him again, for he must have done
something bad, or Grip wouldn't be so fierce."
The dog pricked up his ears on hearing his name, and gave the rug a few
taps with his tail.
"He never so much as growls at any of the other men. Pretty state of
things if one can't have one's dog about because some man hates him.
Pooh! I know, Joe."
"Know what?"
"He hasn't got a job yet, and he's coming for the money father said he
was to have till he got an engagement."
"Did the guv'nor say that, sir?" cried Hardock.
"Yes."
"Then Tom Dinass won't never get no engagements, but set up for a
gentleman, and I think I shall do the same, for work and me aren't the
best of friends."
"Get out!" said Gwyn, laughing; "why, you're never happy unless you are
at work--is he, Joe?"
"No, he's a regular nuisance. Always wanting to do something else, and
stop late in the mine wasting the candles."
"What a shame, Mr Joe!" said Hardock, grinning.
"It's quite true, Sam," cried Gwyn. "Done all that painting up of
arrows on the walls near the water gallery?"
"Not quite, sir; I'm going to have a good long day at it on Friday."
"Friday's an unlucky day," said Joe.
"Not it, sir, when you want to get a job done. And I say, Mr Gwyn,
come down with me. There's a long drift you've never seen yet, where
there's some cracks and hollows chock full of the finest crystals I ever
see."
"Crystals?" cried Gwyn.
"In a new gallery?" said Joe, excitedly.
"Well, you may call it a new gallery if you like, sir," said Sam, with a
chuckle; "I calls it the oldest drift I was ever in."
"I should like to see that," said Joe.
"Come down then, sir, but aren't it a bit strange that you've taken to
like going down of late."
"No; I like going down now, for it's all strange and interesting in the
unexplored parts, when one can go down comfortably and not feel afraid
of being lost."
"Nay, but you might be still, sir," said the captain, wagging his head.
"There's a sight of bits yet that would puzzle you, just as they would
me. I have got a deal marked with directions, though, sir, and I
sha'n't be quite at rest till I've done all. Then you gents'll come
down on Friday?"
"Yes," said Gwyn, "and I'll bring a basket and hammer and chisel. Are
they fine crystals?"
"Just the finest I've ever seen, sir; some of 'em's quite of a
golden-black colour like peat water."
"But I don't want to come down all that way and find that someone has
been and chipped them off."
"Chipped 'em off, sir, when I gave orders that they weren't to be
touched!" said the captain, fiercely. "There aren't a man as would dare
to do it 'cept Tom Dinass, and he's gone. Leastwise, he was gone, and
has come back. They're all right, sir; and I tell you what, if I were
you gen'lemen, I'd bring down a basket o' something to eat, for you'll
be down most of the day, and it wouldn't be amiss if you brought some o'
that rhubarb and magneshy wire to light up in the crystal bit, for the
roof runs up wonderful high--it's natural and never been cut like.
Regular cave."
"We'll come, Sam. This is going to be interesting, Joe. We won't
forget the rhubarb wire neither."
"That's right, sir. What do you say to d'rectly after breakfast--say
nine o'clock, if it's not too soon for you, Friday--day after
to-morrow?"
"We'll be there, Sam. All right down below?"
"Never more regular, sir. She's dry as a bone, and the stuff they're
getting's richer than ever. Only to think of it! What a job I had to
get the Colonel to start! I say, Mr Gwyn, sir, when he's made his
fortune, and you've made yours, I shall expect a pension like the
guv'nor's giving Tom Dinass."
"All right, Sam. I'll see that you have it."
"Thankye, sir," said the mining captain, in all seriousness, and he left
the office.
No sooner was he gone than Gwyn turned to his companion.
"I say, Joe," he said; "you'd better not come."
"Why not?"
"You've grown too much lately; you'll be taking all the skin off the top
of your head, and grow bald before your time."
"Get out!" said Joe, good-humouredly; "didn't you hear him say that the
roof was too high to see with a candle?"
"Oh, of course," cried Gwyn. "Then you'd better come. There must be
about room enough in a place like that."