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diff --git a/1355-0.txt b/1355-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6dc2650 --- /dev/null +++ b/1355-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,5238 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 1355 *** + +The Underground City + +OR +THE BLACK INDIES + +(Sometimes Called The Child of the Cavern) + +By Jules Verne + +Verne, Jules. _Works of Jules Verne_. Ed. Charles F. Horne. +Vol. 9. New York: F. Tyler Daniels Company, 1911. 277-394. + + +Contents + + CHAPTER I. CONTRADICTORY LETTERS + CHAPTER II. ON THE ROAD + CHAPTER III. THE DOCHART PIT + CHAPTER IV. THE FORD FAMILY + CHAPTER V. SOME STRANGE PHENOMENA + CHAPTER VI. SIMON FORD’S EXPERIMENT + CHAPTER VII. NEW ABERFOYLE + CHAPTER VIII. EXPLORING + CHAPTER IX. THE FIRE-MAIDENS + CHAPTER X. COAL TOWN + CHAPTER XI. HANGING BY A THREAD + CHAPTER XII. NELL ADOPTED + CHAPTER XIII. ON THE REVOLVING LADDER + CHAPTER XIV. A SUNRISE + CHAPTER XV. LOCH LOMOND AND LOCH KATRINE + CHAPTER XVI. A FINAL THREAT + CHAPTER XVII. THE “MONK” + CHAPTER XVIII. NELL’S WEDDING + CHAPTER XIX. THE LEGEND OF OLD SILFAX + + + + +THE UNDERGROUND CITY + + + + +CHAPTER I. +CONTRADICTORY LETTERS + + +To Mr. F. R. Starr, Engineer, 30 Canongate, Edinburgh. + +If Mr. James Starr will come to-morrow to the Aberfoyle coal-mines, +Dochart pit, Yarrow shaft, a communication of an interesting nature +will be made to him. + +“Mr. James Starr will be awaited for, the whole day, at the Callander +station, by Harry Ford, son of the old overman Simon Ford.” + +“He is requested to keep this invitation secret.” + +Such was the letter which James Starr received by the first post, on +the 3rd December, 18—, the letter bearing the Aberfoyle postmark, +county of Stirling, Scotland. + +The engineer’s curiosity was excited to the highest pitch. It never +occurred to him to doubt whether this letter might not be a hoax. For +many years he had known Simon Ford, one of the former foremen of the +Aberfoyle mines, of which he, James Starr, had for twenty years, been +the manager, or, as he would be termed in English coal-mines, the +viewer. James Starr was a strongly-constituted man, on whom his +fifty-five years weighed no more heavily than if they had been forty. +He belonged to an old Edinburgh family, and was one of its most +distinguished members. His labors did credit to the body of engineers +who are gradually devouring the carboniferous subsoil of the United +Kingdom, as much at Cardiff and Newcastle, as in the southern counties +of Scotland. However, it was more particularly in the depths of the +mysterious mines of Aberfoyle, which border on the Alloa mines and +occupy part of the county of Stirling, that the name of Starr had +acquired the greatest renown. There, the greater part of his existence +had been passed. Besides this, James Starr belonged to the Scottish +Antiquarian Society, of which he had been made president. He was also +included amongst the most active members of the Royal Institution; and +the _Edinburgh Review_ frequently published clever articles signed by +him. He was in fact one of those practical men to whom is due the +prosperity of England. He held a high rank in the old capital of +Scotland, which not only from a physical but also from a moral point of +view, well deserves the name of the Northern Athens. + +We know that the English have given to their vast extent of coal-mines +a very significant name. They very justly call them the “Black Indies,” +and these Indies have contributed perhaps even more than the Eastern +Indies to swell the surprising wealth of the United Kingdom. + +At this period, the limit of time assigned by professional men for the +exhaustion of coal-mines was far distant and there was no dread of +scarcity. There were still extensive mines to be worked in the two +Americas. The manufactories, appropriated to so many different uses, +locomotives, steamers, gas works, &c., were not likely to fail for want +of the mineral fuel; but the consumption had so increased during the +last few years, that certain beds had been exhausted even to their +smallest veins. Now deserted, these mines perforated the ground with +their useless shafts and forsaken galleries. This was exactly the case +with the pits of Aberfoyle. + +Ten years before, the last butty had raised the last ton of coal from +this colliery. The underground working stock, traction engines, trucks +which run on rails along the galleries, subterranean tramways, frames +to support the shaft, pipes—in short, all that constituted the +machinery of a mine had been brought up from its depths. The exhausted +mine was like the body of a huge fantastically-shaped mastodon, from +which all the organs of life have been taken, and only the skeleton +remains. + +Nothing was left but long wooden ladders, down the Yarrow shaft—the +only one which now gave access to the lower galleries of the Dochart +pit. Above ground, the sheds, formerly sheltering the outside works, +still marked the spot where the shaft of that pit had been sunk, it +being now abandoned, as were the other pits, of which the whole +constituted the mines of Aberfoyle. + +It was a sad day, when for the last time the workmen quitted the mine, +in which they had lived for so many years. The engineer, James Starr, +had collected the hundreds of workmen which composed the active and +courageous population of the mine. Overmen, brakemen, putters, +wastemen, barrowmen, masons, smiths, carpenters, outside and inside +laborers, women, children, and old men, all were collected in the great +yard of the Dochart pit, formerly heaped with coal from the mine. + +Many of these families had existed for generations in the mine of old +Aberfoyle; they were now driven to seek the means of subsistence +elsewhere, and they waited sadly to bid farewell to the engineer. + +James Starr stood upright, at the door of the vast shed in which he had +for so many years superintended the powerful machines of the shaft. +Simon Ford, the foreman of the Dochart pit, then fifty-five years of +age, and other managers and overseers, surrounded him. James Starr took +off his hat. The miners, cap in hand, kept a profound silence. This +farewell scene was of a touching character, not wanting in grandeur. + +“My friends,” said the engineer, “the time has come for us to separate. +The Aberfoyle mines, which for so many years have united us in a common +work, are now exhausted. All our researches have not led to the +discovery of a new vein, and the last block of coal has just been +extracted from the Dochart pit.” And in confirmation of his words, +James Starr pointed to a lump of coal which had been kept at the bottom +of a basket. + +“This piece of coal, my friends,” resumed James Starr, “is like the +last drop of blood which has flowed through the veins of the mine! We +shall keep it, as the first fragment of coal is kept, which was +extracted a hundred and fifty years ago from the bearings of Aberfoyle. +Between these two pieces, how many generations of workmen have +succeeded each other in our pits! Now, it is over! The last words which +your engineer will address to you are a farewell. You have lived in +this mine, which your hands have emptied. The work has been hard, but +not without profit for you. Our great family must disperse, and it is +not probable that the future will ever again unite the scattered +members. But do not forget that we have lived together for a long time, +and that it will be the duty of the miners of Aberfoyle to help each +other. Your old masters will not forget you either. When men have +worked together, they must never be stranger to each other again. We +shall keep our eye on you, and wherever you go, our recommendations +shall follow you. Farewell then, my friends, and may Heaven be with +you!” + +So saying, James Starr wrung the horny hand of the oldest miner, whose +eyes were dim with tears. Then the overmen of the different pits came +forward to shake hands with him, whilst the miners waved their caps, +shouting, “Farewell, James Starr, our master and our friend!” + +This farewell would leave a lasting remembrance in all these honest +hearts. Slowly and sadly the population quitted the yard. The black +soil of the roads leading to the Dochart pit resounded for the last +time to the tread of miners’ feet, and silence succeeded to the +bustling life which had till then filled the Aberfoyle mines. + +One man alone remained by James Starr. This was the overman, Simon +Ford. Near him stood a boy, about fifteen years of age, who for some +years already had been employed down below. + +James Starr and Simon Ford knew and esteemed each other well. “Good-by, +Simon,” said the engineer. + +“Good-by, Mr. Starr,” replied the overman, “let me add, till we meet +again!” + +“Yes, till we meet again. Ford!” answered James Starr. “You know that I +shall be always glad to see you, and talk over old times.” + +“I know that, Mr. Starr.” + +“My house in Edinburgh is always open to you.” + +“It’s a long way off, is Edinburgh!” answered the man shaking his head. +“Ay, a long way from the Dochart pit.” + +“A long way, Simon? Where do you mean to live?” + +“Even here, Mr. Starr! We’re not going to leave the mine, our good old +nurse, just because her milk is dried up! My wife, my boy, and myself, +we mean to remain faithful to her!” + +“Good-by then, Simon,” replied the engineer, whose voice, in spite of +himself, betrayed some emotion. + +“No, I tell you, it’s _till we meet again_, Mr. Starr, and not Just +‘good-by,’” returned the foreman. “Mark my words, Aberfoyle will see +you again!” + +The engineer did not try to dispel the man’s illusion. He patted +Harry’s head, again wrung the father’s hand, and left the mine. + +All this had taken place ten years ago; but, notwithstanding the wish +which the overman had expressed to see him again, during that time +Starr had heard nothing of him. It was after ten years of separation +that he got this letter from Simon Ford, requesting him to take without +delay the road to the old Aberfoyle colliery. + +A communication of an interesting nature, what could it be? Dochart +pit. Yarrow shaft! What recollections of the past these names brought +back to him! Yes, that was a fine time, that of work, of struggle,—the +best part of the engineer’s life. Starr re-read his letter. He pondered +over it in all its bearings. He much regretted that just a line more +had not been added by Ford. He wished he had not been quite so laconic. + +Was it possible that the old foreman had discovered some new vein? No! +Starr remembered with what minute care the mines had been explored +before the definite cessation of the works. He had himself proceeded to +the lowest soundings without finding the least trace in the soil, +burrowed in every direction. They had even attempted to find coal under +strata which are usually below it, such as the Devonian red sandstone, +but without result. James Starr had therefore abandoned the mine with +the absolute conviction that it did not contain another bit of coal. + +“No,” he repeated, “no! How is it possible that anything which could +have escaped my researches, should be revealed to those of Simon Ford. +However, the old overman must well know that such a discovery would be +the one thing in the world to interest me, and this invitation, which I +must keep secret, to repair to the Dochart pit!” James Starr always +came back to that. + +On the other hand, the engineer knew Ford to be a clever miner, +peculiarly endowed with the instinct of his trade. He had not seen him +since the time when the Aberfoyle colliery was abandoned, and did not +know either what he was doing or where he was living, with his wife and +his son. All that he now knew was, that a rendezvous had been appointed +him at the Yarrow shaft, and that Harry, Simon Ford’s son, was to wait +for him during the whole of the next day at the Callander station. + +“I shall go, I shall go!” said Starr, his excitement increasing as the +time drew near. + +Our worthy engineer belonged to that class of men whose brain is always +on the boil, like a kettle on a hot fire. In some of these brain +kettles the ideas bubble over, in others they just simmer quietly. Now +on this day, James Starr’s ideas were boiling fast. + +But suddenly an unexpected incident occurred. This was the drop of cold +water, which in a moment was to condense all the vapors of the brain. +About six in the evening, by the third post, Starr’s servant brought +him a second letter. This letter was enclosed in a coarse envelope, and +evidently directed by a hand unaccustomed to the use of a pen. James +Starr tore it open. It contained only a scrap of paper, yellowed by +time, and apparently torn out of an old copy book. + +On this paper was written a single sentence, thus worded: + +“It is useless for the engineer James Starr to trouble himself, Simon +Ford’s letter being now without object.” + +No signature. + + + + +CHAPTER II. +ON THE ROAD + + +The course of James Starr’s ideas was abruptly stopped, when he got +this second letter contradicting the first. + +“What does this mean?” said he to himself. He took up the torn +envelope, and examined it. Like the other, it bore the Aberfoyle +postmark. It had therefore come from the same part of the county of +Stirling. The old miner had evidently not written it. But, no less +evidently, the author of this second letter knew the overman’s secret, +since it expressly contradicted the invitation to the engineer to go to +the Yarrow shaft. + +Was it really true that the first communication was now without object? +Did someone wish to prevent James Starr from troubling himself either +uselessly or otherwise? Might there not be rather a malevolent +intention to thwart Ford’s plans? + +This was the conclusion at which James Starr arrived, after mature +reflection. The contradiction which existed between the two letters +only wrought in him a more keen desire to visit the Dochart pit. And +besides, if after all it was a hoax, it was well worth while to prove +it. Starr also thought it wiser to give more credence to the first +letter than to the second; that is to say, to the request of such a man +as Simon Ford, rather than to the warning of his anonymous +contradictor. + +“Indeed,” said he, “the fact of anyone endeavoring to influence my +resolution, shows that Ford’s communication must be of great +importance. To-morrow, at the appointed time, I shall be at the +rendezvous.” + +In the evening, Starr made his preparations for departure. As it might +happen that his absence would be prolonged for some days, he wrote to +Sir W. Elphiston, President of the Royal Institution, that he should be +unable to be present at the next meeting of the Society. He also wrote +to excuse himself from two or three engagements which he had made for +the week. Then, having ordered his servant to pack a traveling bag, he +went to bed, more excited than the affair perhaps warranted. + +The next day, at five o’clock, James Starr jumped out of bed, dressed +himself warmly, for a cold rain was falling, and left his house in the +Canongate, to go to Granton Pier to catch the steamer, which in three +hours would take him up the Forth as far as Stirling. + +For the first time in his life, perhaps, in passing along the +Canongate, he did _not turn to look at Holyrood_, the palace of the +former sovereigns of Scotland. He did not notice the sentinels who +stood before its gateways, dressed in the uniform of their Highland +regiment, tartan kilt, plaid and sporran complete. His whole thought +was to reach Callander where Harry Ford was supposedly awaiting him. + +The better to understand this narrative, it will be as well to hear a +few words on the origin of coal. During the geological epoch, when the +terrestrial spheroid was still in course of formation, a thick +atmosphere surrounded it, saturated with watery vapors, and copiously +impregnated with carbonic acid. The vapors gradually condensed in +diluvial rains, which fell as if they had leapt from the necks of +thousands of millions of seltzer water bottles. This liquid, loaded +with carbonic acid, rushed in torrents over a deep soft soil, subject +to sudden or slow alterations of form, and maintained in its semi-fluid +state as much by the heat of the sun as by the fires of the interior +mass. The internal heat had not as yet been collected in the center of +the globe. The terrestrial crust, thin and incompletely hardened, +allowed it to spread through its pores. This caused a peculiar form of +vegetation, such as is probably produced on the surface of the inferior +planets, Venus or Mercury, which revolve nearer than our earth around +the radiant sun of our system. + +The soil of the continents was covered with immense forests. Carbonic +acid, so suitable for the development of the vegetable kingdom, +abounded. The feet of these trees were drowned in a sort of immense +lagoon, kept continually full by currents of fresh and salt waters. +They eagerly assimilated to themselves the carbon which they, little by +little, extracted from the atmosphere, as yet unfit for the function of +life, and it may be said that they were destined to store it, in the +form of coal, in the very bowels of the earth. + +It was the earthquake period, caused by internal convulsions, which +suddenly modified the unsettled features of the terrestrial surface. +Here, an intumescence which was to become a mountain, there, an abyss +which was to be filled with an ocean or a sea. There, whole forests +sunk through the earth’s crust, below the unfixed strata, either until +they found a resting-place, such as the primitive bed of granitic rock, +or, settling together in a heap, they formed a solid mass. + +As the waters were contained in no bed, and were spread over every part +of the globe, they rushed where they liked, tearing from the +scarcely-formed rocks material with which to compose schists, +sandstones, and limestones. This the roving waves bore over the +submerged and now peaty forests, and deposited above them the elements +of rocks which were to superpose the coal strata. In course of time, +periods of which include millions of years, these earths hardened in +layers, and enclosed under a thick carapace of pudding-stone, schist, +compact or friable sandstone, gravel and stones, the whole of the +massive forests. + +And what went on in this gigantic crucible, where all this vegetable +matter had accumulated, sunk to various depths? A regular chemical +operation, a sort of distillation. All the carbon contained in these +vegetables had agglomerated, and little by little coal was forming +under the double influence of enormous pressure and the high +temperature maintained by the internal fires, at this time so close to +it. + +Thus there was one kingdom substituted for another in this slow but +irresistible reaction. The vegetable was transformed into a mineral. +Plants which had lived the vegetative life in all the vigor of first +creation became petrified. Some of the substances enclosed in this vast +herbal left their impression on the other more rapidly mineralized +products, which pressed them as an hydraulic press of incalculable +power would have done. + +Thus also shells, zoophytes, star-fish, polypi, spirifores, even fish +and lizards brought by the water, left on the yet soft coal their exact +likeness, “admirably taken off.” + +Pressure seems to have played a considerable part in the formation of +carboniferous strata. In fact, it is to its degree of power that are +due the different sorts of coal, of which industry makes use. Thus in +the lowest layers of the coal ground appears the anthracite, which, +being almost destitute of volatile matter, contains the greatest +quantity of carbon. In the higher beds are found, on the contrary, +lignite and fossil wood, substances in which the quantity of carbon is +infinitely less. Between these two beds, according to the degree of +pressure to which they have been subjected, are found veins of graphite +and rich or poor coal. It may be asserted that it is for want of +sufficient pressure that beds of peaty bog have not been completely +changed into coal. So then, the origin of coal mines, in whatever part +of the globe they have been discovered, is this: the absorption through +the terrestrial crust of the great forests of the geological period; +then, the mineralization of the vegetables obtained in the course of +time, under the influence of pressure and heat, and under the action of +carbonic acid. + +Now, at the time when the events related in this story took place, some +of the most important mines of the Scottish coal beds had been +exhausted by too rapid working. In the region which extends between +Edinburgh and Glasgow, for a distance of ten or twelve miles, lay the +Aberfoyle colliery, of which the engineer, James Starr, had so long +directed the works. For ten years these mines had been abandoned. No +new seams had been discovered, although the soundings had been carried +to a depth of fifteen hundred or even of two thousand feet, and when +James Starr had retired, it was with the full conviction that even the +smallest vein had been completely exhausted. + +Under these circumstances, it was plain that the discovery of a new +seam of coal would be an important event. Could Simon Ford’s +communication relate to a fact of this nature? This question James +Starr could not cease asking himself. Was he called to make conquest of +another corner of these rich treasure fields? Fain would he hope it was +so. + +The second letter had for an instant checked his speculations on this +subject, but now he thought of that letter no longer. Besides, the son +of the old overman was there, waiting at the appointed rendezvous. The +anonymous letter was therefore worth nothing. + +The moment the engineer set foot on the platform at the end of his +journey, the young man advanced towards him. + +“Are you Harry Ford?” asked the engineer quickly. + +“Yes, Mr. Starr.” + +“I should not have known you, my lad. Of course in ten years you have +become a man!” + +“I knew you directly, sir,” replied the young miner, cap in hand. “You +have not changed. You look just as you did when you bade us good-by in +the Dochart pit. I haven’t forgotten that day.” + +“Put on your cap, Harry,” said the engineer. “It’s pouring, and +politeness needn’t make you catch cold.” + +“Shall we take shelter anywhere, Mr. Starr?” asked young Ford. + +“No, Harry. The weather is settled. It will rain all day, and I am in a +hurry. Let us go on.” + +“I am at your orders,” replied Harry. + +“Tell me, Harry, is your father well?” + +“Very well, Mr. Starr.” + +“And your mother?” + +“She is well, too.” + +“Was it your father who wrote telling me to come to the Yarrow shaft?” + +“No, it was I.” + +“Then did Simon Ford send me a second letter to contradict the first?” +asked the engineer quickly. + +“No, Mr. Starr,” answered the young miner. + +“Very well,” said Starr, without speaking of the anonymous letter. +Then, continuing, “And can you tell me what you father wants with me?” + +“Mr. Starr, my father wishes to tell you himself.” + +“But you know what it is?” + +“I do, sir.” + +“Well, Harry, I will not ask you more. But let us get on, for I’m +anxious to see Simon Ford. By-the-bye, where does he live?” + +“In the mine.” + +“What! In the Dochart pit?” + +“Yes, Mr. Starr,” replied Harry. + +“Really! has your family never left the old mine since the cessation of +the works?” + +“Not a day, Mr. Starr. You know my father. It is there he was born, it +is there he means to die!” + +“I can understand that, Harry. I can understand that! His native mine! +He did not like to abandon it! And are you happy there?” + +“Yes, Mr. Starr,” replied the young miner, “for we love one another, +and we have but few wants.” + +“Well, Harry,” said the engineer, “lead the way.” + +And walking rapidly through the streets of Callander, in a few minutes +they had left the town behind them. + + + + +CHAPTER III. +THE DOCHART PIT + + +Harry Ford was a fine, strapping fellow of five and twenty. His grave +looks, his habitually passive expression, had from childhood been +noticed among his comrades in the mine. His regular features, his deep +blue eyes, his curly hair, rather chestnut than fair, the natural grace +of his person, altogether made him a fine specimen of a lowlander. +Accustomed from his earliest days to the work of the mine, he was +strong and hardy, as well as brave and good. Guided by his father, and +impelled by his own inclinations, he had early begun his education, and +at an age when most lads are little more than apprentices, he had +managed to make himself of some importance, a leader, in fact, among +his fellows, and few are very ignorant in a country which does all it +can to remove ignorance. Though, during the first years of his youth, +the pick was never out of Harry’s hand, nevertheless the young miner +was not long in acquiring sufficient knowledge to raise him into the +upper class of the miners, and he would certainly have succeeded his +father as overman of the Dochart pit, if the colliery had not been +abandoned. + +James Starr was still a good walker, yet he could not easily have kept +up with his guide, if the latter had not slackened his pace. The young +man, carrying the engineer’s bag, followed the left bank of the river +for about a mile. Leaving its winding course, they took a road under +tall, dripping trees. Wide fields lay on either side, around isolated +farms. In one field a herd of hornless cows were quietly grazing; in +another sheep with silky wool, like those in a child’s toy sheep fold. + +The Yarrow shaft was situated four miles from Callander. Whilst +walking, James Starr could not but be struck with the change in the +country. He had not seen it since the day when the last ton of +Aberfoyle coal had been emptied into railway trucks to be sent to +Glasgow. Agricultural life had now taken the place of the more +stirring, active, industrial life. The contrast was all the greater +because, during winter, field work is at a standstill. But formerly, at +whatever season, the mining population, above and below ground, filled +the scene with animation. Great wagons of coal used to be passing night +and day. The rails, with their rotten sleepers, now disused, were then +constantly ground by the weight of wagons. Now stony roads took the +place of the old mining tramways. James Starr felt as if he was +traversing a desert. + +The engineer gazed about him with a saddened eye. He stopped now and +then to take breath. He listened. The air was no longer filled with +distant whistlings and the panting of engines. None of those black +vapors which the manufacturer loves to see, hung in the horizon, +mingling with the clouds. No tall cylindrical or prismatic chimney +vomited out smoke, after being fed from the mine itself; no blast-pipe +was puffing out its white vapor. The ground, formerly black with coal +dust, had a bright look, to which James Starr’s eyes were not +accustomed. + +When the engineer stood still, Harry Ford stopped also. The young miner +waited in silence. He felt what was passing in his companion’s mind, +and he shared his feelings; he, a child of the mine, whose whole life +had been passed in its depths. + +“Yes, Harry, it is all changed,” said Starr. “But at the rate we +worked, of course the treasures of coal would have been exhausted some +day. Do you regret that time?” + +“I do regret it, Mr. Starr,” answered Harry. “The work was hard, but it +was interesting, as are all struggles.” + +“No doubt, my lad. A continuous struggle against the dangers of +landslips, fires, inundations, explosions of firedamp, like claps of +thunder. One had to guard against all those perils! You say well! It +was a struggle, and consequently an exciting life.” + +“The miners of Alva have been more favored than the miners of +Aberfoyle, Mr. Starr!” + +“Ay, Harry, so they have,” replied the engineer. + +“Indeed,” cried the young man, “it’s a pity that all the globe was not +made of coal; then there would have been enough to last millions of +years!” + +“No doubt there would, Harry; it must be acknowledged, however, that +nature has shown more forethought by forming our sphere principally of +sandstone, limestone, and granite, which fire cannot consume.” + +“Do you mean to say, Mr. Starr, that mankind would have ended by +burning their own globe?” + +“Yes! The whole of it, my lad,” answered the engineer. “The earth would +have passed to the last bit into the furnaces of engines, machines, +steamers, gas factories; certainly, that would have been the end of our +world one fine day!” + +“There is no fear of that now, Mr. Starr. But yet, the mines will be +exhausted, no doubt, and more rapidly than the statistics make out!” + +“That will happen, Harry; and in my opinion England is very wrong in +exchanging her fuel for the gold of other nations! I know well,” added +the engineer, “that neither hydraulics nor electricity has yet shown +all they can do, and that some day these two forces will be more +completely utilized. But no matter! Coal is of a very practical use, +and lends itself easily to the various wants of industry. Unfortunately +man cannot produce it at will. Though our external forests grow +incessantly under the influence of heat and water, our subterranean +forests will not be reproduced, and if they were, the globe would never +be in the state necessary to make them into coal.” + +James Starr and his guide, whilst talking, had continued their walk at +a rapid pace. An hour after leaving Callander they reached the Dochart +pit. + +The most indifferent person would have been touched at the appearance +this deserted spot presented. It was like the skeleton of something +that had formerly lived. A few wretched trees bordered a plain where +the ground was hidden under the black dust of the mineral fuel, but no +cinders nor even fragments of coal were to be seen. All had been +carried away and consumed long ago. + +They walked into the shed which covered the opening of the Yarrow +shaft, whence ladders still gave access to the lower galleries of the +pit. The engineer bent over the opening. Formerly from this place could +be heard the powerful whistle of the air inhaled by the ventilators. It +was now a silent abyss. It was like being at the mouth of some extinct +volcano. + +When the mine was being worked, ingenious machines were used in certain +shafts of the Aberfoyle colliery, which in this respect was very well +off; frames furnished with automatic lifts, working in wooden slides, +oscillating ladders, called “man-engines,” which, by a simple movement, +permitted the miners to descend without danger. + +But all these appliances had been carried away, after the cessation of +the works. In the Yarrow shaft there remained only a long succession of +ladders, separated at every fifty feet by narrow landings. Thirty of +these ladders placed thus end to end led the visitor down into the +lower gallery, a depth of fifteen hundred feet. This was the only way +of communication which existed between the bottom of the Dochart pit +and the open air. As to air, that came in by the Yarrow shaft, from +whence galleries communicated with another shaft whose orifice opened +at a higher level; the warm air naturally escaped by this species of +inverted siphon. + +“I will follow you, my lad,” said the engineer, signing to the young +man to precede him. + +“As you please, Mr. Starr.” + +“Have you your lamp?” + +“Yes, and I only wish it was still the safety lamp, which we formerly +had to use!” + +“Sure enough,” returned James Starr, “there is no fear of fire-damp +explosions now!” + +Harry was provided with a simple oil lamp, the wick of which he +lighted. In the mine, now empty of coal, escapes of light carburetted +hydrogen could not occur. As no explosion need be feared, there was no +necessity for interposing between the flame and the surrounding air +that metallic screen which prevents the gas from catching fire. The +Davy lamp was of no use here. But if the danger did not exist, it was +because the cause of it had disappeared, and with this cause, the +combustible in which formerly consisted the riches of the Dochart pit. + +Harry descended the first steps of the upper ladder. Starr followed. +They soon found themselves in a profound obscurity, which was only +relieved by the glimmer of the lamp. The young man held it above his +head, the better to light his companion. A dozen ladders were descended +by the engineer and his guide, with the measured step habitual to the +miner. They were all still in good condition. + +James Starr examined, as well as the insufficient light would permit, +the sides of the dark shaft, which were covered by a partly rotten +lining of wood. + +Arrived at the fifteenth landing, that is to say, half way down, they +halted for a few minutes. + +“Decidedly, I have not your legs, my lad,” said the engineer, panting. + +“You are very stout, Mr. Starr,” replied Harry, “and it’s something +too, you see, to live all one’s life in the mine.” + +“Right, Harry. Formerly, when I was twenty, I could have gone down all +at a breath. Come, forward!” + +But just as the two were about to leave the platform, a voice, as yet +far distant, was heard in the depths of the shaft. It came up like a +sonorous billow, swelling as it advanced, and becoming more and more +distinct. + +“Halloo! who comes here?” asked the engineer, stopping Harry. + +“I cannot say,” answered the young miner. + +“Is it not your father?” + +“My father, Mr. Starr? no.” + +“Some neighbor, then?” + +“We have no neighbors in the bottom of the pit,” replied Harry. “We are +alone, quite alone.” + +“Well, we must let this intruder pass,” said James Starr. “Those who +are descending must yield the path to those who are ascending.” + +They waited. The voice broke out again with a magnificent burst, as if +it had been carried through a vast speaking trumpet; and soon a few +words of a Scotch song came clearly to the ears of the young miner. + +“The Hundred Pipers!” cried Harry. “Well, I shall be much surprised if +that comes from the lungs of any man but Jack Ryan.” + +“And who is this Jack Ryan?” asked James Starr. + +“An old mining comrade,” replied Harry. Then leaning from the platform, +“Halloo! Jack!” he shouted. + +“Is that you, Harry?” was the reply. “Wait a bit, I’m coming.” And the +song broke forth again. + +In a few minutes, a tall fellow of five and twenty, with a merry face, +smiling eyes, a laughing mouth, and sandy hair, appeared at the bottom +of the luminous cone which was thrown from his lantern, and set foot on +the landing of the fifteenth ladder. His first act was to vigorously +wring the hand which Harry extended to him. + +“Delighted to meet you!” he exclaimed. “If I had only known you were to +be above ground to-day, I would have spared myself going down the +Yarrow shaft!” + +“This is Mr. James Starr,” said Harry, turning his lamp towards the +engineer, who was in the shadow. + +“Mr. Starr!” cried Jack Ryan. “Ah, sir, I could not see. Since I left +the mine, my eyes have not been accustomed to see in the dark, as they +used to do.” + +“Ah, I remember a laddie who was always singing. That was ten years +ago. It was you, no doubt?” + +“Ay, Mr. Starr, but in changing my trade, I haven’t changed my +disposition. It’s far better to laugh and sing than to cry and whine!” + +“You’re right there, Jack Ryan. And what do you do now, as you have +left the mine?” + +“I am working on the Melrose farm, forty miles from here. Ah, it’s not +like our Aberfoyle mines! The pick comes better to my hand than the +spade or hoe. And then, in the old pit, there were vaulted roofs, to +merrily echo one’s songs, while up above ground!—But you are going to +see old Simon, Mr. Starr?” + +“Yes, Jack,” answered the engineer. + +“Don’t let me keep you then.” + +“Tell me, Jack,” said Harry, “what was taking you to our cottage +to-day?” + +“I wanted to see you, man,” replied Jack, “and ask you to come to the +Irvine games. You know I am the piper of the place. There will be +dancing and singing.” + +“Thank you, Jack, but it’s impossible.” + +“Impossible?” + +“Yes; Mr. Starr’s visit will last some time, and I must take him back +to Callander.” + +“Well, Harry, it won’t be for a week yet. By that time Mr. Starr’s +visit will be over, I should think, and there will be nothing to keep +you at the cottage.” + +“Indeed, Harry,” said James Starr, “you must profit by your friend +Jack’s invitation.” + +“Well, I accept it, Jack,” said Harry. “In a week we will meet at +Irvine.” + +“In a week, that’s settled,” returned Ryan. “Good-by, Harry! Your +servant, Mr. Starr. I am very glad to have seen you again! I can give +news of you to all my friends. No one has forgotten you, sir.” + +“And I have forgotten no one,” said Starr. + +“Thanks for all, sir,” replied Jack. + +“Good-by, Jack,” said Harry, shaking his hand. And Jack Ryan, singing +as he went, soon disappeared in the heights of the shaft, dimly lighted +by his lamp. + +A quarter of an hour afterwards James Starr and Harry descended the +last ladder, and set foot on the lowest floor of the pit. + +From the bottom of the Yarrow shaft radiated numerous empty galleries. +They ran through the wall of schist and sandstone, some shored up with +great, roughly-hewn beams, others lined with a thick casing of wood. In +every direction embankments supplied the place of the excavated veins. +Artificial pillars were made of stone from neighboring quarries, and +now they supported the ground, that is to say, the double layer of +tertiary and quaternary soil, which formerly rested on the seam itself. +Darkness now filled the galleries, formerly lighted either by the +miner’s lamp or by the electric light, the use of which had been +introduced in the mines. + +“Will you not rest a while, Mr. Starr?” asked the young man. + +“No, my lad,” replied the engineer, “for I am anxious to be at your +father’s cottage.” + +“Follow me then, Mr. Starr. I will guide you, and yet I daresay you +could find your way perfectly well through this dark labyrinth.” + +“Yes, indeed! I have the whole plan of the old pit still in my head.” + +Harry, followed by the engineer, and holding his lamp high the better +to light their way, walked along a high gallery, like the nave of a +cathedral. Their feet still struck against the wooden sleepers which +used to support the rails. + +They had not gone more than fifty paces, when a huge stone fell at the +feet of James Starr. “Take care, Mr. Starr!” cried Harry, seizing the +engineer by the arm. + +“A stone, Harry! Ah! these old vaultings are no longer quite secure, of +course, and—” + +“Mr. Starr,” said Harry Ford, “it seems to me that stone was thrown, +thrown as by the hand of man!” + +“Thrown!” exclaimed James Starr. “What do you mean, lad?” + +“Nothing, nothing, Mr. Starr,” replied Harry evasively, his anxious +gaze endeavoring to pierce the darkness. “Let us go on. Take my arm, +sir, and don’t be afraid of making a false step.” + +“Here I am, Harry.” And they both advanced, whilst Harry looked on +every side, throwing the light of his lamp into all the corners of the +gallery. + +“Shall we soon be there?” asked the engineer. + +“In ten minutes at most.” + +“Good.” + +“But,” muttered Harry, “that was a most singular thing. It is the first +time such an accident has happened to me. + +“That stone falling just at the moment we were passing.” + +“Harry, it was a mere chance.” + +“Chance,” replied the young man, shaking his head. “Yes, chance.” He +stopped and listened. + +“What is the matter, Harry?” asked the engineer. + +“I thought I heard someone walking behind us,” replied the young miner, +listening more attentively. Then he added, “No, I must have been +mistaken. Lean harder on my arm, Mr. Starr. Use me like a staff.” + +“A good solid staff, Harry,” answered James Starr. “I could not wish +for a better than a fine fellow like you.” + +They continued in silence along the dark nave. Harry was evidently +preoccupied, and frequently turned, trying to catch, either some +distant noise, or remote glimmer of light. + +But behind and before, all was silence and darkness. + + + + +CHAPTER IV. +THE FORD FAMILY + + +Ten minutes afterwards, James Starr and Harry issued from the principal +gallery. They were now standing in a glade, if we may use this word to +designate a vast and dark excavation. The place, however, was not +entirely deprived of daylight. A few rays straggled in through the +opening of a deserted shaft. It was by means of this pipe that +ventilation was established in the Dochart pit. Owing to its lesser +density, the warm air was drawn towards the Yarrow shaft. Both air and +light, therefore, penetrated in some measure into the glade. + +Here Simon Ford had lived with his family ten years, in a subterranean +dwelling, hollowed out in the schistous mass, where formerly stood the +powerful engines which worked the mechanical traction of the Dochart +pit. + +Such was the habitation, “his cottage,” as he called it, in which +resided the old overman. As he had some means saved during a long life +of toil, Ford could have afforded to live in the light of day, among +trees, or in any town of the kingdom he chose, but he and his wife and +son preferred remaining in the mine, where they were happy together, +having the same opinions, ideas, and tastes. Yes, they were quite fond +of their cottage, buried fifteen hundred feet below Scottish soil. +Among other advantages, there was no fear that tax gatherers, or rent +collectors would ever come to trouble its inhabitants. + +At this period, Simon Ford, the former overman of the Dochart pit, bore +the weight of sixty-five years well. Tall, robust, well-built, he would +have been regarded as one of the most conspicuous men in the district +which supplies so many fine fellows to the Highland regiments. + +Simon Ford was descended from an old mining family, and his ancestors +had worked the very first carboniferous seams opened in Scotland. +Without discussing whether or not the Greeks and Romans made use of +coal, whether the Chinese worked coal mines before the Christian era, +whether the French word for coal (_houille_) is really derived from the +farrier Houillos, who lived in Belgium in the twelfth century, we may +affirm that the beds in Great Britain were the first ever regularly +worked. So early as the eleventh century, William the Conqueror divided +the produce of the Newcastle bed among his companions-in-arms. At the +end of the thirteenth century, a license for the mining of “sea coal” +was granted by Henry III. Lastly, towards the end of the same century, +mention is made of the Scotch and Welsh beds. + +It was about this time that Simon Ford’s ancestors penetrated into the +bowels of Caledonian earth, and lived there ever after, from father to +son. They were but plain miners. They labored like convicts at the work +of extracting the precious combustible. It is even believed that the +coal miners, like the salt-makers of that period, were actual slaves. + +However that might have been, Simon Ford was proud of belonging to this +ancient family of Scotch miners. He had worked diligently in the same +place where his ancestors had wielded the pick, the crowbar, and the +mattock. At thirty he was overman of the Dochart pit, the most +important in the Aberfoyle colliery. He was devoted to his trade. +During long years he zealously performed his duty. His only grief had +been to perceive the bed becoming impoverished, and to see the hour +approaching when the seam would be exhausted. + +It was then he devoted himself to the search for new veins in all the +Aberfoyle pits, which communicated underground one with another. He had +had the good luck to discover several during the last period of the +working. His miner’s instinct assisted him marvelously, and the +engineer, James Starr, appreciated him highly. It might be said that he +divined the course of seams in the depths of the coal mine as a +hydroscope reveals springs in the bowels of the earth. He was _par +excellence_ the type of a miner whose whole existence is indissolubly +connected with that of his mine. He had lived there from his birth, and +now that the works were abandoned he wished to live there still. His +son Harry foraged for the subterranean housekeeping; as for himself, +during those ten years he had not been ten times above ground. + +“Go up there! What is the good?” he would say, and refused to leave his +black domain. The place was remarkably healthy, subject to an equable +temperature; the old overman endured neither the heat of summer nor the +cold of winter. His family enjoyed good health; what more could he +desire? + +But at heart he felt depressed. He missed the former animation, +movement, and life in the well-worked pit. He was, however, supported +by one fixed idea. “No, no! the mine is not exhausted!” he repeated. + +And that man would have given serious offense who could have ventured +to express before Simon Ford any doubt that old Aberfoyle would one day +revive! He had never given up the hope of discovering some new bed +which would restore the mine to its past splendor. Yes, he would +willingly, had it been necessary, have resumed the miner’s pick, and +with his still stout arms vigorously attacked the rock. He went through +the dark galleries, sometimes alone, sometimes with his son, examining, +searching for signs of coal, only to return each day, wearied, but not +in despair, to the cottage. + +Madge, Simon’s faithful companion, his “gude-wife,” to use the Scotch +term, was a tall, strong, comely woman. Madge had no wish to leave the +Dochart pit any more than had her husband. She shared all his hopes and +regrets. She encouraged him, she urged him on, and talked to him in a +way which cheered the heart of the old overman. “Aberfoyle is only +asleep,” she would say. “You are right about that, Simon. This is but a +rest, it is not death!” + +Madge, as well as the others, was perfectly satisfied to live +independent of the outer world, and was the center of the happiness +enjoyed by the little family in their dark cottage. + +The engineer was eagerly expected. Simon Ford was standing at his door, +and as soon as Harry’s lamp announced the arrival of his former viewer +he advanced to meet him. + +“Welcome, Mr. Starr!” he exclaimed, his voice echoing under the roof of +schist. “Welcome to the old overman’s cottage! Though it is buried +fifteen hundred feet under the earth, our house is not the less +hospitable.” + +“And how are you, good Simon?” asked James Starr, grasping the hand +which his host held out to him. + +“Very well, Mr. Starr. How could I be otherwise here, sheltered from +the inclemencies of the weather? Your ladies who go to Newhaven or +Portobello in the summer time would do much better to pass a few months +in the coal mine of Aberfoyle! They would run no risk here of catching +a heavy cold, as they do in the damp streets of the old capital.” + +“I’m not the man to contradict you, Simon,” answered James Starr, glad +to find the old man just as he used to be. “Indeed, I wonder why I do +not change my home in the Canongate for a cottage near you.” + +“And why not, Mr. Starr? I know one of your old miners who would be +truly pleased to have only a partition wall between you and him.” + +“And how is Madge?” asked the engineer. + +“The goodwife is in better health than I am, if that’s possible,” +replied Ford, “and it will be a pleasure to her to see you at her +table. I think she will surpass herself to do you honor.” + +“We shall see that, Simon, we shall see that!” said the engineer, to +whom the announcement of a good breakfast could not be indifferent, +after his long walk. + +“Are you hungry, Mr. Starr?” + +“Ravenously hungry. My journey has given me an appetite. I came through +horrible weather.” + +“Ah, it is raining up there,” responded Simon Ford. + +“Yes, Simon, and the waters of the Forth are as rough as the sea.” + +“Well, Mr. Starr, here it never rains. But I needn’t describe to you +all the advantages, which you know as well as myself. Here we are at +the cottage. That is the chief thing, and I again say you are welcome, +sir.” + +Simon Ford, followed by Harry, ushered their guest into the dwelling. +James Starr found himself in a large room lighted by numerous lamps, +one hanging from the colored beams of the roof. + +“The soup is ready, wife,” said Ford, “and it mustn’t be kept waiting +any more than Mr. Starr. He is as hungry as a miner, and he shall see +that our boy doesn’t let us want for anything in the cottage! +By-the-bye, Harry,” added the old overman, turning to his son, “Jack +Ryan came here to see you.” + +“I know, father. We met him in the Yarrow shaft.” + +“He’s an honest and a merry fellow,” said Ford; “but he seems to be +quite happy above ground. He hasn’t the true miner’s blood in his +veins. Sit down, Mr. Starr, and have a good dinner, for we may not sup +till late.” + +As the engineer and his hosts were taking their places: + +“One moment, Simon,” said James Starr. “Do you want me to eat with a +good appetite?” + +“It will be doing us all possible honor, Mr. Starr,” answered Ford. + +“Well, in order to eat heartily, I must not be at all anxious. Now I +have two questions to put to you.” + +“Go on, sir.” + +“Your letter told me of a communication which was to be of an +interesting nature.” + +“It is very interesting indeed.” + +“To you?” + +“To you and to me, Mr. Starr. But I do not want to tell it you until +after dinner, and on the very spot itself. Without that you would not +believe me.” + +“Simon,” resumed the engineer, “look me straight in the face. An +interesting communication? Yes. Good! I will not ask more,” he added, +as if he had read the reply in the old overman’s eyes. + +“And the second question?” asked the latter. + +“Do you know, Simon, who the person is who can have written this?” +answered the engineer, handing him the anonymous letter. + +Ford took the letter and read it attentively. Then giving it to his +son, “Do you know the writing?” he asked. + +“No, father,” replied Harry. + +“And had this letter the Aberfoyle postmark?” inquired Simon Ford. + +“Yes, like yours,” replied James Starr. + +“What do you think of that, Harry?” said his father, his brow +darkening. + +“I think, father,” returned Harry, “that someone has had some interest +in trying to prevent Mr. Starr from coming to the place where you +invited him.” + +“But who,” exclaimed the old miner, “who could have possibly guessed +enough of my secret?” And Simon fell into a reverie, from which he was +aroused by his wife. + +“Let us begin, Mr. Starr,” she said. “The soup is already getting cold. +Don’t think any more of that letter just now.” + +On the old woman’s invitation, each drew in his chair, James Starr +opposite to Madge—to do him honor—the father and son opposite to each +other. It was a good Scotch dinner. First they ate “hotchpotch,” soup +with the meat swimming in capital broth. As old Simon said, his wife +knew no rival in the art of preparing hotchpotch. It was the same with +the “cockyleeky,” a cock stewed with leeks, which merited high praise. +The whole was washed down with excellent ale, obtained from the best +brewery in Edinburgh. + +But the principal dish consisted of a “haggis,” the national pudding, +made of meat and barley meal. This remarkable dish, which inspired the +poet Burns with one of his best odes, shared the fate of all the good +things in this world—it passed away like a dream. + +Madge received the sincere compliments of her guest. The dinner ended +with cheese and oatcake, accompanied by a few small glasses of +“usquebaugh,” capital whisky, five and twenty years old—just Harry’s +age. The repast lasted a good hour. James Starr and Simon Ford had not +only eaten much, but talked much too, chiefly of their past life in the +old Aberfoyle mine. + +Harry had been rather silent. Twice he had left the table, and even the +house. He evidently felt uneasy since the incident of the stone, and +wished to examine the environs of the cottage. The anonymous letter had +not contributed to reassure him. + +Whilst he was absent, the engineer observed to Ford and his wife, +“That’s a fine lad you have there, my friends.” + +“Yes, Mr. Starr, he is a good and affectionate son,” replied the old +overman earnestly. + +“Is he happy with you in the cottage?” + +“He would not wish to leave us.” + +“Don’t you think of finding him a wife, some day?” + +“A wife for Harry,” exclaimed Ford. “And who would it be? A girl from +up yonder, who would love merry-makings and dancing, who would prefer +her clan to our mine! Harry wouldn’t do it!” + +“Simon,” said Madge, “you would not forbid that Harry should take a +wife.” + +“I would forbid nothing,” returned the old miner, “but there’s no hurry +about that. Who knows but we may find one for him—” + +Harry re-entered at that moment, and Simon Ford was silent. + +When Madge rose from the table, all followed her example, and seated +themselves at the door of the cottage. “Well, Simon,” said the +engineer, “I am ready to hear you.” + +“Mr. Starr,” responded Ford, “I do not need your ears, but your legs. +Are you quite rested?” + +“Quite rested and quite refreshed, Simon. I am ready to go with you +wherever you like.” + +“Harry,” said Simon Ford, turning to his son, “light our safety lamps.” + +“Are you going to take safety lamps!” exclaimed James Starr, in +amazement, knowing that there was no fear of explosions of fire-damp in +a pit quite empty of coal. + +“Yes, Mr. Starr, it will be prudent.” + +“My good Simon, won’t you propose next to put me in a miner’s dress?” + +“Not just yet, sir, not just yet!” returned the old overman, his +deep-set eyes gleaming strangely. + +Harry soon reappeared, carrying three safety lamps. He handed one of +these to the engineer, the other to his father, and kept the third +hanging from his left hand, whilst his right was armed with a long +stick. + +“Forward!” said Simon Ford, taking up a strong pick, which was leaning +against the wall of the cottage. + +“Forward!” echoed the engineer. “Good-by, Madge.” + +“_God_ speed you!” responded the good woman. + +“A good supper, wife, do you hear?” exclaimed Ford. “We shall be hungry +when we come back, and will do it justice!” + + + + +CHAPTER V. +SOME STRANGE PHENOMENA + + +Many superstitious beliefs exist both in the Highlands and Lowlands of +Scotland. Of course the mining population must furnish its contingent +of legends and fables to this mythological repertory. If the fields are +peopled with imaginary beings, either good or bad, with much more +reason must the dark mines be haunted to their lowest depths. Who +shakes the seam during tempestuous nights? who puts the miners on the +track of an as yet unworked vein? who lights the fire-damp, and +presides over the terrible explosions? who but some spirit of the mine? +This, at least, was the opinion commonly spread among the superstitious +Scotch. + +In the first rank of the believers in the supernatural in the Dochart +pit figured Jack Ryan, Harry’s friend. He was the great partisan of all +these superstitions. All these wild stories were turned by him into +songs, which earned him great applause in the winter evenings. + +But Jack Ryan was not alone in his belief. His comrades affirmed, no +less strongly, that the Aberfoyle pits were haunted, and that certain +strange beings were seen there frequently, just as in the Highlands. To +hear them talk, it would have been more extraordinary if nothing of the +kind appeared. Could there indeed be a better place than a dark and +deep coal mine for the freaks of fairies, elves, goblins, and other +actors in the fantastical dramas? The scenery was all ready, why should +not the supernatural personages come there to play their parts? + +So reasoned Jack Ryan and his comrades in the Aberfoyle mines. We have +said that the different pits communicated with each other by means of +long subterranean galleries. Thus there existed beneath the county of +Stirling a vast tract, full of burrows, tunnels, bored with caves, and +perforated with shafts, a subterranean labyrinth, which might be +compared to an enormous ant-hill. + +Miners, though belonging to different pits, often met, when going to or +returning from their work. Consequently there was a constant +opportunity of exchanging talk, and circulating the stories which had +their origin in the mine, from one pit to another. These accounts were +transmitted with marvelous rapidity, passing from mouth to mouth, and +gaining in wonder as they went. + +Two men, however, better educated and with more practical minds than +the rest, had always resisted this temptation. They in no degree +believed in the intervention of spirits, elves, or goblins. These two +were Simon Ford and his son. And they proved it by continuing to +inhabit the dismal crypt, after the desertion of the Dochart pit. +Perhaps good Madge, like every Highland woman, had some leaning towards +the supernatural. But she had to repeat all these stories to herself, +and so she did, most conscientiously, so as not to let the old +traditions be lost. + +Even had Simon and Harry Ford been as credulous as their companions, +they would not have abandoned the mine to the imps and fairies. For ten +years, without missing a single day, obstinate and immovable in their +convictions, the father and son took their picks, their sticks, and +their lamps. They went about searching, sounding the rock with a sharp +blow, listening if it would return a favor-able sound. So long as the +soundings had not been pushed to the granite of the primary formation, +the Fords were agreed that the search, unsuccessful to-day, might +succeed to-morrow, and that it ought to be resumed. They spent their +whole life in endeavoring to bring Aberfoyle back to its former +prosperity. If the father died before the hour of success, the son was +to go on with the task alone. + +It was during these excursions that Harry was more particularly struck +by certain phenomena, which he vainly sought to explain. Several times, +while walking along some narrow cross-alley, he seemed to hear sounds +similar to those which would be produced by violent blows of a pickax +against the wall. + +Harry hastened to seek the cause of this mysterious work. The tunnel +was empty. The light from the young miner’s lamp, thrown on the wall, +revealed no trace of any recent work with pick or crowbar. Harry would +then ask himself if it was not the effect of some acoustic illusion, or +some strange and fantastic echo. At other times, on suddenly throwing a +bright light into a suspicious-looking cleft in the rock, he thought he +saw a shadow. He rushed forward. Nothing, and there was no opening to +permit a human being to evade his pursuit! + +Twice in one month, Harry, whilst visiting the west end of the pit, +distinctly heard distant reports, as if some miner had exploded a +charge of dynamite. The second time, after many careful researches, he +found that a pillar had just been blown up. + +By the light of his lamp, Harry carefully examined the place attacked +by the explosion. It had not been made in a simple embankment of +stones, but in a mass of schist, which had penetrated to this depth in +the coal stratum. Had the object of the explosion been to discover a +new vein? Or had someone wished simply to destroy this portion of the +mine? Thus he questioned, and when he made known this occurrence to his +father, neither could the old overman nor he himself answer the +question in a satisfactory way. + +“It is very queer,” Harry often repeated. “The presence of an unknown +being in the mine seems impossible, and yet there can be no doubt about +it. Does someone besides ourselves wish to find out if a seam yet +exists? Or, rather, has he attempted to destroy what remains of the +Aberfoyle mines? But for what reason? I will find that out, if it +should cost me my life!” + +A fortnight before the day on which Harry Ford guided the engineer +through the labyrinth of the Dochart pit, he had been on the point of +attaining the object of his search. He was going over the southwest end +of the mine, with a large lantern in his hand. All at once, it seemed +to him that a light was suddenly extinguished, some hundred feet before +him, at the end of a narrow passage cut obliquely through the rock. He +darted forward. + +His search was in vain. As Harry would not admit a supernatural +explanation for a physical occurrence, he concluded that certainly some +strange being prowled about in the pit. But whatever he could do, +searching with the greatest care, scrutinizing every crevice in the +gallery, he found nothing for his trouble. + +If Jack Ryan and the other superstitious fellows in the mine had seen +these lights, they would, without fail, have called them supernatural, +but Harry did not dream of doing so, nor did his father. And when they +talked over these phenomena, evidently due to a physical cause, “My +lad,” the old man would say, “we must wait. It will all be explained +some day.” + +However, it must be observed that, hitherto, neither Harry nor his +father had ever been exposed to any act of violence. If the stone which +had fallen at the feet of James Starr had been thrown by the hand of +some ill-disposed person, it was the first criminal act of that +description. + +James Starr was of opinion that the stone had become detached from the +roof of the gallery; but Harry would not admit of such a simple +explanation. According to him, the stone had not fallen, it had been +thrown; for otherwise, without rebounding, it could never have +described a trajectory as it did. + +Harry saw in it a direct attempt against himself and his father, or +even against the engineer. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. +SIMON FORD’S EXPERIMENT + + +The old clock in the cottage struck one as James Starr and his two +companions went out. A dim light penetrated through the ventilating +shaft into the glade. Harry’s lamp was not necessary here, but it would +very soon be of use, for the old overman was about to conduct the +engineer to the very end of the Dochart pit. + +After following the principal gallery for a distance of two miles, the +three explorers—for, as will be seen, this was a regular +exploration—arrived at the entrance of a narrow tunnel. It was like a +nave, the roof of which rested on woodwork, covered with white moss. It +followed very nearly the line traced by the course of the river Forth, +fifteen hundred feet above. + +“So we are going to the end of the last vein?” said James Starr. + +“Ay! You know the mine well still.” + +“Well, Simon,” returned the engineer, “it will be difficult to go +further than that, if I don’t mistake.” + +“Yes, indeed, Mr. Starr. That was where our picks tore out the last bit +of coal in the seam. I remember it as if it were yesterday. I myself +gave that last blow, and it re-echoed in my heart more dismally than on +the rock. Only sandstone and schist were round us after that, and when +the truck rolled towards the shaft, I followed, with my heart as full +as though it were a funeral. It seemed to me that the soul of the mine +was going with it.” + +The gravity with which the old man uttered these words impressed the +engineer, who was not far from sharing his sentiments. They were those +of the sailor who leaves his disabled vessel—of the proprietor who sees +the house of his ancestors pulled down. He pressed Ford’s hand; but now +the latter seized that of the engineer, and, wringing it: + +“That day we were all of us mistaken,” he exclaimed. “No! The old mine +was not dead. It was not a corpse that the miners abandoned; and I dare +to assert, Mr. Starr, that its heart beats still.” + +“Speak, Ford! Have you discovered a new vein?” cried the engineer, +unable to contain himself. “I know you have! Your letter could mean +nothing else.” + +“Mr. Starr,” said Simon Ford, “I did not wish to tell any man but +yourself.” + +“And you did quite right, Ford. But tell me how, by what signs, are you +sure?” + +“Listen, sir!” resumed Simon. “It is not a seam that I have found.” + +“What is it, then?” + +“Only positive proof that such a seam exists.” + +“And the proof?” + +“Could fire-damp issue from the bowels of the earth if coal was not +there to produce it?” + +“No, certainly not!” replied the engineer. “No coal, no fire-damp. No +effects without a cause.” + +“Just as no smoke without fire.” + +“And have you recognized the presence of light carburetted hydrogen?” + +“An old miner could not be deceived,” answered Ford. “I have met with +our old enemy, the fire-damp!” + +“But suppose it was another gas,” said Starr. “Firedamp is almost +without smell, and colorless. It only really betrays its presence by an +explosion.” + +“Mr. Starr,” said Simon Ford, “will you let me tell you what I have +done? Harry had once or twice observed something remarkable in his +excursions to the west end of the mine. Fire, which suddenly went out, +sometimes appeared along the face of the rock or on the embankment of +the further galleries. How those flames were lighted, I could not and +cannot say. But they were evidently owing to the presence of fire-damp, +and to me fire-damp means a vein of coal.” + +“Did not these fires cause any explosion?” asked the engineer quickly. + +“Yes, little partial explosions,” replied Ford, “such as I used to +cause myself when I wished to ascertain the presence of fire-damp. Do +you remember how formerly it was the custom to try to prevent +explosions before our good genius, Humphry Davy, invented his +safety-lamp?” + +“Yes,” replied James Starr. “You mean what the ‘monk,’ as the men +called him, used to do. But I have never seen him in the exercise of +his duty.” + +“Indeed, Mr. Starr, you are too young, in spite of your five-and-fifty +years, to have seen that. But I, ten years older, often saw the last +‘monk’ working in the mine. He was called so because he wore a long +robe like a monk. His proper name was the ‘fireman.’ At that time there +was no other means of destroying the bad gas but by dispersing it in +little explosions, before its buoyancy had collected it in too great +quantities in the heights of the galleries. The monk, as we called him, +with his face masked, his head muffled up, all his body tightly wrapped +in a thick felt cloak, crawled along the ground. He could breathe down +there, when the air was pure; and with his right hand he waved above +his head a blazing torch. When the firedamp had accumulated in the air, +so as to form a detonating mixture, the explosion occurred without +being fatal, and, by often renewing this operation, catastrophes were +prevented. Sometimes the ‘monk’ was injured or killed in his work, then +another took his place. This was done in all mines until the Davy lamp +was universally adopted. But I knew the plan, and by its means I +discovered the presence of firedamp and consequently that of a new seam +of coal in the Dochart pit.” + +All that the old overman had related of the so-called “monk” or +“fireman” was perfectly true. The air in the galleries of mines was +formerly always purified in the way described. + +Fire-damp, marsh-gas, or carburetted hydrogen, is colorless, almost +scentless; it burns with a blue flame, and makes respiration +impossible. The miner could not live in a place filled with this +injurious gas, any more than one could live in a gasometer full of +common gas. Moreover, fire-damp, as well as the latter, a mixture of +inflammable gases, forms a detonating mixture as soon as the air unites +with it in a proportion of eight, and perhaps even five to the hundred. +When this mixture is lighted by any cause, there is an explosion, +almost always followed by a frightful catastrophe. + +As they walked on, Simon Ford told the engineer all that he had done to +attain his object; how he was sure that the escape of fire-damp took +place at the very end of the farthest gallery in its western part, +because he had provoked small and partial explosions, or rather little +flames, enough to show the nature of the gas, which escaped in a small +jet, but with a continuous flow. + +An hour after leaving the cottage, James Starr and his two companions +had gone a distance of four miles. The engineer, urged by anxiety and +hope, walked on without noticing the length of the way. He pondered +over all that the old miner had told him, and mentally weighed all the +arguments which the latter had given in support of his belief. He +agreed with him in thinking that the continued emission of carburetted +hydrogen certainly showed the existence of a new coal-seam. If it had +been merely a sort of pocket, full of gas, as it is sometimes found +amongst the rock, it would soon have been empty, and the phenomenon +have ceased. But far from that. According to Simon Ford, the fire-damp +escaped incessantly, and from that fact the existence of an important +vein might be considered certain. Consequently, the riches of the +Dochart pit were not entirely exhausted. The chief question now was, +whether this was merely a vein which would yield comparatively little, +or a bed occupying a large extent. + +Harry, who preceded his father and the engineer, stopped. + +“Here we are!” exclaimed the old miner. “At last, thank Heaven! you are +here, Mr. Starr, and we shall soon know.” The old overman’s voice +trembled slightly. + +“Be calm, my man!” said the engineer. “I am as excited as you are, but +we must not lose time.” + +The gallery at this end of the pit widened into a sort of dark cave. No +shaft had been pierced in this part, and the gallery, bored into the +bowels of the earth, had no direct communication with the surface of +the earth. + +James Starr, with intense interest, examined the place in which they +were standing. On the walls of the cavern the marks of the pick could +still be seen, and even holes in which the rock had been blasted, near +the termination of the working. The schist was excessively hard, and it +had not been necessary to bank up the end of the tunnel where the works +had come to an end. There the vein had failed, between the schist and +the tertiary sandstone. From this very place had been extracted the +last piece of coal from the Dochart pit. + +“We must attack the dyke,” said Ford, raising his pick; “for at the +other side of the break, at more or less depth, we shall assuredly find +the vein, the existence of which I assert.” + +“And was it on the surface of these rocks that you found out the +fire-damp?” asked James Starr. + +“Just there, sir,” returned Ford, “and I was able to light it only by +bringing my lamp near to the cracks in the rock. Harry has done it as +well as I.” + +“At what height?” asked Starr. + +“Ten feet from the ground,” replied Harry. + +James Starr had seated himself on a rock. After critically inhaling the +air of the cavern, he gazed at the two miners, almost as if doubting +their words, decided as they were. In fact, carburetted hydrogen is not +completely scentless, and the engineer, whose sense of smell was very +keen, was astonished that it had not revealed the presence of the +explosive gas. At any rate, if the gas had mingled at all with the +surrounding air, it could only be in a very small stream. There was no +danger of an explosion, and they might without fear open the safety +lamp to try the experiment, just as the old miner had done before. + +What troubled James Starr was, not lest too much gas mingled with the +air, but lest there should be little or none. + +“Could they have been mistaken?” he murmured. “No: these men know what +they are about. And yet—” + +He waited, not without some anxiety, until Simon Ford’s phenomenon +should have taken place. But just then it seemed that Harry, like +himself, had remarked the absence of the characteristic odor of +fire-damp; for he exclaimed in an altered voice, “Father, I should say +the gas was no longer escaping through the cracks!” + +“No longer!” cried the old miner—and, pressing his lips tight together, +he snuffed the air several times. + +Then, all at once, with a sudden movement, “Hand me your lamp, Harry,” +he said. + +Ford took the lamp with a trembling hand. He drew off the wire gauze +case which surrounded the wick, and the flame burned in the open air. + +As they had expected, there was no explosion, but, what was more +serious, there was not even the slight crackling which indicates the +presence of a small quantity of firedamp. Simon took the stick which +Harry was holding, fixed his lamp to the end of it, and raised it high +above his head, up to where the gas, by reason of its buoyancy, would +naturally accumulate. The flame of the lamp, burning straight and +clear, revealed no trace of the carburetted hydrogen. + +“Close to the wall,” said the engineer. + +“Yes,” responded Ford, carrying the lamp to that part of the wall at +which he and his son had, the evening before, proved the escape of gas. + +The old miner’s arm trembled whilst he tried to hoist the lamp up. +“Take my place, Harry,” said he. + +Harry took the stick, and successively presented the lamp to the +different fissures in the rock; but he shook his head, for of that +slight crackling peculiar to escaping fire-damp he heard nothing. There +was no flame. Evidently not a particle of gas was escaping through the +rock. + +“Nothing!” cried Ford, clenching his fist with a gesture rather of +anger than disappointment. + +A cry escaped Harry. + +“What’s the matter?” asked Starr quickly. + +“Someone has stopped up the cracks in the schist!” + +“Is that true?” exclaimed the old miner. + +“Look, father!” Harry was not mistaken. The obstruction of the fissures +was clearly visible by the light of the lamp. It had been recently done +with lime, leaving on the rock a long whitish mark, badly concealed +with coal dust. + +“It’s he!” exclaimed Harry. “It can only be he!” + +“He?” repeated James Starr in amazement. + +“Yes!” returned the young man, “that mysterious being who haunts our +domain, for whom I have watched a hundred times without being able to +get at him—the author, we may now be certain, of that letter which was +intended to hinder you from coming to see my father, Mr. Starr, and who +finally threw that stone at us in the gallery of the Yarrow shaft! Ah! +there’s no doubt about it; there is a man’s hand in all that!” + +Harry spoke with such energy that conviction came instantly and fully +to the engineer’s mind. As to the old overman, he was already +convinced. Besides, there they were in the presence of an undeniable +fact—the stopping-up of cracks through which gas had escaped freely the +night before. + +“Take your pick, Harry,” cried Ford; “mount on my shoulders, my lad! I +am still strong enough to bear you!” The young man understood in an +instant. His father propped himself up against the rock. Harry got upon +his shoulders, so that with his pick he could reach the line of the +fissure. Then with quick sharp blows he attacked it. Almost directly +afterwards a slight sound was heard, like champagne escaping from a +bottle—a sound commonly expressed by the word “puff.” + +Harry again seized his lamp, and held it to the opening. There was a +slight report; and a little red flame, rather blue at its outline, +flickered over the rock like a Will-o’-the-Wisp. + +Harry leaped to the ground, and the old overman, unable to contain his +joy, grasped the engineer’s hands, exclaiming, “Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah! +Mr. Starr. The fire-damp burns! the vein is there!” + + + + +CHAPTER VII. +NEW ABERFOYLE + + +The old overman’s experiment had succeeded. Firedamp, it is well known, +is only generated in coal seams; therefore the existence of a vein of +precious combustible could no longer be doubted. As to its size and +quality, that must be determined later. + +“Yes,” thought James Starr, “behind that wall lies a carboniferous bed, +undiscovered by our soundings. It is vexatious that all the apparatus +of the mine, deserted for ten years, must be set up anew. Never mind. +We have found the vein which was thought to be exhausted, and this time +it shall be worked to the end!” + +“Well, Mr. Starr,” asked Ford, “what do you think of our discovery? Was +I wrong to trouble you? Are you sorry to have paid this visit to the +Dochart pit?” + +“No, no, my old friend!” answered Starr. “We have not lost our time; +but we shall be losing it now, if we do not return immediately to the +cottage. To-morrow we will come back here. We will blast this wall with +dynamite. We will lay open the new vein, and after a series of +soundings, if the seam appears to be large, I will form a new Aberfoyle +Company, to the great satisfaction of the old shareholders. Before +three months have passed, the first corves full of coal will have been +taken from the new vein.” + +“Well said, sir!” cried Simon Ford. “The old mine will grow young +again, like a widow who remarries! The bustle of the old days will soon +begin with the blows of the pick, and mattock, blasts of powder, +rumbling of wagons, neighing of horses, creaking of machines! I shall +see it all again! I hope, Mr. Starr, that you will not think me too old +to resume my duties of overman?” + +“No, Simon, no indeed! You wear better than I do, my old friend!” + +“And, sir, you shall be our viewer again. May the new working last for +many years, and pray Heaven I shall have the consolation of dying +without seeing the end of it!” + +The old miner was overflowing with joy. James Starr fully entered into +it; but he let Ford rave for them both. Harry alone remained +thoughtful. To his memory recurred the succession of singular, +inexplicable circumstances attending the discovery of the new bed. It +made him uneasy about the future. + +An hour afterwards, James Starr and his two companions were back in the +cottage. The engineer supped with good appetite, listening with +satisfaction to all the plans unfolded by the old overman; and had it +not been for his excitement about the next day’s work, he would never +have slept better than in the perfect stillness of the cottage. + +The following day, after a substantial breakfast, James Starr, Simon +Ford, Harry, and even Madge herself, took the road already traversed +the day before. All looked like regular miners. They carried different +tools, and some dynamite with which to blast the rock. Harry, besides a +large lantern, took a safety lamp, which would burn for twelve hours. +It was more than was necessary for the journey there and back, +including the time for the working—supposing a working was possible. + +“To work! to work!” shouted Ford, when the party reached the further +end of the passage; and he grasped a heavy crowbar and brandished it. + +“Stop one instant,” said Starr. “Let us see if any change has taken +place, and if the fire-damp still escapes through the crevices.” + +“You are right, Mr. Starr,” said Harry. “Whoever stopped it up +yesterday may have done it again to-day!” + +Madge, seated on a rock, carefully observed the excavation, and the +wall which was to be blasted. + +It was found that everything was just as they left it. The crevices had +undergone no alteration; the carburetted hydrogen still filtered +through, though in a small stream, which was no doubt because it had +had a free passage since the day before. As the quantity was so small, +it could not have formed an explosive mixture with the air inside. +James Starr and his companions could therefore proceed in security. +Besides, the air grew purer by rising to the heights of the Dochart +pit; and the fire-damp, spreading through the atmosphere, would not be +strong enough to make any explosion. + +“To work, then!” repeated Ford; and soon the rock flew in splinters +under his skillful blows. The break was chiefly composed of +pudding-stone, interspersed with sandstone and schist, such as is most +often met with between the coal veins. James Starr picked up some of +the pieces, and examined them carefully, hoping to discover some trace +of coal. + +Starr having chosen the place where the holes were to be drilled, they +were rapidly bored by Harry. Some cartridges of dynamite were put into +them. As soon as the long, tarred safety match was laid, it was lighted +on a level with the ground. James Starr and his companions then went +off to some distance. + +“Oh! Mr. Starr,” said Simon Ford, a prey to agitation, which he did not +attempt to conceal, “never, no, never has my old heart beaten so quick +before! I am longing to get at the vein!” + +“Patience, Simon!” responded the engineer. “You don’t mean to say that +you think you are going to find a passage all ready open behind that +dyke?” + +“Excuse me, sir,” answered the old overman; “but of course I think so! +If there was good luck in the way Harry and I discovered this place, +why shouldn’t the good luck go on?” + +As he spoke, came the explosion. A sound as of thunder rolled through +the labyrinth of subterranean galleries. Starr, Madge, Harry, and Simon +Ford hastened towards the spot. + +“Mr. Starr! Mr. Starr!” shouted the overman. “Look! the door is broken +open!” + +Ford’s comparison was justified by the appearance of an excavation, the +depth of which could not be calculated. Harry was about to spring +through the opening; but the engineer, though excessively surprised to +find this cavity, held him back. “Allow time for the air in there to +get pure,” said he. + +“Yes! beware of the foul air!” said Simon. + +A quarter of an hour was passed in anxious waiting. The lantern was +then fastened to the end of a stick, and introduced into the cave, +where it continued to burn with unaltered brilliancy. “Now then, Harry, +go,” said Starr, “and we will follow you.” + +The opening made by the dynamite was sufficiently large to allow a man +to pass through. Harry, lamp in hand, entered unhesitatingly, and +disappeared in the darkness. His father, mother, and James Starr waited +in silence. A minute—which seemed to them much longer—passed. Harry did +not reappear, did not call. Gazing into the opening, James Starr could +not even see the light of his lamp, which ought to have illuminated the +dark cavern. + +Had the ground suddenly given way under Harry’s feet? Had the young +miner fallen into some crevice? Could his voice no longer reach his +companions? + +The old overman, dead to their remonstrances, was about to enter the +opening, when a light appeared, dim at first, but gradually growing +brighter, and Harry’s voice was heard shouting, “Come, Mr. Starr! come, +father! The road to New Aberfoyle is open!” + +If, by some superhuman power, engineers could have raised in a block, a +thousand feet thick, all that portion of the terrestrial crust which +supports the lakes, rivers, gulfs, and territories of the counties of +Stirling, Dumbarton, and Renfrew, they would have found, under that +enormous lid, an immense excavation, to which but one other in the +world can be compared—the celebrated Mammoth caves of Kentucky. This +excavation was composed of several hundred divisions of all sizes and +shapes. It might be called a hive with numberless ranges of cells, +capriciously arranged, but a hive on a vast scale, and which, instead +of bees, might have lodged all the ichthyosauri, megatheriums, and +pterodactyles of the geological epoch. + +A labyrinth of galleries, some higher than the most lofty cathedrals, +others like cloisters, narrow and winding—these following a horizontal +line, those on an incline or running obliquely in all +directions—connected the caverns and allowed free communication between +them. + +The pillars sustaining the vaulted roofs, whose curves allowed of every +style, the massive walls between the passages, the naves themselves in +this layer of secondary formation, were composed of sandstone and +schistous rocks. But tightly packed between these useless strata ran +valuable veins of coal, as if the black blood of this strange mine had +circulated through their tangled network. These fields extended forty +miles north and south, and stretched even under the Caledonian Canal. +The importance of this bed could not be calculated until after +soundings, but it would certainly surpass those of Cardiff and +Newcastle. + +We may add that the working of this mine would be singularly +facilitated by the fantastic dispositions of the secondary earths; for +by an unaccountable retreat of the mineral matter at the geological +epoch, when the mass was solidifying, nature had already multiplied the +galleries and tunnels of New Aberfoyle. + +Yes, nature alone! It might at first have been supposed that some works +abandoned for centuries had been discovered afresh. Nothing of the +sort. No one would have deserted such riches. Human termites had never +gnawed away this part of the Scottish subsoil; nature herself had done +it all. But, we repeat, it could be compared to nothing but the +celebrated Mammoth caves, which, in an extent of more than twenty +miles, contain two hundred and twenty-six avenues, eleven lakes, seven +rivers, eight cataracts, thirty-two unfathomable wells, and fifty-seven +domes, some of which are more than four hundred and fifty feet in +height. Like these caves, New Aberfoyle was not the work of men, but +the work of the Creator. + +Such was this new domain, of matchless wealth, the discovery of which +belonged entirely to the old overman. Ten years’ sojourn in the +deserted mine, an uncommon pertinacity in research, perfect faith, +sustained by a marvelous mining instinct—all these qualities together +led him to succeed where so many others had failed. Why had the +soundings made under the direction of James Starr during the last years +of the working stopped just at that limit, on the very frontier of the +new mine? That was all chance, which takes great part in researches of +this kind. + +However that might be, there was, under the Scottish subsoil, what +might be called a subterranean county, which, to be habitable, needed +only the rays of the sun, or, for want of that, the light of a special +planet. + +Water had collected in various hollows, forming vast ponds, or rather +lakes larger than Loch Katrine, lying just above them. Of course the +waters of these lakes had no movement of currents or tides; no old +castle was reflected there; no birch or oak trees waved on their banks. +And yet these deep lakes, whose mirror-like surface was never ruffled +by a breeze, would not be without charm by the light of some electric +star, and, connected by a string of canals, would well complete the +geography of this strange domain. + +Although unfit for any vegetable production, the place could be +inhabited by a whole population. And who knows but that in this steady +temperature, in the depths of the mines of Aberfoyle, as well as in +those of Newcastle, Alloa, or Cardiff—when their contents shall have +been exhausted—who knows but that the poorer classes of Great Britain +will some day find a refuge? + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. +EXPLORING + + +At Harry’s call, James Starr, Madge, and Simon Ford entered through the +narrow orifice which put the Dochart pit in communication with the new +mine. They found themselves at the beginning of a tolerably wide +gallery. One might well believe that it had been pierced by the hand of +man, that the pick and mattock had emptied it in the working of a new +vein. The explorers question whether, by a strange chance, they had not +been transported into some ancient mine, of the existence of which even +the oldest miners in the county had ever known. + +No! It was merely that the geological layers had left this passage when +the secondary earths were in course of formation. Perhaps some torrent +had formerly dashed through it; but now it was as dry as if it had been +cut some thousand feet lower, through granite rocks. At the same time, +the air circulated freely, which showed that certain natural vents +placed it in communication with the exterior atmosphere. + +This observation, made by the engineer, was correct, and it was evident +that the ventilation of the new mine would be easily managed. As to the +fire-damp which had lately filtered through the schist, it seemed to +have been contained in a pocket now empty, and it was certain that the +atmosphere of the gallery was quite free from it. However, Harry +prudently carried only the safety lamp, which would insure light for +twelve hours. + +James Starr and his companions now felt perfectly happy. All their +wishes were satisfied. There was nothing but coal around them. A sort +of emotion kept them silent; even Simon Ford restrained himself. His +joy overflowed, not in long phrases, but in short ejaculations. + +It was perhaps imprudent to venture so far into the crypt. Pooh! they +never thought of how they were to get back. + +The gallery was practicable, not very winding. They met with no noxious +exhalations, nor did any chasm bar the path. There was no reason for +stopping for a whole hour; James Starr, Madge, Harry, and Simon Ford +walked on, though there was nothing to show them what was the exact +direction of this unknown tunnel. + +And they would no doubt have gone farther still, if they had not +suddenly come to the end of the wide road which they had followed since +their entrance into the mine. + +The gallery ended in an enormous cavern, neither the height nor depth +of which could be calculated. At what altitude arched the roof of this +excavation—at what distance was its opposite wall—the darkness totally +concealed; but by the light of the lamp the explorers could discover +that its dome covered a vast extent of still water—pond or lake—whose +picturesque rocky banks were lost in obscurity. + +“Halt!” exclaimed Ford, stopping suddenly. “Another step, and perhaps +we shall fall into some fathomless pit.” + +“Let us rest awhile, then, my friends,” returned the engineer. +“Besides, we ought to be thinking of returning to the cottage.” + +“Our lamp will give light for another ten hours, sir,” said Harry. + +“Well, let us make a halt,” replied Starr; “I confess my legs have need +of a rest. And you, Madge, don’t you feel tired after so long a walk?” + +“Not over much, Mr. Starr,” replied the sturdy Scotchwoman; “we have +been accustomed to explore the old Aberfoyle mine for whole days +together.” + +“Tired? nonsense!” interrupted Simon Ford; “Madge could go ten times as +far, if necessary. But once more, Mr. Starr, wasn’t my communication +worth your trouble in coming to hear it? Just dare to say no, Mr. +Starr, dare to say no!” + +“Well, my old friend, I haven’t felt so happy for a long while!” +replied the engineer; “the small part of this marvelous mine that we +have explored seems to show that its extent is very considerable, at +least in length.” + +“In width and in depth, too, Mr. Starr!” returned Simon Ford. + +“That we shall know later.” + +“And I can answer for it! Trust to the instinct of an old miner! It has +never deceived me!” + +“I wish to believe you, Simon,” replied the engineer, smiling. “As far +as I can judge from this short exploration, we possess the elements of +a working which will last for centuries!” + +“Centuries!” exclaimed Simon Ford; “I believe you, sir! A thousand +years and more will pass before the last bit of coal is taken out of +our new mine!” + +“Heaven grant it!” returned Starr. “As to the quality of the coal which +crops out of these walls?” + +“Superb! Mr. Starr, superb!” answered Ford; “just look at it yourself!” + +And so saying, with his pick he struck off a fragment of the black +rock. + +“Look! look!” he repeated, holding it close to his lamp; “the surface +of this piece of coal is shining! We have here fat coal, rich in +bituminous matter; and see how it comes in pieces, almost without dust! +Ah, Mr. Starr! twenty years ago this seam would have entered into a +strong competition with Swansea and Cardiff! Well, stokers will quarrel +for it still, and if it costs little to extract it from the mine, it +will not sell at a less price outside.” + +“Indeed,” said Madge, who had taken the fragment of coal and was +examining it with the air of a connoisseur; “that’s good quality of +coal. Carry it home, Simon, carry it back to the cottage! I want this +first piece of coal to burn under our kettle.” + +“Well said, wife!” answered the old overman, “and you shall see that I +am not mistaken.” + +“Mr. Starr,” asked Harry, “have you any idea of the probable direction +of this long passage which we have been following since our entrance +into the new mine?” + +“No, my lad,” replied the engineer; “with a compass I could perhaps +find out its general bearing; but without a compass I am here like a +sailor in open sea, in the midst of fogs, when there is no sun by which +to calculate his position.” + +“No doubt, Mr. Starr,” replied Ford; “but pray don’t compare our +position with that of the sailor, who has everywhere and always an +abyss under his feet! We are on firm ground here, and need never be +afraid of foundering.” + +“I won’t tease you, then, old Simon,” answered James Starr. “Far be it +from me even in jest to depreciate the New Aberfoyle mine by an unjust +comparison! I only meant to say one thing, and that is that we don’t +know where we are.” + +“We are in the subsoil of the county of Stirling, Mr. Starr,” replied +Simon Ford; “and that I assert as if—” + +“Listen!” said Harry, interrupting the old man. All listened, as the +young miner was doing. His ears, which were very sharp, had caught a +dull sound, like a distant murmur. His companions were not long in +hearing it themselves. It was above their heads, a sort of rolling +sound, in which though it was so feeble, the successive _crescendo_ and +_diminuendo_ could be distinctly heard. + +All four stood for some minutes, their ears on the stretch, without +uttering a word. All at once Simon Ford exclaimed, “Well, I declare! +Are trucks already running on the rails of New Aberfoyle?” + +“Father,” replied Harry, “it sounds to me just like the noise made by +waves rolling on the sea shore.” + +“We can’t be under the sea though!” cried the old overman. + +“No,” said the engineer, “but it is not impossible that we should be +under Loch Katrine.” + +“The roof cannot have much thickness just here, if the noise of the +water is perceptible.” + +“Very little indeed,” answered James Starr, “and that is the reason +this cavern is so huge.” + +“You must be right, Mr. Starr,” said Harry. + +“Besides, the weather is so bad outside,” resumed Starr, “that the +waters of the loch must be as rough as those of the Firth of Forth.” + +“Well! what does it matter after all?” returned Simon Ford; “the seam +won’t be any the worse because it is under a loch. It would not be the +first time that coal has been looked for under the very bed of the +ocean! When we have to work under the bottom of the Caledonian Canal, +where will be the harm?” + +“Well said, Simon,” cried the engineer, who could not restrain a smile +at the overman’s enthusiasm; “let us cut our trenches under the waters +of the sea! Let us bore the bed of the Atlantic like a strainer; let us +with our picks join our brethren of the United States through the +subsoil of the ocean! let us dig into the center of the globe if +necessary, to tear out the last scrap of coal.” + +“Are you joking, Mr. Starr?” asked Ford, with a pleased but slightly +suspicious look. + +“I joking, old man? no! but you are so enthusiastic that you carry me +away into the regions of impossibility! Come, let us return to the +reality, which is sufficiently beautiful; leave our picks here, where +we may find them another day, and let’s take the road back to the +cottage.” + +Nothing more could be done for the time. Later, the engineer, +accompanied by a brigade of miners, supplied with lamps and all +necessary tools, would resume the exploration of New Aberfoyle. It was +now time to return to the Dochart pit. The road was easy, the gallery +running nearly straight through the rock up to the orifice opened by +the dynamite, so there was no fear of their losing themselves. + +But as James Starr was proceeding towards the gallery Simon Ford +stopped him. + +“Mr. Starr,” said he, “you see this immense cavern, this subterranean +lake, whose waters bathe this strand at our feet? Well! it is to this +place I mean to change my dwelling, here I will build a new cottage, +and if some brave fellows will follow my example, before a year is over +there will be one town more inside old England.” + +James Starr, smiling approval of Ford’s plans, pressed his hand, and +all three, preceding Madge, re-entered the gallery, on their way back +to the Dochart pit. For the first mile no incident occurred. Harry +walked first, holding his lamp above his head. He carefully followed +the principal gallery, without ever turning aside into the narrow +tunnels which radiated to the right and left. It seemed as if the +returning was to be accomplished as easily as the going, when an +unexpected accident occurred which rendered the situation of the +explorers very serious. + +Just at a moment when Harry was raising his lamp there came a rush of +air, as if caused by the flapping of invisible wings. The lamp escaped +from his hands, fell on the rocky ground, and was broken to pieces. + +James Starr and his companions were suddenly plunged in absolute +darkness. All the oil of the lamp was spilt, and it was of no further +use. “Well, Harry,” cried his father, “do you want us all to break our +necks on the way back to the cottage?” + +Harry did not answer. He wondered if he ought to suspect the hand of a +mysterious being in this last accident? Could there possibly exist in +these depths an enemy whose unaccountable antagonism would one day +create serious difficulties? Had someone an interest in defending the +new coal field against any attempt at working it? In truth that seemed +absurd, yet the facts spoke for themselves, and they accumulated in +such a way as to change simple presumptions into certainties. + +In the meantime the explorers’ situation was bad enough. They had now, +in the midst of black darkness, to follow the passage leading to the +Dochart pit for nearly five miles. There they would still have an +hour’s walk before reaching the cottage. + +“Come along,” said Simon Ford. “We have no time to lose. We must grope +our way along, like blind men. There’s no fear of losing our way. The +tunnels which open off our road are only just like those in a molehill, +and by following the chief gallery we shall of course reach the opening +we got in at. After that, it is the old mine. We know that, and it +won’t be the first time that Harry and I have found ourselves there in +the dark. Besides, there we shall find the lamps that we left. Forward +then! Harry, go first. Mr. Starr, follow him. Madge, you go next, and I +will bring up the rear. Above everything, don’t let us get separated.” + +All complied with the old overman’s instructions. As he said, by +groping carefully, they could not mistake the way. It was only +necessary to make the hands take the place of the eyes, and to trust to +their instinct, which had with Simon Ford and his son become a second +nature. + +James Starr and his companions walked on in the order agreed. They did +not speak, but it was not for want of thinking. It became evident that +they had an adversary. But what was he, and how were they to defend +themselves against these mysteriously-prepared attacks? These +disquieting ideas crowded into their brains. However, this was not the +moment to get discouraged. + +Harry, his arms extended, advanced with a firm step, touching first one +and then the other side of the passage. + +If a cleft or side opening presented itself, he felt with his hand that +it was not the main way; either the cleft was too shallow, or the +opening too narrow, and he thus kept in the right road. + +In darkness through which the eye could not in the slightest degree +pierce, this difficult return lasted two hours. By reckoning the time +since they started, taking into consideration that the walking had not +been rapid, Starr calculated that he and his companions were near the +opening. In fact, almost immediately, Harry stopped. + +“Have we got to the end of the gallery?” asked Simon Ford. + +“Yes,” answered the young miner. + +“Well! have you not found the hole which connects New Aberfoyle with +the Dochart pit?” + +“No,” replied Harry, whose impatient hands met with nothing but a solid +wall. + +The old overman stepped forward, and himself felt the schistous rock. A +cry escaped him. + +Either the explorers had strayed from the right path on their return, +or the narrow orifice, broken in the rock by the dynamite, had been +recently stopped up. James Starr and his companions were prisoners in +New Aberfoyle. + + + + +CHAPTER IX. +THE FIRE-MAIDENS + + +A week after the events just related had taken place, James Starr’s +friends had become very anxious. The engineer had disappeared, and no +reason could be brought forward to explain his absence. They learnt, by +questioning his servant, that he had embarked at Granton Pier. But from +that time there were no traces of James Starr. Simon Ford’s letter had +requested secrecy, and he had said nothing of his departure for the +Aberfoyle mines. + +Therefore in Edinburgh nothing was talked of but the unaccountable +absence of the engineer. Sir W. Elphiston, the President of the Royal +Institution, communicated to his colleagues a letter which James Starr +had sent him, excusing himself from being present at the next meeting +of the society. Two or three others produced similar letters. But +though these documents proved that Starr had left Edinburgh—which was +known before—they threw no light on what had become of him. Now, on the +part of such a man, this prolonged absence, so contrary to his usual +habits, naturally first caused surprise, and then anxiety. + +A notice was inserted in the principal newspapers of the United Kingdom +relative to the engineer James Starr, giving a description of him and +the date on which he left Edinburgh; nothing more could be done but to +wait. The time passed in great anxiety. The scientific world of England +was inclined to believe that one of its most distinguished members had +positively disappeared. At the same time, when so many people were +thinking about James Starr, Harry Ford was the subject of no less +anxiety. Only, instead of occupying public attention, the son of the +old overman was the cause of trouble alone to the generally cheerful +mind of Jack Ryan. + +It may be remembered that, in their encounter in the Yarrow shaft, Jack +Ryan had invited Harry to come a week afterwards to the festivities at +Irvine. Harry had accepted and promised expressly to be there. Jack +Ryan knew, having had it proved by many circumstances, that his friend +was a man of his word. With him, a thing promised was a thing done. +Now, at the Irvine merry-making, nothing was wanting; neither song, nor +dance, nor fun of any sort—nothing but Harry Ford. + +The notice relative to James Starr, published in the papers, had not +yet been seen by Ryan. The honest fellow was therefore only worried by +Harry’s absence, telling himself that something serious could alone +have prevented him from keeping his promise. So, the day after the +Irvine games, Jack Ryan intended to take the railway from Glasgow and +go to the Dochart pit; and this he would have done had he not been +detained by an accident which nearly cost him his life. Something which +occurred on the night of the 12th of December was of a nature to +support the opinions of all partisans of the supernatural, and there +were many at Melrose Farm. + +Irvine, a little seaport of Renfrew, containing nearly seven thousand +inhabitants, lies in a sharp bend made by the Scottish coast, near the +mouth of the Firth of Clyde. The most ancient and the most famed ruins +on this part of the coast were those of this castle of Robert Stuart, +which bore the name of Dundonald Castle. + +At this period Dundonald Castle, a refuge for all the stray goblins of +the country, was completely deserted. It stood on the top of a high +rock, two miles from the town, and was seldom visited. Sometimes a few +strangers took it into their heads to explore these old historical +remains, but then they always went alone. The inhabitants of Irvine +would not have taken them there at any price. Indeed, several legends +were based on the story of certain “fire-maidens,” who haunted the old +castle. + +The most superstitious declared they had seen these fantastic creatures +with their own eyes. Jack Ryan was naturally one of them. It was a fact +that from time to time long flames appeared, sometimes on a broken +piece of wall, sometimes on the summit of the tower which was the +highest point of Dundonald Castle. + +Did these flames really assume a human shape, as was asserted? Did they +merit the name of fire-maidens, given them by the people of the coast? +It was evidently just an optical delusion, aided by a good deal of +credulity, and science could easily have explained the phenomenon. + +However that might be, these fire-maidens had the reputation of +frequenting the ruins of the old castle and there performing wild +strathspeys, especially on dark nights. Jack Ryan, bold fellow though +he was, would never have dared to accompany those dances with the music +of his bagpipes. + +“Old Nick is enough for them!” said he. “He doesn’t need me to complete +his infernal orchestra.” + +We may well believe that these strange apparitions frequently furnished +a text for the evening stories. Jack Ryan was ending the evening with +one of these. His auditors, transported into the phantom world, were +worked up into a state of mind which would believe anything. + +All at once shouts were heard outside. Jack Ryan stopped short in the +middle of his story, and all rushed out of the barn. The night was +pitchy dark. Squalls of wind and rain swept along the beach. Two or +three fishermen, their backs against a rock, the better to resist the +wind, were shouting at the top of their voices. + +Jack Ryan and his companions ran up to them. The shouts were, however, +not for the inhabitants of the farm, but to warn men who, without being +aware of it, were going to destruction. A dark, confused mass appeared +some way out at sea. It was a vessel whose position could be seen by +her lights, for she carried a white one on her foremast, a green on the +starboard side, and a red on the outside. She was evidently running +straight on the rocks. + +“A ship in distress?” said Ryan. + +“Ay,” answered one of the fishermen, “and now they want to tack, but +it’s too late!” + +“Do they want to run ashore?” said another. + +“It seems so,” responded one of the fishermen, “unless he has been +misled by some—” + +The man was interrupted by a yell from Jack. Could the crew have heard +it? At any rate, it was too late for them to beat back from the line of +breakers which gleamed white in the darkness. + +But it was not, as might be supposed, a last effort of Ryan’s to warn +the doomed ship. He now had his back to the sea. His companions turned +also, and gazed at a spot situated about half a mile inland. It was +Dundonald Castle. A long flame twisted and bent under the gale, on the +summit of the old tower. + +“The Fire-Maiden!” cried the superstitious men in terror. + +Clearly, it needed a good strong imagination to find any human likeness +in that flame. Waving in the wind like a luminous flag, it seemed +sometimes to fly round the tower, as if it was just going out, and a +moment after it was seen again dancing on its blue point. + +“The Fire-Maiden! the Fire-Maiden!” cried the terrified fishermen and +peasants. + +All was then explained. The ship, having lost her reckoning in the fog, +had taken this flame on the top of Dundonald Castle for the Irvine +light. She thought herself at the entrance of the Firth, ten miles to +the north, when she was really running on a shore which offered no +refuge. + +What could be done to save her, if there was still time? It was too +late. A frightful crash was heard above the tumult of the elements. The +vessel had struck. The white line of surf was broken for an instant; +she heeled over on her side and lay among the rocks. + +At the same time, by a strange coincidence, the long flame disappeared, +as if it had been swept away by a violent gust. Earth, sea, and sky +were plunged in complete darkness. + +“The Fire-Maiden!” shouted Ryan, for the last time, as the apparition, +which he and his companions believed supernatural, disappeared. But +then the courage of these superstitious Scotchmen, which had failed +before a fancied danger, returned in face of a real one, which they +were ready to brave in order to save their fellow-creatures. The +tempest did not deter them. As heroic as they had before been +credulous, fastening ropes round their waists, they rushed into the +waves to the aid of those on the wreck. + +Happily, they succeeded in their endeavors, although some—and bold Jack +Ryan was among the number—were severely wounded on the rocks. But the +captain of the vessel and the eight sailors who composed his crew were +hauled up, safe and sound, on the beach. + +The ship was the Norwegian brig _Motala_, laden with timber, and bound +for Glasgow. Of the _Motala_ herself nothing remained but a few spars, +washed up by the waves, and dashed among the rocks on the beach. + +Jack Ryan and three of his companions, wounded like himself, were +carried into a room of Melrose Farm, where every care was lavished on +them. Ryan was the most hurt, for when with the rope round his waist he +had rushed into the sea, the waves had almost immediately dashed him +back against the rocks. He was brought, indeed, very nearly lifeless on +to the beach. + +The brave fellow was therefore confined to bed for several days, to his +great disgust. However, as soon as he was given permission to sing as +much as he liked, he bore his trouble patiently, and the farm echoed +all day with his jovial voice. But from this adventure he imbibed a +more lively sentiment of fear with regard to brownies and other goblins +who amuse themselves by plaguing mankind, and he made them responsible +for the catastrophe of the Motala. It would have been vain to try and +convince him that the Fire-Maidens did not exist, and that the flame, +so suddenly appearing among the ruins, was but a natural phenomenon. No +reasoning could make him believe it. His companions were, if possible, +more obstinate than he in their credulity. According to them, one of +the Fire-Maidens had maliciously attracted the _Motala_ to the coast. +As to wishing to punish her, as well try to bring the tempest to +justice! The magistrates might order what arrests they pleased, but a +flame cannot be imprisoned, an impalpable being can’t be handcuffed. It +must be acknowledged that the researches which were ultimately made +gave ground, at least in appearance, to this superstitious way of +explaining the facts. + +The inquiry was made with great care. Officials came to Dundonald +Castle, and they proceeded to conduct a most vigorous search. The +magistrate wished first to ascertain if the ground bore any footprints, +which could be attributed to other than goblins’ feet. It was +impossible to find the least trace, whether old or new. Moreover, the +earth, still damp from the rain of the day before, would have preserved +the least vestige. + +The result of all this was, that the magistrates only got for their +trouble a new legend added to so many others—a legend which would be +perpetuated by the remembrance of the catastrophe of the _Motala_, and +indisputably confirm the truth of the apparition of the Fire-Maidens. + +A hearty fellow like Jack Ryan, with so strong a constitution, could +not be long confined to his bed. A few sprains and bruises were not +quite enough to keep him on his back longer than he liked. He had not +time to be ill. + +Jack, therefore, soon got well. As soon as he was on his legs again, +before resuming his work on the farm, he wished to go and visit his +friend Harry, and learn why he had not come to the Irvine merry-making. +He could not understand his absence, for Harry was not a man who would +willingly promise and not perform. It was unlikely, too, that the son +of the old overman had not heard of the wreck of the _Motala_, as it +was in all the papers. He must know the part Jack had taken in it, and +what had happened to him, and it was unlike Harry not to hasten to the +farm and see how his old chum was going on. + +As Harry had not come, there must have been something to prevent him. +Jack Ryan would as soon deny the existence of the Fire-Maidens as +believe in Harry’s indifference. + +Two days after the catastrophe Jack left the farm merily, feeling +nothing of his wounds. Singing in the fullness of his heart, he awoke +the echoes of the cliff, as he walked to the station of the railway, +which _via_ Glasgow would take him to Stirling and Callander. + +As he was waiting for his train, his attention was attracted by a bill +posted up on the walls, containing the following notice: + +“On the 4th of December, the engineer, James Starr, of Edinburgh, +embarked from Granton Pier, on board the _Prince of Wales_. He +disembarked the same day at Stirling. From that time nothing further +has been heard of him. + +“Any information concerning him is requested to be sent to the +President of the Royal Institution, Edinburgh.” + +Jack Ryan, stopping before one of these advertisements, read it twice +over, with extreme surprise. + +“Mr. Starr!” he exclaimed. “Why, on the 4th of December I met him with +Harry on the ladder of the Dochart pit! That was ten days ago! And he +has not been seen from that time! That explains why my chum didn’t come +to Irvine.” + +And without taking time to inform the President of the Royal +Institution by letter, what he knew relative to James Starr, Jack +jumped into the train, determining to go first of all to the Yarrow +shaft. There he would descend to the depths of the pit, if necessary, +to find Harry, and with him was sure to be the engineer James Starr. + +“They haven’t turned up again,” said he to himself. “Why? Has anything +prevented them? Could any work of importance keep them still at the +bottom of the mine? I must find out!” and Ryan, hastening his steps, +arrived in less than an hour at the Yarrow shaft. + +Externally nothing was changed. The same silence around. Not a living +creature was moving in that desert region. Jack entered the ruined shed +which covered the opening of the shaft. He gazed down into the dark +abyss—nothing was to be seen. He listened—nothing was to be heard. + +“And my lamp!” he exclaimed; “suppose it isn’t in its place!” The lamp +which Ryan used when he visited the pit was usually deposited in a +corner, near the landing of the topmost ladder. It had disappeared. + +“Here is a nuisance!” said Jack, beginning to feel rather uneasy. Then, +without hesitating, superstitious though he was, “I will go,” said he, +“though it’s as dark down there as in the lowest depths of the infernal +regions!” + +And he began to descend the long flight of ladders, which led down the +gloomy shaft. Jack Ryan had not forgotten his old mining habits, and he +was well acquainted with the Dochart pit, or he would scarcely have +dared to venture thus. He went very carefully, however. His foot tried +each round, as some of them were worm-eaten. A false step would entail +a deadly fall, through this space of fifteen hundred feet. He counted +each landing as he passed it, knowing that he could not reach the +bottom of the shaft until he had left the thirtieth. Once there, he +would have no trouble, so he thought, in finding the cottage, built, as +we have said, at the extremity of the principal passage. + +Jack Ryan went on thus until he got to the twenty-sixth landing, and +consequently had two hundred feet between him and the bottom. + +Here he put down his leg to feel for the first rung of the +twenty-seventh ladder. But his foot swinging in space found nothing to +rest on. He knelt down and felt about with his hand for the top of the +ladder. It was in vain. + +“Old Nick himself must have been down this way!” said Jack, not without +a slight feeling of terror. + +He stood considering for some time, with folded arms, and longing to be +able to pierce the impenetrable darkness. Then it occurred to him that +if he could not get down, neither could the inhabitants of the mine get +up. There was now no communication between the depths of the pit and +the upper regions. If the removal of the lower ladders of the Yarrow +shaft had been effected since his last visit to the cottage, what had +become of Simon Ford, his wife, his son, and the engineer? + +The prolonged absence of James Starr proved that he had not left the +pit since the day Ryan met with him in the shaft. How had the cottage +been provisioned since then? The food of these unfortunate people, +imprisoned fifteen hundred feet below the surface of the ground, must +have been exhausted by this time. + +All this passed through Jack’s mind, as he saw that by himself he could +do nothing to get to the cottage. He had no doubt but that +communication had been interrupted with a malevolent intention. At any +rate, the authorities must be informed, and that as soon as possible. +Jack Ryan bent forward from the landing. + +“Harry! Harry!” he shouted with his powerful voice. + +Harry’s name echoed and re-echoed among the rocks, and finally died +away in the depths of the shaft. + +Ryan rapidly ascended the upper ladders and returned to the light of +day. Without losing a moment he reached the Callander station, just +caught the express to Edinburgh, and by three o’clock was before the +Lord Provost. + +There his declaration was received. His account was given so clearly +that it could not be doubted. Sir William Elphiston, President of the +Royal Institution, and not only colleague, but a personal friend of +Starr’s, was also informed, and asked to direct the search which was to +be made without delay in the mine. Several men were placed at his +disposal, supplied with lamps, picks, long rope ladders, not forgetting +provisions and cordials. Then guided by Jack Ryan, the party set out +for the Aberfoyle mines. + +The same evening the expedition arrived at the opening of the Yarrow +shaft, and descended to the twenty-seventh landing, at which Jack Ryan +had been stopped a few hours previously. The lamps, fastened to long +ropes, were lowered down the shaft, and it was thus ascertained that +the four last ladders were wanting. + +As soon as the lamps had been brought up, the men fixed to the landing +a rope ladder, which unrolled itself down the shaft, and all descended +one after the other. Jack Ryan’s descent was the most difficult, for he +went first down the swinging ladders, and fastened them for the others. + +The space at the bottom of the shaft was completely deserted; but Sir +William was much surprised at hearing Jack Ryan exclaim, “Here are bits +of the ladders, and some of them half burnt!” + +“Burnt?” repeated Sir William. “Indeed, here sure enough are cinders +which have evidently been cold a long time!” + +“Do you think, sir,” asked Ryan, “that Mr. Starr could have had any +reason for burning the ladders, and thus breaking of communication with +the world?” + +“Certainly not,” answered Sir William Elphiston, who had become very +thoughtful. “Come, my lad, lead us to the cottage. There we shall +ascertain the truth.” + +Jack Ryan shook his head, as if not at all convinced. Then, taking a +lamp from the hands of one of the men, he proceeded with a rapid step +along the principal passage of the Dochart pit. The others all followed +him. + +In a quarter of an hour the party arrived at the excavation in which +stood Simon Ford’s cottage. There was no light in the window. Ryan +darted to the door, and threw it open. The house was empty. + +They examined all the rooms in the somber habitation. No trace of +violence was to be found. All was in order, as if old Madge had been +still there. There was even an ample supply of provisions, enough to +last the Ford family for several days. + +The absence of the tenants of the cottage was quite unaccountable. But +was it not possible to find out the exact time they had quitted it? +Yes, for in this region, where there was no difference of day or night, +Madge was accustomed to mark with a cross each day in her almanac. + +The almanac was pinned up on the wall, and there the last cross had +been made at the 6th of December; that is to say, a day after the +arrival of James Starr, to which Ryan could positively swear. It was +clear that on the 6th of December, ten days ago, Simon Ford, his wife, +son, and guest, had quitted the cottage. Could a fresh exploration of +the mine, undertaken by the engineer, account for such a long absence? +Certainly not. + +It was intensely dark all round. The lamps held by the men gave light +only just where they were standing. Suddenly Jack Ryan uttered a cry. +“Look there, there!” + +His finger was pointing to a tolerably bright light, which was moving +about in the distance. “After that light, my men!” exclaimed Sir +William. + +“It’s a goblin light!” said Ryan. “So what’s the use? We shall never +catch it.” + +The president and his men, little given to superstition, darted off in +the direction of the moving light. Jack Ryan, bravely following their +example, quickly overtook the head-most of the party. + +It was a long and fatiguing chase. The lantern seemed to be carried by +a being of small size, but singular agility. + +Every now and then it disappeared behind some pillar, then was seen +again at the end of a cross gallery. A sharp turn would place it out of +sight, and it seemed to have completely disappeared, when all at once +there would be the light as bright as ever. However, they gained very +little on it, and Ryan’s belief that they could never catch it seemed +far from groundless. + +After an hour of this vain pursuit Sir William Elphiston and his +companions had gone a long way in the southwest direction of the pit, +and began to think they really had to do with an impalpable being. Just +then it seemed as if the distance between the goblin and those who were +pursuing it was becoming less. Could it be fatigued, or did this +invisible being wish to entice Sir William and his companions to the +place where the inhabitants of the cottage had perhaps themselves been +enticed. It was hard to say. + +The men, seeing that the distance lessened, redoubled their efforts. +The light which had before burnt at a distance of more than two hundred +feet before them was now seen at less than fifty. The space continued +to diminish. The bearer of the lamp became partially visible. +Sometimes, when it turned its head, the indistinct profile of a human +face could be made out, and unless a sprite could assume bodily shape, +Jack Ryan was obliged to confess that here was no supernatural being. +Then, springing forward,— + +“Courage, comrades!” he exclaimed; “it is getting tired! We shall soon +catch it up now, and if it can talk as well as it can run we shall hear +a fine story.” + +But the pursuit had suddenly become more difficult. They were in +unknown regions of the mine; narrow passages crossed each other like +the windings of a labyrinth. The bearer of the lamp might escape them +as easily as possible, by just extinguishing the light and retreating +into some dark refuge. + +“And indeed,” thought Sir William, “if it wishes to avoid us, why does +it not do so?” + +Hitherto there had evidently been no intention to avoid them, but just +as the thought crossed Sir William’s mind the light suddenly +disappeared, and the party, continuing the pursuit, found themselves +before an extremely narrow natural opening in the schistous rocks. + +To trim their lamps, spring forward, and dart through the opening, was +for Sir William and his party but the work of an instant. But before +they had gone a hundred paces along this new gallery, much wider and +loftier than the former, they all stopped short. There, near the wall, +lay four bodies, stretched on the ground—four corpses, perhaps! + +“James Starr!” exclaimed Sir William Elphiston. + +“Harry! Harry!” cried Ryan, throwing himself down beside his friend. + +It was indeed the engineer, Madge, Simon, and Harry Ford who were lying +there motionless. But one of the bodies moved slightly, and Madge’s +voice was heard faintly murmuring, “See to the others! help them +first!” + +Sir William, Jack, and their companions endeavored to reanimate the +engineer and his friends by getting them to swallow a few drops of +brandy. They very soon succeeded. The unfortunate people, shut up in +that dark cavern for ten days, were dying of starvation. They must have +perished had they not on three occasions found a loaf of bread and a +jug of water set near them. No doubt the charitable being to whom they +owed their lives was unable to do more for them. + +Sir William wondered whether this might not have been the work of the +strange sprite who had allured them to the very spot where James Starr +and his companions lay. + +However that might be, the engineer, Madge, Simon, and Harry Ford were +saved. They were assisted to the cottage, passing through the narrow +opening which the bearer of the strange light had apparently wished to +point out to Sir William. This was a natural opening. The passage which +James Starr and his companions had made for themselves with dynamite +had been completely blocked up with rocks laid one upon another. + +So, then, whilst they had been exploring the vast cavern, the way back +had been purposely closed against them by a hostile hand. + + + + +CHAPTER X. +COAL TOWN + + +Three years after the events which have just been related, the +guide-books recommended as a “great attraction,” to the numerous +tourists who roam over the county of Stirling, a visit of a few hours +to the mines of New Aberfoyle. + +No mine in any country, either in the Old or New World, could present a +more curious aspect. + +To begin with, the visitor was transported without danger or fatigue to +a level with the workings, at fifteen hundred feet below the surface of +the ground. Seven miles to the southwest of Callander opened a slanting +tunnel, adorned with a castellated entrance, turrets and battlements. +This lofty tunnel gently sloped straight to the stupendous crypt, +hollowed out so strangely in the bowels of the earth. + +A double line of railway, the wagons being moved by hydraulic power, +plied from hour to hour to and from the village thus buried in the +subsoil of the county, and which bore the rather ambitious title of +Coal Town. + +Arrived in Coal Town, the visitor found himself in a place where +electricity played a principal part as an agent of heat and light. +Although the ventilation shafts were numerous, they were not sufficient +to admit much daylight into New Aberfoyle, yet it had abundance of +light. This was shed from numbers of electric discs; some suspended +from the vaulted roofs, others hanging on the natural pillars—all, +whether suns or stars in size, were fed by continuous currents produced +from electro-magnetic machines. When the hour of rest arrived, an +artificial night was easily produced all over the mine by disconnecting +the wires. + +Below the dome lay a lake of an extent to be compared to the Dead Sea +of the Mammoth caves—a deep lake whose transparent waters swarmed with +eyeless fish, and to which the engineer gave the name of Loch Malcolm. + +There, in this immense natural excavation, Simon Ford built his new +cottage, which he would not have exchanged for the finest house in +Prince’s Street, Edinburgh. This dwelling was situated on the shores of +the loch, and its five windows looked out on the dark waters, which +extended further than the eye could see. Two months later a second +habitation was erected in the neighborhood of Simon Ford’s cottage: +this was for James Starr. The engineer had given himself body and soul +to New Aberfoyle, and nothing but the most imperative necessity ever +caused him to leave the pit. There, then, he lived in the midst of his +mining world. + +On the discovery of the new field, all the old colliers had hastened to +leave the plow and harrow, and resume the pick and mattock. Attracted +by the certainty that work would never fail, allured by the high wages +which the prosperity of the mine enabled the company to offer for +labor, they deserted the open air for an underground life, and took up +their abode in the mines. + +The miners’ houses, built of brick, soon grew up in a picturesque +fashion; some on the banks of Loch Malcolm, others under the arches +which seemed made to resist the weight that pressed upon them, like the +piers of a bridge. So was founded Coal Town, situated under the eastern +point of Loch Katrine, to the north of the county of Stirling. It was a +regular settlement on the banks of Loch Malcolm. A chapel, dedicated to +St. Giles, overlooked it from the top of a huge rock, whose foot was +laved by the waters of the subterranean sea. + +When this underground town was lighted up by the bright rays thrown +from the discs, hung from the pillars and arches, its aspect was so +strange, so fantastic, that it justified the praise of the guide-books, +and visitors flocked to see it. + +It is needless to say that the inhabitants of Coal Town were proud of +their place. They rarely left their laboring village—in that imitating +Simon Ford, who never wished to go out again. The old overman +maintained that it always rained “up there,” and, considering the +climate of the United Kingdom, it must be acknowledged that he was not +far wrong. All the families in New Aberfoyle prospered well, having in +three years obtained a certain competency which they could never have +hoped to attain on the surface of the county. Dozens of babies, who +were born at the time when the works were resumed, had never yet +breathed the outer air. + +This made Jack Ryan remark, “It’s eighteen months since they were +weaned, and they have not yet seen daylight!” + +It may be mentioned here, that one of the first to run at the +engineer’s call was Jack Ryan. The merry fellow had thought it his duty +to return to his old trade. But though Melrose farm had lost singer and +piper it must not be thought that Jack Ryan sung no more. On the +contrary, the sonorous echoes of New Aberfoyle exerted their strong +lungs to answer him. + +Jack Ryan took up his abode in Simon Ford’s new cottage. They offered +him a room, which he accepted without ceremony, in his frank and hearty +way. Old Madge loved him for his fine character and good nature. She in +some degree shared his ideas on the subject of the fantastic beings who +were supposed to haunt the mine, and the two, when alone, told each +other stories wild enough to make one shudder—stories well worthy of +enriching the hyperborean mythology. + +Jack thus became the life of the cottage. He was, besides being a +jovial companion, a good workman. Six months after the works had begun, +he was made head of a gang of hewers. + +“That was a good work done, Mr. Ford,” said he, a few days after his +appointment. “You discovered a new field, and though you narrowly +escaped paying for the discovery with your life—well, it was not too +dearly bought.” + +“No, Jack, it was a good bargain we made that time!” answered the old +overman. “But neither Mr. Starr nor I have forgotten that to you we owe +our lives.” + +“Not at all,” returned Jack. “You owe them to your son Harry, when he +had the good sense to accept my invitation to Irvine.” + +“And not to go, isn’t that it?” interrupted Harry, grasping his +comrade’s hand. “No, Jack, it is to you, scarcely healed of your +wounds—to you, who did not delay a day, no, nor an hour, that we owe +our being found still alive in the mine!” + +“Rubbish, no!” broke in the obstinate fellow. “I won’t have that said, +when it’s no such thing. I hurried to find out what had become of you, +Harry, that’s all. But to give everyone his due, I will add that +without that unapproachable goblin—” + +“Ah, there we are!” cried Ford. “A goblin!” + +“A goblin, a brownie, a fairy’s child,” repeated Jack Ryan, “a cousin +of the Fire-Maidens, an Urisk, whatever you like! It’s not the less +certain that without it we should never have found our way into the +gallery, from which you could not get out.” + +“No doubt, Jack,” answered Harry. “It remains to be seen whether this +being was as supernatural as you choose to believe.” + +“Supernatural!” exclaimed Ryan. “But it was as supernatural as a +Will-o’-the-Wisp, who may be seen skipping along with his lantern in +his hand; you may try to catch him, but he escapes like a fairy, and +vanishes like a shadow! Don’t be uneasy, Harry, we shall see it again +some day or other!” + +“Well, Jack,” said Simon Ford, “Will-o’-the-Wisp or not, we shall try +to find it, and you must help us.” + +“You’ll get into a scrap if you don’t take care, Mr. Ford!” responded +Jack Ryan. + +“We’ll see about that, Jack!” + +We may easily imagine how soon this domain of New Aberfoyle became +familiar to all the members of the Ford family, but more particularly +to Harry. He learnt to know all its most secret ins and outs. He could +even say what point of the surface corresponded with what point of the +mine. He knew that above this seam lay the Firth of Clyde, that there +extended Loch Lomond and Loch Katrine. Those columns supported a spur +of the Grampian mountains. This vault served as a basement to +Dumbarton. Above this large pond passed the Balloch railway. Here ended +the Scottish coast. There began the sea, the tumult of which could be +distinctly heard during the equinoctial gales. Harry would have been a +first-rate guide to these natural catacombs, and all that Alpine guides +do on their snowy peaks in daylight he could have done in the dark mine +by the wonderful power of instinct. + +He loved New Aberfoyle. Many times, with his lamp stuck in his hat, did +he penetrate its furthest depths. He explored its ponds in a +skillfully-managed canoe. He even went shooting, for numerous birds had +been introduced into the crypt—pintails, snipes, ducks, who fed on the +fish which swarmed in the deep waters. Harry’s eyes seemed made for the +dark, just as a sailor’s are made for distances. But all this while +Harry felt irresistibly animated by the hope of finding the mysterious +being whose intervention, strictly speaking, had saved himself and his +friends. Would he succeed? He certainly would, if presentiments were to +be trusted; but certainly not, if he judged by the success which had as +yet attended his researches. + +The attacks directed against the family of the old overman, before the +discovery of New Aberfoyle, had not been renewed. + + + + +CHAPTER XI. +HANGING BY A THREAD + + +Although in this way the Ford family led a happy and contented life, +yet it was easy to see that Harry, naturally of a grave disposition, +became more and more quiet and reserved. Even Jack Ryan, with all his +good humor and usually infectious merriment, failed to rouse him to +gayety of manner. + +One Sunday—it was in the month of June—the two friends were walking +together on the shores of Loch Malcolm. Coal Town rested from labor. In +the world above, stormy weather prevailed. Violent rains fell, and dull +sultry vapors brooded over the earth; the atmosphere was most +oppressive. + +Down in Coal Town there was perfect calm; no wind, no rain. A soft and +pleasant temperature existed instead of the strife of the elements +which raged without. What wonder then, that excursionists from Stirling +came in considerable numbers to enjoy the calm fresh air in the +recesses of the mine? + +The electric discs shed a brilliancy of light which the British sun, +oftener obscured by fogs than it ought to be, might well envy. Jack +Ryan kept talking of these visitors, who passed them in noisy crowds, +but Harry paid very little attention to what he said. + +“I say, do look, Harry!” cried Jack. “See what numbers of people come +to visit us! Cheer up, old fellow! Do the honors of the place a little +better. If you look so glum, you’ll make all these outside folks think +you envy their life above-ground.” + +“Never mind me, Jack,” answered Harry. “You are jolly enough for two, +I’m sure; that’s enough.” + +“I’ll be hanged if I don’t feel your melancholy creeping over me +though!” exclaimed Jack. “I declare my eyes are getting quite dull, my +lips are drawn together, my laugh sticks in my throat; I’m forgetting +all my songs. Come, man, what’s the matter with you?” + +“You know well enough, Jack.” + +“What? the old story?” + +“Yes, the same thoughts haunt me.” + +“Ah, poor fellow!” said Jack, shrugging his shoulders. “If you would +only do like me, and set all the queer things down to the account of +the goblins of the mine, you would be easier in your mind.” + +“But, Jack, you know very well that these goblins exist only in your +imagination, and that, since the works here have been reopened, not a +single one has been seen.” + +“That’s true, Harry; but if no spirits have been seen, neither has +anyone else to whom you could attribute the extraordinary doings we +want to account for.” + +“I shall discover them.” + +“Ah, Harry! Harry! it’s not so easy to catch the spirits of New +Aberfoyle!” + +“I shall find out the spirits as you call them,” said Harry, in a tone +of firm conviction. + +“Do you expect to be able to punish them?” + +“Both punish and reward. Remember, if one hand shut us up in that +passage, another hand delivered us! I shall not soon forget that.” + +“But, Harry, how can we be sure that these two hands do not belong to +the same body?” + +“What can put such a notion in your head, Jack?” asked Harry. + +“Well, I don’t know. Creatures that live in these holes, Harry, don’t +you see? they can’t be made like us, eh?” + +“But they _are_ just like us, Jack.” + +“Oh, no! don’t say that, Harry! Perhaps some madman managed to get in +for a time.” + +“A madman! No madman would have formed such connected plans, or done +such continued mischief as befell us after the breaking of the +ladders.” + +“Well, but anyhow he has done no harm for the last three years, either +to you, Harry, or any of your people.” + +“No matter, Jack,” replied Harry; “I am persuaded that this malignant +being, whoever he is, has by no means given up his evil intentions. I +can hardly say on what I found my convictions. But at any rate, for the +sake of the new works, I must and will know who he is and whence he +comes.” + +“For the sake of the new works did you say?” asked Jack, considerably +surprised. + +“I said so, Jack,” returned Harry. “I may be mistaken, but, to me, all +that has happened proves the existence of an interest in this mine in +strong opposition to ours. Many a time have I considered the matter; I +feel almost sure of it. Just consider the whole series of inexplicable +circumstances, so singularly linked together. To begin with, the +anonymous letter, contradictory to that of my father, at once proves +that some man had become aware of our projects, and wished to prevent +their accomplishment. Mr. Starr comes to see us at the Dochart pit. No +sooner does he enter it with me than an immense stone is cast upon us, +and communication is interrupted by the breaking of the ladders in the +Yarrow shaft. We commence exploring. An experiment, by which the +existence of a new vein would be proved, is rendered impossible by +stoppage of fissures. Notwithstanding this, the examination is carried +out, the vein discovered. We return as we came, a prodigious gust of +air meets us, our lamp is broken, utter darkness surrounds us. +Nevertheless, we make our way along the gloomy passage until, on +reaching the entrance, we find it blocked up. There we were—imprisoned. +Now, Jack, don’t you see in all these things a malicious intention? Ah, +yes, believe me, some being hitherto invisible, but not supernatural, +as you will persist in thinking, was concealed in the mine. For some +reason, known only to himself, he strove to keep us out of it. _Was_ +there, did I say? I feel an inward conviction that he _is_ there still, +and probably prepares some terrible disaster for us. Even at the risk +of my life, Jack, I am resolved to discover him.” + +Harry spoke with an earnestness which strongly impressed his companion. +“Well, Harry,” said he, “if I am forced to agree with you in certain +points, won’t you admit that some kind fairy or brownie, by bringing +bread and water to you, was the means of—” + +“Jack, my friend,” interrupted Harry, “it is my belief that the +friendly person, whom you will persist in calling a spirit, exists in +the mine as certainly as the criminal we speak of, and I mean to seek +them both in the most distant recesses of the mine.” + +“But,” inquired Jack, “have you any possible clew to guide your +search?” + +“Perhaps I have. Listen to me! Five miles west of New Aberfoyle, under +the solid rock which supports Ben Lomond, there exists a natural shaft +which descends perpendicularly into the vein beneath. A week ago I went +to ascertain the depth of this shaft. While sounding it, and bending +over the opening as my plumb-line went down, it seemed to me that the +air within was agitated, as though beaten by huge wings.” + +“Some bird must have got lost among the lower galleries,” replied Jack. + +“But that is not all, Jack. This very morning I went back to the place, +and, listening attentively, I thought I could detect a sound like a +sort of groaning.” + +“Groaning!” cried Jack, “that must be nonsense; it was a current of +air—unless indeed some ghost—” + +“I shall know to-morrow what it was,” said Harry. + +“To-morrow?” answered Jack, looking at his friend. + +“Yes; to-morrow I am going down into that abyss.” + +“Harry! that will be a tempting of Providence.” + +“No, Jack, Providence will aid me in the attempt. Tomorrow, you and +some of our comrades will go with me to that shaft. I will fasten +myself to a long rope, by which you can let me down, and draw me up at +a given signal. I may depend upon you, Jack?” + +“Well, Harry,” said Jack, shaking his head, “I will do as you wish me; +but I tell you all the same, you are very wrong.” + +“Nothing venture nothing win,” said Harry, in a tone of decision. +“To-morrow morning, then, at six o’clock. Be silent, and farewell!” + +It must be admitted that Jack Ryan’s fears were far from groundless. +Harry would expose himself to very great danger, supposing the enemy he +sought for lay concealed at the bottom of the pit into which he was +going to descend. It did not seem likely that such was the case, +however. + +“Why in the world,” repeated Jack Ryan, “should he take all this +trouble to account for a set of facts so very easily and simply +explained by the supernatural intervention of the spirits of the mine?” + +But, notwithstanding his objections to the scheme, Jack Ryan and three +miners of his gang arrived next morning with Harry at the mouth of the +opening of the suspicious shaft. Harry had not mentioned his intentions +either to James Starr or to the old overman. Jack had been discreet +enough to say nothing. + +Harry had provided himself with a rope about 200 feet long. It was not +particularly thick, but very strong—sufficiently so to sustain his +weight. His friends were to let him down into the gulf, and his pulling +the cord was to be the signal to withdraw him. + +The opening into this shaft or well was twelve feet wide. A beam was +thrown across like a bridge, so that the cord passing over it should +hang down the center of the opening, and save Harry from striking +against the sides in his descent. + +He was ready. + +“Are you still determined to explore this abyss?” whispered Jack Ryan. + +“Yes, I am, Jack.” + +The cord was fastened round Harry’s thighs and under his arms, to keep +him from rocking. Thus supported, he was free to use both his hands. A +safety-lamp hung at his belt, also a large, strong knife in a leather +sheath. + +Harry advanced to the middle of the beam, around which the cord was +passed. Then his friends began to let him down, and he slowly sank into +the pit. As the rope caused him to swing gently round and round, the +light of his lamp fell in turns on all points of the side walls, so +that he was able to examine them carefully. These walls consisted of +pit coal, and so smooth that it would be impossible to ascend them. + +Harry calculated that he was going down at the rate of about a foot per +second, so that he had time to look about him, and be ready for any +event. + +During two minutes—that is to say, to the depth of about 120 feet, the +descent continued without any incident. + +No lateral gallery opened from the side walls of the pit, which was +gradually narrowing into the shape of a funnel. But Harry began to feel +a fresher air rising from beneath, whence he concluded that the bottom +of the pit communicated with a gallery of some description in the +lowest part of the mine. + +The cord continued to unwind. Darkness and silence were complete. If +any living being whatever had sought refuge in the deep and mysterious +abyss, he had either left it, or, if there, by no movement did he in +the slightest way betray his presence. + +Harry, becoming more suspicious the lower he got, now drew his knife +and held it in his right hand. At a depth of 180 feet, his feet touched +the lower point and the cord slackened and unwound no further. + +Harry breathed more freely for a moment. One of the fears he +entertained had been that, during his descent, the cord might be cut +above him, but he had seen no projection from the walls behind which +anyone could have been concealed. + +The bottom of the abyss was quite dry. Harry, taking the lamp from his +belt, walked round the place, and perceived he had been right in his +conjectures. + +An extremely narrow passage led aside out of the pit. He had to stoop +to look into it, and only by creeping could it be followed; but as he +wanted to see in which direction it led, and whether another abyss +opened from it, he lay down on the ground and began to enter it on +hands and knees. + +An obstacle speedily arrested his progress. He fancied he could +perceive by touching it, that a human body lay across the passage. A +sudden thrill of horror and surprise made him hastily draw back, but he +again advanced and felt more carefully. + +His senses had not deceived him; a body did indeed lie there; and he +soon ascertained that, although icy cold at the extremities, there was +some vital heat remaining. In less time than it takes to tell it, Harry +had drawn the body from the recess to the bottom of the shaft, and, +seizing his lamp, he cast its lights on what he had found, exclaiming +immediately, “Why, it is a child!” + +The child still breathed, but so very feebly that Harry expected it to +cease every instant. Not a moment was to be lost; he must carry this +poor little creature out of the pit, and take it home to his mother as +quickly as he could. He eagerly fastened the cord round his waist, +stuck on his lamp, clasped the child to his breast with his left arm, +and, keeping his right hand free to hold the knife, he gave the signal +agreed on, to have the rope pulled up. + +It tightened at once; he began the ascent. Harry looked around him with +redoubled care, for more than his own life was now in danger. + +For a few minutes all went well, no accident seemed to threaten him, +when suddenly he heard the sound of a great rush of air from beneath; +and, looking down, he could dimly perceive through the gloom a broad +mass arising until it passed him, striking him as it went by. + +It was an enormous bird—of what sort he could not see; it flew upwards +on mighty wings, then paused, hovered, and dashed fiercely down upon +Harry, who could only wield his knife in one hand. He defended himself +and the child as well as he could, but the ferocious bird seemed to aim +all its blows at him alone. Afraid of cutting the cord, he could not +strike it as he wished, and the struggle was prolonged, while Harry +shouted with all his might in hopes of making his comrades hear. + +He soon knew they did, for they pulled the rope up faster; a distance +of about eighty feet remained to be got over. The bird ceased its +direct attack, but increased the horror and danger of his situation by +rushing at the cord, clinging to it just out of his reach, and +endeavoring, by pecking furiously, to cut it. + +Harry felt overcome with terrible dread. One strand of the rope gave +way, and it made them sink a little. + +A shriek of despair escaped his lips. + +A second strand was divided, and the double burden now hung suspended +by only half the cord. + +Harry dropped his knife, and by a superhuman effort succeeded, at the +moment the rope was giving way, in catching hold of it with his right +hand above the cut made by the beak of the bird. But, powerfully as he +held it in his iron grasp, he could feel it gradually slipping through +his fingers. + +He might have caught it, and held on with both hands by sacrificing the +life of the child he supported in his left arm. The idea crossed him, +but was banished in an instant, although he believed himself quite +unable to hold out until drawn to the surface. For a second he closed +his eyes, believing they were about to plunge back into the abyss. + +He looked up once more; the huge bird had disappeared; his hand was at +the very extremity of the broken rope—when, just as his convulsive +grasp was failing, he was seized by the men, and with the child was +placed on the level ground. + +The fearful strain of anxiety removed, a reaction took place, and Harry +fell fainting into the arms of his friends. + + + + +CHAPTER XII. +NELL ADOPTED + + +A couple of hours later, Harry still unconscious, and the child in a +very feeble state, were brought to the cottage by Jack Ryan and his +companions. The old overman listened to the account of their +adventures, while Madge attended with the utmost care to the wants of +her son, and of the poor creature whom he had rescued from the pit. + +Harry imagined her a mere child, but she was a maiden of the age of +fifteen or sixteen years. + +She gazed at them with vague and wondering eyes; and the thin face, +drawn by suffering, the pallid complexion, which light could never have +tinged, and the fragile, slender figure, gave her an appearance at once +singular and attractive. Jack Ryan declared that she seemed to him to +be an uncommonly interesting kind of ghost. + +It must have been due to the strange and peculiar circumstances under +which her life hitherto had been led, that she scarcely seemed to +belong to the human race. Her countenance was of a very uncommon cast, +and her eyes, hardly able to bear the lamp-light in the cottage, +glanced around in a confused and puzzled way, as if all were new to +them. + +As this singular being reclined on Madge’s bed and awoke to +consciousness, as from a long sleep, the old Scotchwoman began to +question her a little. + +“What do they call you, my dear?” said she. + +“Nell,” replied the girl. + +“Do you feel anything the matter with you, Nell?” + +“I am hungry. I have eaten nothing since—since—” + +Nell uttered these few words like one unused to speak much. They were +in the Gaelic language, which was often spoken by Simon and his family. +Madge immediately brought her some food; she was evidently famished. It +was impossible to say how long she might have been in that pit. + +“How many days had you been down there, dearie?” inquired Madge. + +Nell made no answer; she seemed not to understand the question. + +“How many days, do you think?” + +“Days?” repeated Nell, as though the word had no meaning for her, and +she shook her head to signify entire want of comprehension. + +Madge took her hand, and stroked it caressingly. “How old are you, my +lassie?” she asked, smiling kindly at her. + +Nell shook her head again. + +“Yes, yes,” continued Madge, “how many years old?” + +“Years?” replied Nell. She seemed to understand that word no better +than days! Simon, Harry, Jack, and the rest, looked on with an air of +mingled compassion, wonder, and sympathy. The state of this poor thing, +clothed in a miserable garment of coarse woolen stuff, seemed to +impress them painfully. + +Harry, more than all the rest, seemed attracted by the very peculiarity +of this poor stranger. He drew near, took Nell’s hand from his mother, +and looked directly at her, while something like a smile curved her +lip. “Nell,” he said, “Nell, away down there—in the mine—were you all +alone?” + +“Alone! alone!” cried the girl, raising herself hastily. Her features +expressed terror; her eyes, which had appeared to soften as Harry +looked at her, became quite wild again. “Alone!” repeated she, +“alone!”—and she fell back on the bed, as though deprived of all +strength. + +“The poor bairn is too weak to speak to us,” said Madge, when she had +adjusted the pillows. “After a good rest, and a little more food, she +will be stronger. Come away, Simon and Harry, and all the rest of you, +and let her go to sleep.” So Nell was left alone, and in a very few +minutes slept profoundly. + +This event caused a great sensation, not only in the coal mines, but in +Stirlingshire, and ultimately throughout the kingdom. The strangeness +of the story was exaggerated; the affair could not have made more +commotion had they found the girl enclosed in the solid rock, like one +of those antediluvian creatures who have occasionally been released by +a stroke of the pickax from their stony prison. Nell became a +fashionable wonder without knowing it. Superstitious folks made her +story a new subject for legendary marvels, and were inclined to think, +as Jack Ryan told Harry, that Nell was the spirit of the mines. + +“Be it so, Jack,” said the young man; “but at any rate she is the good +spirit. It can have been none but she who brought us bread and water +when we were shut up down there; and as to the bad spirit, who must +still be in the mine, we’ll catch him some day.” + +Of course James Starr had been at once informed of all this, and came, +as soon as the young girl had sufficiently recovered her strength, to +see her, and endeavor to question her carefully. + +She appeared ignorant of nearly everything relating to life, and, +although evidently intelligent, was wanting in many elementary ideas, +such as time, for instance. She had never been used to its division, +and the words signifying hours, days, months, and years were unknown to +her. + +Her eyes, accustomed to the night, were pained by the glare of the +electric discs; but in the dark her sight was wonderfully keen, the +pupil dilated in a remarkable manner, and she could see where to others +there appeared profound obscurity. It was certain that her brain had +never received any impression of the outer world, that her eyes had +never looked beyond the mine, and that these somber depths had been all +the world to her. + +The poor girl probably knew not that there were a sun and stars, towns +and counties, a mighty universe composed of myriads of worlds. But +until she comprehended the significance of words at present conveying +no precise meaning to her, it was impossible to ascertain what she +knew. + +As to whether or not Nell had lived alone in the recesses of New +Aberfoyle, James Starr was obliged to remain uncertain; indeed, any +allusion to the subject excited evident alarm in the mind of this +strange girl. Either Nell could not or would not reply to questions, +but that some secret existed in connection with the place, which she +could have explained, was manifest. + +“Should you like to stay with us? Should you like to go back to where +we found you?” asked James Starr. + +“Oh, yes!” exclaimed the maiden, in answer to his first question; but a +cry of terror was all she seemed able to say to the second. + +James Starr, as well as Simon and Harry Ford, could not help feeling a +certain amount of uneasiness with regard to this persistent silence. +They found it impossible to forget all that had appeared so +inexplicable at the time they made the discovery of the coal mine; and +although that was three years ago, and nothing new had happened, they +always expected some fresh attack on the part of the invisible enemy. + +They resolved to explore the mysterious well, and did so, well armed +and in considerable numbers. But nothing suspicious was to be seen; the +shaft communicated with lower stages of the crypt, hollowed out in the +carboniferous bed. + +Many a time did James Starr, Simon, and Harry talk over these things. +If one or more malevolent beings were concealed in the coal-pit, and +there concocted mischief, Nell surely could have warned them of it, yet +she said nothing. The slightest allusion to her past life brought on +such fits of violent emotion, that it was judged best to avoid the +subject for the present. Her secret would certainly escape her +by-and-by. + +By the time Nell had been a fortnight in the cottage, she had become a +most intelligent and zealous assistant to old Madge. It was clear that +she instinctively felt she should remain in the dwelling where she had +been so charitably received, and perhaps never dreamt of quitting it. +This family was all in all to her, and to the good folks themselves +Nell had seemed an adopted child from the moment when she first came +beneath their roof. Nell was in truth a charming creature; her new mode +of existence added to her beauty, for these were no doubt the first +happy days of her life, and her heart was full of gratitude towards +those to whom she owed them. Madge felt towards her as a mother would; +the old woman doted upon her; in short, she was beloved by everybody. +Jack Ryan only regretted one thing, which was that he had not saved her +himself. Friend Jack often came to the cottage. He sang, and Nell, who +had never heard singing before, admired it greatly; but anyone might +see that she preferred to Jack’s songs the graver conversation of +Harry, from whom by degrees she learnt truths concerning the outer +world, of which hitherto she had known nothing. + +It must be said that, since Nell had appeared in her own person, Jack +Ryan had been obliged to admit that his belief in hobgoblins was in a +measure weakened. A couple of months later his credulity experienced a +further shock. About that time Harry unexpectedly made a discovery +which, in part at least, accounted for the apparition of the +fire-maidens among the ruins of Dundonald Castle at Irvine. + +During several days he had been engaged in exploring the remote +galleries of the prodigious excavation towards the south. At last he +scrambled with difficulty up a narrow passage which branched off +through the upper rock. To his great astonishment, he suddenly found +himself in the open air. The passage, after ascending obliquely to the +surface of the ground, led out directly among the ruins of Dundonald +Castle. + +There was, therefore, a communication between New Aberfoyle and the +hills crowned by this ancient castle. The upper entrance to this +gallery, being completely concealed by stones and brushwood, was +invisible from without; at the time of their search, therefore, the +magistrates had been able to discover nothing. + +A few days afterwards, James Starr, guided by Harry, came himself to +inspect this curious natural opening into the coal mine. “Well,” said +he, “here is enough to convince the most superstitious among us. +Farewell to all their brownies, goblins, and fire-maidens now!” + +“I hardly think, Mr. Starr, we ought to congratulate ourselves,” +replied Harry. “Whatever it is we have instead of these things, it +can’t be better, and may be worse than they are.” + +“That’s true, Harry,” said the engineer; “but what’s to be done? It is +plain that, whatever the beings are who hide in the mine, they reach +the surface of the earth by this passage. No doubt it was the light of +torches waved by them during that dark and stormy night which attracted +the _Motala_ towards the rocky coast, and like the wreckers of former +days, they would have plundered the unfortunate vessel, had it not been +for Jack Ryan and his friends. Anyhow, so far it is evident, and here +is the mouth of the den. As to its occupants, the question is—Are they +here still?” + +“I say yes; because Nell trembles when we mention them—yes, because +Nell will not, or dare not, speak about them,” answered Harry in a tone +of decision. + +Harry was surely in the right. Had these mysterious denizens of the pit +abandoned it, or ceased to visit the spot, what reason could the girl +have had for keeping silence? + +James Starr could not rest till he had penetrated this mystery. He +foresaw that the whole future of the new excavations must depend upon +it. Renewed and strict precautions were therefore taken. The +authorities were informed of the discovery of the entrance. Watchers +were placed among the ruins of the castle. Harry himself lay hid for +several nights in the thickets of brushwood which clothed the +hill-side. + +Nothing was discovered—no human being emerged from the opening. So most +people came to the conclusion that the villains had been finally +dislodged from the mine, and that, as to Nell, they must suppose her to +be dead at the bottom of the shaft where they had left her. + +While it remained unworked, the mine had been a safe enough place of +refuge, secure from all search or pursuit. But now, circumstances being +altered, it became difficult to conceal this lurking-place, and it +might reasonably be hoped they were gone, and that nothing for the +future was to be dreaded from them. + +James Starr, however, could not feel sure about it; neither could Harry +be satisfied on the subject, often repeating, “Nell has clearly been +mixed up with all this secret business. If she had nothing more to +fear, why should she keep silence? It cannot be doubted that she is +happy with us. She likes us all—she adores my mother. Her absolute +silence as to her former life, when by speaking out she might benefit +us, proves to me that some awful secret, which she dares not reveal, +weighs on her mind. It may also be that she believes it better for us, +as well as for herself, that she should remain mute in a way otherwise +so unaccountable.” + +In consequence of these opinions, it was agreed by common consent to +avoid all allusion to the maiden’s former mode of life. One day, +however, Harry was led to make known to Nell what James Starr, his +father, mother, and himself believed they owed to her interference. + +It was a fête-day. The miners made holiday on the surface of the county +of Stirling as well as in its subterraneous domains. Parties of +holiday-makers were moving about in all directions. Songs resounded in +many places beneath the sonorous vaults of New Aberfoyle. Harry and +Nell left the cottage, and slowly walked along the left bank of Loch +Malcolm. + +Then the electric brilliance darted less vividly, and the rays were +interrupted with fantastic effect by the sharp angles of the +picturesque rocks which supported the dome. This imperfect light suited +Nell, to whose eyes a glare was very unpleasant. + +“Nell,” said Harry, “your eyes are not fit for daylight yet, and could +not bear the brightness of the sun.” + +“Indeed they could not,” replied the girl; “if the sun is such as you +describe it to me, Harry.” + +“I cannot by any words, Nell, give you an idea either of his splendor +or of the beauty of that universe which your eyes have never beheld. +But tell me, is it really possible that, since the day when you were +born in the depths of the coal mine, you never once have been up to the +surface of the earth?” + +“Never once, Harry,” said she; “I do not believe that, even as an +infant, my father or mother ever carried me thither. I am sure I should +have retained some impression of the open air if they had.” + +“I believe you would,” answered Harry. “Long ago, Nell, many children +used to live altogether in the mine; communication was then difficult, +and I have met with more than one young person, quite as ignorant as +you are of things above-ground. But now the railway through our great +tunnel takes us in a few minutes to the upper regions of our country. I +long, Nell, to hear you say, ‘Come, Harry, my eyes can bear daylight, +and I want to see the sun! I want to look upon the works of the +Almighty.’” + +“I shall soon say so, Harry, I hope,” replied the girl; “I shall soon +go with you to the world above; and yet—” + +“What are you going to say, Nell?” hastily cried Harry; “can you +possibly regret having quitted that gloomy abyss in which you spent +your early years, and whence we drew you half dead?” + +“No, Harry,” answered Nell; “I was only thinking that darkness is +beautiful as well as light. If you but knew what eyes accustomed to its +depth can see! Shades flit by, which one longs to follow; circles +mingle and intertwine, and one could gaze on them forever; black +hollows, full of indefinite gleams of radiance, lie deep at the bottom +of the mine. And then the voice-like sounds! Ah, Harry! one must have +lived down there to understand what I feel, what I can never express.” + +“And were you not afraid, Nell, all alone there?” + +“It was just when I was alone that I was not afraid.” + +Nell’s voice altered slightly as she said these words; however, Harry +thought he might press the subject a little further, so he said, “But +one might be easily lost in these great galleries, Nell. Were you not +afraid of losing your way?” + +“Oh, no, Harry; for a long time I had known every turn of the new +mine.” + +“Did you never leave it?” + +“Yes, now and then,” answered the girl with a little hesitation; +“sometimes I have been as far as the old mine of Aberfoyle.” + +“So you knew our old cottage?” + +“The cottage! oh, yes; but the people who lived there I only saw at a +great distance.” + +“They were my father and mother,” said Harry; “and I was there too; we +have always lived there—we never would give up the old dwelling.” + +“Perhaps it would have been better for you if you had,” murmured the +maiden. + +“Why so, Nell? Was it not just because we were obstinately resolved to +remain that we ended by discovering the new vein of coal? And did not +that discovery lead to the happy result of providing work for a large +population, and restoring them to ease and comfort? and did it not +enable us to find you, Nell, to save your life, and give you the love +of all our hearts?” + +“Ah, yes, for me indeed it is well, whatever may happen,” replied Nell +earnestly; “for others—who can tell?” + +“What do you mean?” + +“Oh, nothing—nothing. But it used to be very dangerous at that time to +go into the new cutting—yes, very dangerous indeed, Harry! Once some +rash people made their way into these chasms. They got a long, long +way; they were lost!” + +“They were lost?” said Harry, looking at her. + +“Yes, lost!” repeated Nell in a trembling voice. “They could not find +their way out.” + +“And there,” cried Harry, “they were imprisoned during eight long days! +They were at the point of death, Nell; and, but for a kind and +charitable being—an angel perhaps—sent by God to help them, who +secretly brought them a little food; but for a mysterious guide, who +afterwards led to them their deliverers, they never would have escaped +from that living tomb!” + +“And how do you know about that?” demanded the girl. + +“Because those men were James Starr, my father, and myself, Nell!” + +Nell looked up hastily, seized the young man’s hand, and gazed so +fixedly into his eyes that his feelings were stirred to their depths. +“You were there?” at last she uttered. + +“I was indeed,” said Harry, after a pause, “and she to whom we owe our +lives can have been none other than yourself, Nell!” + +Nell hid her face in her hands without speaking. Harry had never seen +her so much affected. + +“Those who saved your life, Nell,” added he in a voice tremulous with +emotion, “already owed theirs to you; do you think they will ever +forget it?” + + + + +CHAPTER XIII. +ON THE REVOLVING LADDER + + +The mining operations at New Aberfoyle continued to be carried on very +successfully. As a matter of course, the engineer, James Starr, as well +as Simon Ford, the discoverers of this rich carboniferous region, +shared largely in the profits. + +In time Harry became a partner. But he never thought of quitting the +cottage. He took his father’s place as overman, and diligently +superintended the works of this colony of miners. Jack Ryan was proud +and delighted at the good fortune which had befallen his comrade. He +himself was getting on very well also. + +They frequently met, either at the cottage or at the works in the pit. +Jack did not fail to remark the sentiments entertained by Harry towards +Nell. Harry would not confess to them; but Jack only laughed at him +when he shook his head and tried to deny any special interest in her. + +It must be noted that Jack Ryan had the greatest possible wish to be of +the party when Nell should pay her first visit to the upper surface of +the county of Stirling. He wished to see her wonder and admiration on +first beholding the yet unknown face of Nature. He very much hoped that +Harry would take him with them when the excursion was made. As yet, +however, the latter had made no proposal of the kind to him, which +caused him to feel a little uneasy as to his intentions. + +One morning Jack Ryan was descending through a shaft which led from the +surface to the lower regions of the pit. He did so by means of one of +those ladders which, continually revolving by machinery, enabled +persons to ascend and descend without fatigue. This apparatus had +lowered him about a hundred and fifty feet, when at a narrow +landing-place he perceived Harry, who was coming up to his labors for +the day. + +“Well met, my friend!” cried Jack, recognizing his comrade by the light +of the electric lamps. + +“Ah, Jack!” replied Harry, “I am glad to see you. I’ve got something to +propose.” + +“I can listen to nothing till you tell me how Nell is,” interrupted +Jack Ryan. + +“Nell is all right, Jack—so much so, in fact, that I hope in a month or +six weeks—” + +“To marry her, Harry?” + +“Jack, you don’t know what you are talking about!” + +“Ah, that’s very likely; but I know quite well what I shall do.” + +“What will you do?” + +“Marry her myself, if you don’t; so look sharp,” laughed Jack. “By +Saint Mungo! I think an immense deal of bonny Nell! A fine young +creature like that, who has been brought up in the mine, is just the +very wife for a miner. She is an orphan—so am I; and if you don’t care +much for her, and if she will have me—” + +Harry looked gravely at Jack, and let him talk on without trying to +stop him. “Don’t you begin to feel jealous, Harry?” asked Jack in a +more serious tone. + +“Not at all,” answered Harry quietly. + +“But if you don’t marry Nell yourself, you surely can’t expect her to +remain a spinster?” + +“I expect nothing,” said Harry. + +A movement of the ladder machinery now gave the two friends the +opportunity—one to go up, the other down the shaft. However, they +remained where they were. + +“Harry,” quoth Jack, “do you think I spoke in earnest just now about +Nell?” + +“No, that I don’t, Jack.” + +“Well, but now I will!” + +“You? speak in earnest?” + +“My good fellow, I can tell you I am quite capable of giving a friend a +bit of advice.” + +“Let’s hear, then, Jack!” + +“Well, look here! You love Nell as heartily as she deserves. Old Simon, +your father, and old Madge, your mother, both love her as if she were +their daughter. Why don’t you make her so in reality? Why don’t you +marry her?” + +“Come, Jack,” said Harry, “you are running on as if you knew how Nell +felt on the subject.” + +“Everybody knows that,” replied Jack, “and therefore it is impossible +to make you jealous of any of us. But here goes the ladder again—I’m +off!” + +“Stop a minute, Jack!” cried Harry, detaining his companion, who was +stepping onto the moving staircase. + +“I say! you seem to mean me to take up my quarters here altogether!” + +“Do be serious and listen, Jack! I want to speak in earnest myself +now.” + +“Well, I’ll listen till the ladder moves again, not a minute longer.” + +“Jack,” resumed Harry, “I need not pretend that I do not love Nell; I +wish above all things to make her my wife.” + +“That’s all right!” + +“But for the present I have scruples of conscience as to asking her to +make me a promise which would be irrevocable.” + +“What can you mean, Harry?” + +“I mean just this—that, it being certain Nell has never been outside +this coal mine in the very depths of which she was born, it stands to +reason that she knows nothing, and can comprehend nothing of what +exists beyond it. Her eyes—yes, and perhaps also her heart—have +everything yet to learn. Who can tell what her thoughts will be, when +perfectly new impressions shall be made upon her mind? As yet she knows +nothing of the world, and to me it would seem like deceiving her, if I +led her to decide in ignorance, upon choosing to remain all her life in +the coal mine. Do you understand me, Jack?” + +“Hem!—yes—pretty well. What I understand best is that you are going to +make me miss another turn of the ladder.” + +“Jack,” replied Harry gravely, “if this machinery were to stop +altogether, if this landing-place were to fall beneath our feet, you +must and shall hear what I have to say.” + +“Well done, Harry! that’s how I like to be spoken to! Let’s settle, +then, that, before you marry Nell, she shall go to school in Auld +Reekie.” + +“No indeed, Jack; I am perfectly able myself to educate the person who +is to be my wife.” + +“Sure that will be a great deal better, Harry!” + +“But, first of all,” resumed Harry, “I wish that Nell should gain a +real knowledge of the upper world. To illustrate my meaning, Jack, +suppose you were in love with a blind girl, and someone said to you, +‘In a month’s time her sight will be restored,’ would you not wait till +after she was cured, to marry her?” + +“Faith, to be sure I would!” exclaimed Jack. + +“Well, Jack, Nell is at present blind; and before she marries me, I +wish her to see what I am, and what the life really is to which she +would bind herself. In short, she must have daylight let in upon the +subject!” + +“Well said, Harry! Very well said indeed!” cried Jack. “Now I see what +you are driving at. And when may we expect the operation to come off?” + +“In a month, Jack,” replied Harry. “Nell is getting used to the light +of our reflectors. That is some preparation. In a month she will, I +hope, have seen the earth and its wonders—the sky and its splendors. +She will perceive that the limits of the universe are boundless.” + +But while Harry was thus giving the rein to his imagination, Jack Ryan, +quitting the platform, had leaped on the step of the moving machinery. + +“Hullo, Jack! Where are you?” + +“Far beneath you,” laughed the merry fellow. “While you soar to the +heights, I plunge into the depths.” + +“Fare ye well. Jack!” returned Harry, himself laying hold of the rising +ladder; “mind you say nothing about what I have been telling you.” + +“Not a word,” shouted Jack, “but I make one condition.” + +“What is that?” + +“That I may be one of the party when Nell’s first excursion to the face +of the earth comes off!” + +“So you shall, Jack, I promise you!” + +A fresh throb of the machinery placed a yet more considerable distance +between the friends. Their voices sounded faintly to each other. Harry, +however, could still hear Jack shouting: + +“I say! do you know what Nell will like better than either sun, moon, +or stars, after she’s seen the whole of them?” + +“No, Jack!” + +“Why, you yourself, old fellow! still you! always you!” And Jack’s +voice died away in a prolonged “Hurrah!” + +Harry, after this, applied himself diligently, during all his spare +time, to the work of Nell’s education. He taught her to read and to +write, and such rapid progress did she make, it might have been said +that she learnt by instinct. Never did keen intelligence more quickly +triumph over utter ignorance. It was the wonder of all beholders. + +Simon and Madge became every day more and more attached to their +adopted child, whose former history continued to puzzle them a good +deal. They plainly saw the nature of Harry’s feelings towards her, and +were far from displeased thereat. They recollected that Simon had said +to the engineer on his first visit to the old cottage, “How can our son +ever think of marrying? Where could a wife possibly be found suitable +for a lad whose whole life must be passed in the depths of a coal +mine?” + +Well! now it seemed as if the most desirable companion in the world had +been led to him by Providence. Was not this like a blessing direct from +Heaven? So the old man made up his mind that, if the wedding did take +place, the miners of New Aberfoyle should have a merry-making at Coal +Town, which they would never during their lives forget. Simon Ford +little knew what he was saying! + +It must be remarked that another person wished for this union of Harry +and Nell as much as Simon did—and that was James Starr, the engineer. +Of course he was really interested in the happiness of the two young +people. But another motive, connected with wider interests, influenced +him to desire it. + +It has been said that James Starr continued to entertain a certain +amount of apprehension, although for the present nothing appeared to +justify it. Yet that which had been might again be. This mystery about +the new cutting—Nell was evidently the only person acquainted with it. +Now, if fresh dangers were in store for the miners of Aberfoyle, how +were they possibly to be guarded against, without so much as knowing +the cause of them? + +“Nell has persisted in keeping silence,” said James Starr very often, +“but what she has concealed from others, she will not long hide from +her husband. Any danger would be danger to Harry as well as to the rest +of us. Therefore, a marriage which brings happiness to the lovers, and +safety to their friends, will be a good marriage, if ever there is such +a thing here below.” + +Thus, not illogically, reasoned James Starr. He communicated his ideas +to old Simon, who decidedly appreciated them. Nothing, then, appeared +to stand in the way of the match. What, in fact, was there to prevent +it? They loved each other; the parents desired nothing better for their +son. Harry’s comrades envied his good fortune, but freely acknowledged +that he deserved it. The maiden depended on no one else, and had but to +give the consent of her own heart. + +Why, then, if there were none to place obstacles in the way of this +union—why, as night came on, and, the labors of the day being over, the +electric lights in the mine were extinguished, and all the inhabitants +of Coal Town at rest within their dwellings—why did a mysterious form +always emerge from the gloomier recesses of New Aberfoyle, and silently +glide through the darkness? + +What instinct guided this phantom with ease through passages so narrow +as to appear to be impracticable? + +Why should the strange being, with eyes flashing through the deepest +darkness, come cautiously creeping along the shores of Lake Malcolm? +Why so directly make his way towards Simon’s cottage, yet so carefully +as hitherto to avoid notice? Why, bending towards the windows, did he +strive to catch, by listening, some fragment of the conversation within +the closed shutters? + +And, on catching a few words, why did he shake his fist with a menacing +gesture towards the calm abode, while from between his set teeth issued +these words in muttered fury, “She and he? Never! never!” + + + + +CHAPTER XIV. +A SUNRISE + + +A month after this, on the evening of the 20th of August, Simon Ford +and Madge took leave, with all manner of good wishes, of four tourists, +who were setting forth from the cottage. + +James Starr, Harry, and Jack Ryan were about to lead Nell’s steps over +yet untrodden paths, and to show her the glories of nature by a light +to which she was as yet a stranger. The excursion was to last for two +days. James Starr, as well as Harry, considered that during these eight +and forty hours spent above ground, the maiden would be able to see +everything of which she must have remained ignorant in the gloomy pit; +all the varied aspects of the globe, towns, plains, mountains, rivers, +lakes, gulfs, and seas would pass, panorama-like, before her eyes. + +In that part of Scotland lying between Edinburgh and Glasgow, nature +would seem to have collected and set forth specimens of every one of +these terrestrial beauties. As to the heavens, they would be spread +abroad as over the whole earth, with their changeful clouds, serene or +veiled moon, their radiant sun, and clustering stars. The expedition +had been planned so as to combine a view of all these things. + +Simon and Madge would have been glad to go with Nell; but they never +left their cottage willingly, and could not make up their minds to quit +their subterranean home for a single day. + +James Starr went as an observer and philosopher, curious to note, from +a psychological point of view, the novel impressions made upon Nell; +perhaps also with some hope of detecting a clue to the mysterious +events connected with her childhood. Harry, with a little trepidation, +asked himself whether it was not possible that this rapid initiation +into the things of the exterior world would change the maiden he had +known and loved hitherto into quite a different girl. As for Jack Ryan, +he was as joyous as a lark rising in the first beams of the sun. He +only trusted that his gayety would prove contagious, and enliven his +traveling companions, thus rewarding them for letting him join them. +Nell was pensive and silent. + +James Starr had decided, very sensibly, to set off in the evening. It +would be very much better for the girl to pass gradually from the +darkness of night to the full light of day; and that would in this way +be managed, since between midnight and noon she would experience the +successive phases of shade and sunshine, to which her sight had to get +accustomed. + +Just as they left the cottage, Nell took Harry’s hand saying, “Harry, +is it really necessary for me to leave the mine at all, even for these +few days?” + +“Yes, it is, Nell,” replied the young man. “It is needful for both of +us.” + +“But, Harry,” resumed Nell, “ever since you found me, I have been as +happy as I can possibly be. You have been teaching me. Why is that not +enough? What am I going up there for?” + +Harry looked at her in silence. Nell was giving utterance to nearly his +own thoughts. + +“My child,” said James Starr, “I can well understand the hesitation you +feel; but it will be good for you to go with us. Those who love you are +taking you, and they will bring you back again. Afterwards you will be +free, if you wish it, to continue your life in the coal mine, like old +Simon, and Madge, and Harry. But at least you ought to be able to +compare what you give up with what you choose, then decide freely. +Come!” + +“Come, dear Nell!” cried Harry. + +“Harry, I am willing to follow you,” replied the maiden. At nine +o’clock the last train through the tunnel started to convey Nell and +her companions to the surface of the earth. Twenty minutes later they +alighted on the platform where the branch line to New Aberfoyle joins +the railway from Dumbarton to Stirling. + +The night was already dark. From the horizon to the zenith, light +vapory clouds hurried through the upper air, driven by a refreshing +northwesterly breeze. The day had been lovely; the night promised to be +so likewise. + +On reaching Stirling, Nell and her friends, quitting the train, left +the station immediately. Just before them, between high trees, they +could see a road which led to the banks of the river Forth. + +The first physical impression on the girl was the purity of the air +inhaled eagerly by her lungs. + +“Breathe it freely, Nell,” said James Starr; “it is fragrant with all +the scents of the open country.” + +“What is all that smoke passing over our heads?” inquired Nell. + +“Those are clouds,” answered Harry, “blown along by the westerly wind.” + +“Ah!” said Nell, “how I should like to feel myself carried along in +that silent whirl! And what are those shining sparks which glance here +and there between rents in the clouds?” + +“Those are the stars I have told you about, Nell. So many suns they +are, so many centers of worlds like our own, most likely.” + +The constellations became more clearly visible as the wind cleared the +clouds from the deep blue of the firmament. Nell gazed upon the myriad +stars which sparkled overhead. “But how is it,” she said at length, +“that if these are suns, my eyes can endure their brightness?” + +“My child,” replied James Starr, “they are indeed suns, but suns at an +enormous distance. The nearest of these millions of stars, whose rays +can reach us, is Vega, that star in Lyra which you observe near the +zenith, and that is fifty thousand millions of leagues distant. Its +brightness, therefore, cannot affect your vision. But our own sun, +which will rise to-morrow, is only distant thirty-eight millions of +leagues, and no human eye can gaze fixedly upon that, for it is +brighter than the blaze of any furnace. But come, Nell, come!” + +They pursued their way, James Starr leading the maiden, Harry walking +by her side, while Jack Ryan roamed about like a young dog, impatient +of the slow pace of his masters. The road was lonely. Nell kept looking +at the great trees, whose branches, waving in the wind, made them seem +to her like giants gesticulating wildly. The sound of the breeze in the +tree-tops, the deep silence during a lull, the distant line of the +horizon, which could be discerned when the road passed over open +levels—all these things filled her with new sensations, and left +lasting impressions on her mind. + +After some time she ceased to ask questions, and her companions +respected her silence, not wishing to influence by any words of theirs +the girl’s highly sensitive imagination, but preferring to allow ideas +to arise spontaneously in her soul. + +At about half past eleven o’clock, they gained the banks of the river +Forth. There a boat, chartered by James Starr, awaited them. In a few +hours it would convey them all to Granton. Nell looked at the clear +water which flowed up to her feet, as the waves broke gently on the +beach, reflecting the starlight. “Is this a lake?” said she. + +“No,” replied Harry, “it is a great river flowing towards the sea, and +soon opening so widely as to resemble a gulf. Taste a little of the +water in the hollow of your hand, Nell, and you will perceive that it +is not sweet like the waters of Lake Malcolm.” + +The maiden bent towards the stream, and, raising a little water to her +lips, “This is quite salt,” said she. + +“Yes, the tide is full; the sea water flows up the river as far as +this,” answered Harry. + +“Oh, Harry! Harry!” exclaimed the maiden, “what can that red glow on +the horizon be? Is it a forest on fire?” + +“No, it is the rising moon, Nell.” + +“To be sure, that’s the moon,” cried Jack Ryan, “a fine big silver +plate, which the spirits of air hand round and round the sky to collect +the stars in, like money.” + +“Why, Jack,” said the engineer, laughing, “I had no idea you could +strike out such bold comparisons!” + +“Well, but, Mr. Starr, it is a just comparison. Don’t you see the stars +disappear as the moon passes on? so I suppose they drop into it.” + +“What you mean to say, Jack, is that the superior brilliancy of the +moon eclipses that of stars of the sixth magnitude, therefore they +vanish as she approaches.” + +“How beautiful all this is!” repeated Nell again and again, with her +whole soul in her eyes. “But I thought the moon was round?” + +“So she is, when ‘full,’” said James Starr; “that means when she is +just opposite to the sun. But to-night the moon is in the last quarter, +shorn of her just proportions, and friend Jack’s grand silver plate +looks more like a barber’s basin.” + +“Oh, Mr. Starr, what a base comparison!” he exclaimed, “I was just +going to begin a sonnet to the moon, but your barber’s basin has +destroyed all chance of an inspiration.” + +Gradually the moon ascended the heavens. Before her light the lingering +clouds fled away, while stars still sparkled in the west, beyond the +influence of her radiance. Nell gazed in silence on the glorious +spectacle. The soft silvery light was pleasant to her eyes, and her +little trembling hand expressed to Harry, who clasped it, how deeply +she was affected by the scene. + +“Let us embark now,” said James Starr. “We have to get to the top of +Arthur’s Seat before sunrise.” + +The boat was moored to a post on the bank. A boatman awaited them. Nell +and her friends took their seats; the sail was spread; it quickly +filled before the northwesterly breeze, and they sped on their way. + +What a new sensation was this for the maiden! She had been rowed on the +waters of Lake Malcolm; but the oar, handled ever so lightly by Harry, +always betrayed effort on the part of the oarsman. Now, for the first +time, Nell felt herself borne along with a gliding movement, like that +of a balloon through the air. The water was smooth as a lake, and Nell +reclined in the stern of the boat, enjoying its gentle rocking. +Occasionally the effect of the moonlight on the waters was as though +the boat sailed across a glittering silver field. Little wavelets +rippled along the banks. It was enchanting. + +At length Nell was overcome with drowsiness, her eyelids drooped, her +head sank on Harry’s shoulder—she slept. Harry, sorry that she should +miss any of the beauties of this magnificent night, would have aroused +her. + +“Let her sleep!” said the engineer. “She will better enjoy the +novelties of the day after a couple of hours’ rest.” + +At two o’clock in the morning the boat reached Granton pier. Nell +awoke. “Have I been asleep?” inquired she. + +“No, my child,” said James Starr. “You have been dreaming that you +slept, that’s all.” + +The night continued clear. The moon, riding in mid-heaven, diffused her +rays on all sides. In the little port of Granton lay two or three +fishing boats; they rocked gently on the waters of the Firth. The wind +fell as the dawn approached. The atmosphere, clear of mists, promised +one of those fine autumn days so delicious on the sea coast. + +A soft, transparent film of vapor lay along the horizon; the first +sunbeam would dissipate it; to the maiden it exhibited that aspect of +the sea which seems to blend it with the sky. Her view was now +enlarged, without producing the impression of the boundless infinity of +ocean. + +Harry taking Nell’s hand, they followed James Starr and Jack Ryan as +they traversed the deserted streets. To Nell, this suburb of the +capital appeared only a collection of gloomy dark houses, just like +Coal Town, only that the roof was higher, and gleamed with small +lights. + +She stepped lightly forward, and easily kept pace with Harry. “Are you +not tired, Nell?” asked he, after half an hour’s walking. + +“No! my feet seem scarcely to touch the earth,” returned she. “This sky +above us seems so high up, I feel as if I could take wing and fly!” + +“I say! keep hold of her!” cried Jack Ryan. “Our little Nell is too +good to lose. I feel just as you describe though, myself, when I have +not left the pit for a long time.” + +“It is when we no longer experience the oppressive effect of the +vaulted rocky roof above Coal Town,” said James Starr, “that the +spacious firmament appears to us like a profound abyss into which we +have, as it were, a desire to plunge. Is that what you feel, Nell?” + +“Yes, Mr. Starr, it is exactly like that,” said Nell. “It makes me feel +giddy.” + +“Ah! you will soon get over that, Nell,” said Harry. “You will get used +to the outer world, and most likely forget all about our dark coal +pit.” + +“No, Harry, never!” said Nell, and she put her hand over her eyes, as +though she would recall the remembrance of everything she had lately +quitted. + +Between the silent dwellings of the city, the party passed along Leith +Walk, and went round the Calton Hill, where stood, in the light of the +gray dawn, the buildings of the Observatory and Nelson’s Monument. By +Regent’s Bridge and the North Bridge they at last reached the lower +extremity of the Canongate. The town still lay wrapt in slumber. + +Nell pointed to a large building in the center of an open space, +asking, “What great confused mass is that?” + +“That confused mass, Nell, is the palace of the ancient kings of +Scotland; that is Holyrood, where many a sad scene has been enacted! +The historian can here invoke many a royal shade; from those of the +early Scottish kings to that of the unhappy Mary Stuart, and the French +king, Charles X. When day breaks, however, Nell, this palace will not +look so very gloomy. Holyrood, with its four embattled towers, is not +unlike some handsome country house. But let us pursue our way. There, +just above the ancient Abbey of Holyrood, are the superb cliffs called +Salisbury Crags. Arthur’s Seat rises above them, and that is where we +are going. From the summit of Arthur’s Seat, Nell, your eyes shall +behold the sun appear above the horizon seaward.” + +They entered the King’s Park, then, gradually ascending they passed +across the Queen’s Drive, a splendid carriageway encircling the hill, +which we owe to a few lines in one of Sir Walter Scott’s romances. + +Arthur’s Seat is in truth only a hill, seven hundred and fifty feet +high, which stands alone amid surrounding heights. In less than half an +hour, by an easy winding path, James Starr and his party reached the +crest of the crouching lion, which, seen from the west, Arthur’s Seat +so much resembles. There, all four seated themselves; and James Starr, +ever ready with quotations from the great Scottish novelist, simply +said, “Listen to what is written by Sir Walter Scott in the eighth +chapter of the _Heart of Mid-Lothian_. ‘If I were to choose a spot from +which the rising or setting sun could be seen to the greatest possible +advantage, it would be from this neighborhood.’ Now watch, Nell! the +sun will soon appear, and for the first time you will contemplate its +splendor.” + +The maiden turned her eyes eastward. Harry, keeping close beside her, +observed her with anxious interest. Would the first beams of day +overpower her feelings? All remained quiet, even Jack Ryan. A faint +streak of pale rose tinted the light vapors of the horizon. It was the +first ray of light attacking the laggards of the night. Beneath the +hill lay the silent city, massed confusedly in the twilight of dawn. +Here and there lights twinkled among the houses of the old town. +Westward rose many hill-tops, soon to be illuminated by tips of fire. + +Now the distant horizon of the sea became more plainly visible. The +scale of colors fell into the order of the solar. Every instant they +increased in intensity, rose color became red, red became fiery, +daylight dawned. Nell now glanced towards the city, of which the +outlines became more distinct. Lofty monuments, slender steeples +emerged from the gloom; a kind of ashy light was spread abroad. At +length one solitary ray struck on the maiden’s sight. It was that ray +of green which, morning or evening, is reflected upwards from the sea +when the horizon is clear. + +An instant afterwards, Nell turned, and pointing towards a bright +prominent point in the New Town, “Fire!” cried she. + +“No, Nell, that is no fire,” said Harry. “The sun has touched with gold +the top of Sir Walter Scott’s monument”—and, indeed, the extreme point +of the monument blazed like the light of a pharos. + +It was day—the sun arose—his disc seemed to glitter as though he indeed +emerged from the waters of the sea. Appearing at first very large from +the effects of refraction, he contracted as he rose and assumed the +perfectly circular form. Soon no eye could endure the dazzling +splendor; it was as though the mouth of a furnace was opened through +the sky. + +Nell closed her eyes, but her eyelids could not exclude the glare, and +she pressed her fingers over them. Harry advised her to turn in the +opposite direction. “Oh, no,” said she, “my eyes must get used to look +at what yours can bear to see!” + +Even through her hands Nell perceived a rosy light, which became more +white as the sun rose above the horizon. As her sight became accustomed +to it, her eyelids were raised, and at length her eyes drank in the +light of day. + +The good child knelt down, exclaiming, “Oh Lord God! how beautiful is +Thy creation!” Then she rose and looked around. At her feet extended +the panorama of Edinburgh—the clear, distinct lines of streets in the +New Town, and the irregular mass of houses, with their confused network +of streets and lanes, which constitutes Auld Reekie, properly so +called. Two heights commanded the entire city; Edinburgh Castle, +crowning its huge basaltic rock, and the Calton Hill, bearing on its +rounded summit, among other monuments, ruins built to represent those +of the Parthenon at Athens. + +Fine roadways led in all directions from the capital. To the north, the +coast of the noble Firth of Forth was indented by a deep bay, in which +could be seen the seaport town of Leith, between which and this Modern +Athens of the north ran a street, straight as that leading to the +Piraeus. + +Beyond the wide Firth could be seen the soft outlines of the county of +Fife, while beneath the spectator stretched the yellow sands of +Portobello and Newhaven. + +Nell could not speak. Her lips murmured a word or two indistinctly; she +trembled, became giddy, her strength failed her; overcome by the purity +of the air and the sublimity of the scene, she sank fainting into +Harry’s arms, who, watching her closely, was ready to support her. + +The youthful maiden, hitherto entombed in the massive depths of the +earth, had now obtained an idea of the universe—of the works both of +God and of man. She had looked upon town and country, and beyond these, +into the immensity of the sea, the infinity of the heavens. + + + + +CHAPTER XV. +LOCH LOMOND AND LOCH KATRINE + + +Harry bore Nell carefully down the steeps of Arthur’s Seat, and, +accompanied by James Starr and Jack Ryan, they reached Lambert’s Hotel. +There a good breakfast restored their strength, and they began to make +further plans for an excursion to the Highland lakes. + +Nell was now refreshed, and able to look boldly forth into the +sunshine, while her lungs with ease inhaled the free and healthful air. +Her eyes learned gladly to know the harmonious varieties of color as +they rested on the green trees, the azure skies, and all the endless +shades of lovely flowers and plants. + +The railway train, which they entered at the Waverley Station, conveyed +Nell and her friends to Glasgow. There, from the new bridge across the +Clyde, they watched the curious sea-like movement of the river. After a +night’s rest at Comrie’s Royal Hotel, they betook themselves to the +terminus of the Edinburgh and Glasgow Railway, from whence a train +would rapidly carry them, by way of Dumbarton and Balloch, to the +southern extremity of Loch Lomond. + +“Now for the land of Rob Roy and Fergus MacIvor!—the scenery +immortalized by the poetical descriptions of Walter Scott,” exclaimed +James Starr. “You don’t know this country, Jack?” + +“Only by its songs, Mr. Starr,” replied Jack; “and judging by those, it +must be grand.” + +“So it is, so it is!” cried the engineer, “and our dear Nell shall see +it to the best advantage.” + +A steamboat, the _Sinclair_ by name, awaited tourists about to make the +excursion to the lakes. Nell and her companions went on board. The day +had begun in brilliant sunshine, free from the British fogs which so +often veil the skies. + +The passengers were determined to lose none of the beauties of nature +to be displayed during the thirty miles’ voyage. Nell, seated between +James Starr and Harry, drank in with every faculty the magnificent +poetry with which lovely Scottish scenery is fraught. Numerous small +isles and islets soon appeared, as though thickly sown on the bosom of +the lake. The _Sinclair_ steamed her way among them, while between them +glimpses could be had of quiet valleys, or wild rocky gorges on the +mainland. + +“Nell,” said James Starr, “every island here has its legend, perhaps +its song, as well as the mountains which overshadow the lake. One may, +without much exaggeration, say that the history of this country is +written in gigantic characters of mountains and islands.” + +Nell listened, but these fighting stories made her sad. Why all that +bloodshed on plains which to her seemed enormous, and where surely +there must have been room for everybody? + +The shores of the lake form a little harbor at Luss. Nell could for a +moment catch sight of the old tower of its ancient castle. Then, the +_Sinclair_ turning northward, the tourists gazed upon Ben Lomond, +towering nearly 3,000 feet above the level of the lake. + +“Oh, what a noble mountain!” cried Nell; “what a view there must be +from the top!” + +“Yes, Nell,” answered James Starr; “see how haughtily its peak rises +from amidst the thicket of oaks, birches, and heather, which clothe the +lower portion of the mountain! From thence one may see two-thirds of +old Caledonia. This eastern side of the lake was the special abode of +the clan McGregor. At no great distance, the struggles of the Jacobites +and Hanoverians repeatedly dyed with blood these lonely glens. Over +these scenes shines the pale moon, called in old ballads ‘Macfarlane’s +lantern.’ Among these rocks still echo the immortal names of Rob Roy +and McGregor Campbell.” + +As the _Sinclair_ advanced along the base of the mountain, the country +became more and more abrupt in character. Trees were only scattered +here and there; among them were the willows, slender wands of which +were formerly used for hanging persons of low degree. + +“To economize hemp,” remarked James Starr. + +The lake narrowed very much as it stretched northwards. + +The steamer passed a few more islets, Inveruglas, Eilad-whow, where +stand some ruins of a stronghold of the clan MacFarlane. At length the +head of the loch was reached, and the _Sinclair_ stopped at Inversnaid. + +Leaving Loch Arklet on the left, a steep ascent led to the Inn of +Stronachlacar, on the banks of Loch Katrine. + +There, at the end of a light pier, floated a small steamboat, named, as +a matter of course, the _Rob Roy_. The travelers immediately went on +board; it was about to start. Loch Katrine is only ten miles in length; +its width never exceeds two miles. The hills nearest it are full of a +character peculiar to themselves. + +“Here we are on this famous lake,” said James Starr. “It has been +compared to an eel on account of its length and windings: and justly +so. They say that it never freezes. I know nothing about that, but what +we want to think of is, that here are the scenes of the adventures in +the _Lady of the Lake_. I believe, if friend Jack looked about him +carefully, he might see, still gliding over the surface of the water, +the shade of the slender form of sweet Ellen Douglas.” + +“To be sure, Mr. Starr,” replied Jack; “why should I not? I may just as +well see that pretty girl on the waters of Loch Katrine, as those ugly +ghosts on Loch Malcolm in the coal pit.” + +It was by this time three o’clock in the afternoon. The less hilly +shores of Loch Katrine westward extended like a picture framed between +Ben An and Ben Venue. At the distance of half a mile was the entrance +to the narrow bay, where was the landing-place for our tourists, who +meant to return to Stirling by Callander. + +Nell appeared completely worn out by the continued excitement of the +day. A faint ejaculation was all she was able to utter in token of +admiration as new objects of wonder or beauty met her gaze. She +required some hours of rest, were it but to impress lastingly the +recollection of all she had seen. + +Her hand rested in Harry’s, and, looking earnestly at her, he said, +“Nell, dear Nell, we shall soon be home again in the gloomy region of +the coal mine. Shall you not pine for what you have seen during these +few hours spent in the glorious light of day?” + +“No, Harry,” replied the girl; “I shall like to think about it, but I +am glad to go back with you to our dear old home.” + +“Nell!” said Harry, vainly attempting to steady his voice, “are you +willing to be bound to me by the most sacred tie? Could you marry me, +Nell?” + +“Yes, Harry, I could, if you are sure that I am able to make you +happy,” answered the maiden, raising her innocent eyes to his. + +Scarcely had she pronounced these words when an unaccountable +phenomenon took place. The _Rob Roy_, still half a mile from land, +experienced a violent shock. She suddenly grounded. No efforts of the +engine could move her. + +The cause of this accident was simply that Loch Katrine was all at once +emptied, as though an enormous fissure had opened in its bed. In a few +seconds it had the appearance of a sea beach at low water. Nearly the +whole of its contents had vanished into the bosom of the earth. + +“My friends!” exclaimed James Starr, as the cause of this marvel became +suddenly clear to him, “God help New Aberfoyle!” + + + + +CHAPTER XVI. +A FINAL THREAT + + +On that day, in the colliery of New Aberfoyle, work was going on in the +usual regular way. In the distance could be heard the crash of great +charges of dynamite, by which the carboniferous rocks were blasted. +Here masses of coal were loosened by pick-ax and crowbar; there the +perforating machines, with their harsh grating, bored through the +masses of sandstone and schist. + +Hollow, cavernous noises resounded on all sides. Draughts of air rushed +along the ventilating galleries, and the wooden swing-doors slammed +beneath their violent gusts. In the lower tunnels, trains of trucks +kept passing along at the rate of fifteen miles an hour, while at their +approach electric bells warned the workmen to cower down in the refuge +places. Lifts went incessantly up and down, worked by powerful engines +on the surface of the soil. Coal Town was throughout brilliantly +lighted by the electric lamps at full power. + +Mining operations were being carried on with the greatest activity; +coal was being piled incessantly into the trucks, which went in +hundreds to empty themselves into the corves at the bottom of the +shaft. While parties of miners who had labored during the night were +taking needful rest, the others worked without wasting an hour. + +Old Simon Ford and Madge, having finished their dinner, were resting at +the door of their cottage. Simon smoked a good pipe of tobacco, and +from time to time the old couple spoke of Nell, of their boy, of Mr. +Starr, and wondered how they liked their trip to the surface of the +earth. Where would they be now? What would they be doing? How could +they stay so long away from the mine without feeling homesick? + +Just then a terrific roaring noise was heard. It was like the sound of +a mighty cataract rushing down into the mine. The old people rose +hastily. They perceived at once that the waters of Loch Malcolm were +rising. A great wave, unfurling like a billow, swept up the bank and +broke against the walls of the cottage. Simon caught his wife in his +arms, and carried her to the upper part of their dwelling. + +At the same moment, cries arose from all parts of Coal Town, which was +threatened by a sudden inundation. The inhabitants fled for safety to +the top of the schist rocks bordering the lake; terror spread in all +directions; whole families in frantic haste rushed towards the tunnel +in order to reach the upper regions of the pit. + +It was feared that the sea had burst into the colliery, for its +galleries and passages penetrated as far as the Caledonian Canal. In +that case the entire excavation, vast as it was, would be completely +flooded. Not a single inhabitant of New Aberfoyle would escape death. + +But when the foremost fugitives reached the entrance to the tunnel, +they encountered Simon Ford, who had quitted his cottage. “Stop, my +friends, stop!” shouted the old man; “if our town is to be overwhelmed, +the floods will rush faster than you can; no one can possibly escape. +But see! the waters are rising no further! it appears to me the danger +is over.” + +“And our comrades at the far end of the works—what about them?” cried +some of the miners. + +“There is nothing to fear for them,” replied Simon; “they are working +on a higher level than the bed of the loch.” + +It was soon evident that the old man was in the right. The sudden +influx of water had rushed to the very lowest bed of the vast mine, and +its only ultimate effect was to raise the level of Loch Malcolm a few +feet. Coal Town was uninjured, and it was reasonable to hope that no +one had perished in the flood of water which had descended to the +depths of the mine never yet penetrated by the workmen. + +Simon and his men could not decide whether this inundation was owing to +the overflow of a subterranean sheet of water penetrating fissures in +the solid rock, or to some underground torrent breaking through its +worn bed, and precipitating itself to the lowest level of the mine. But +that very same evening they knew what to think about it, for the local +papers published an account of the marvelous phenomenon which Loch +Katrine had exhibited. + +The surprising news was soon after confirmed by the four travelers, +who, returning with all possible speed to the cottage, learned with +extreme satisfaction that no serious damage was done in New Aberfoyle. + +The bed of Loch Katrine had fairly given way. The waters had suddenly +broken through by an enormous fissure into the mine beneath. Of Sir +Walter Scott’s favorite loch there was not left enough to wet the +pretty foot of the Lady of the Lake; all that remained was a pond of a +few acres at the further extremity. + +This singular event made a profound sensation in the country. It was a +thing unheard of that a lake should in the space of a few minutes empty +itself, and disappear into the bowels of the earth. There was nothing +for it but to erase Loch Katrine from the map of Scotland until (by +public subscription) it could be refilled, care being of course taken, +in the first place, to stop the rent up tight. This catastrophe would +have been the death of Sir Walter Scott, had he still been in the +world. + +The accident was explicable when it was ascertained that, between the +bed of the lake and the vast cavity beneath, the geological strata had +become reduced to a thin layer, incapable of longer sustaining the +weight of water. + +Now, although to most people this event seemed plainly due to natural +causes, yet to James Starr and his friends, Simon and Harry Ford, the +question constantly recurred, was it not rather to be attributed to +malevolence? Uneasy suspicions continually harassed their minds. Was +their evil genius about to renew his persecution of those who ventured +to work this rich mine? + +At the cottage, some days later, James Starr thus discussed the matter +with the old man and his son: “Well, Simon,” said he, “to my thinking +we must class this circumstance with the others for which we still seek +elucidation, although it is no doubt possible to explain it by natural +causes.” + +“I am quite of your mind, Mr. James,” replied Simon, “but take my +advice, and say nothing about it; let us make all researches +ourselves.” + +“Oh, I know the result of such research beforehand!” cried the +engineer. + +“And what will it be, then?” + +“We shall find proofs of malevolence, but not the malefactor.” + +“But he exists! he is there! Where can he lie concealed? Is it possible +to conceive that the most depraved human being could, single-handed, +carry out an idea so infernal as that of bursting through the bed of a +lake? I believe I shall end by thinking, like Jack Ryan, that the evil +demon of the mine revenges himself on us for having invaded his +domain.” + +Nell was allowed to hear as little as possible of these discussions. +Indeed, she showed no desire to enter into them, although it was very +evident that she shared in the anxieties of her adopted parents. The +melancholy in her countenance bore witness to much mental agitation. + +It was at length resolved that James Starr, together with Simon and +Harry, should return to the scene of the disaster, and endeavor to +satisfy themselves as to the cause of it. They mentioned their project +to no one. To those unacquainted with the group of facts on which it +was based, the opinion of Starr and his friends could not fail to +appear wholly inadmissible. + +A few days later, the three friends proceeded in a small boat to +examine the natural pillars on which had rested the solid earth forming +the basin of Loch Katrine. They discovered that they had been right in +suspecting that the massive columns had been undermined by blasting. +The blackened traces of explosion were to be seen, the waters having +subsided below the level of these mysterious operations Thus the fall +of a portion of the vast vaulted dome was proved to have been +premeditated by man, and by man’s hand had it been effected. + +“It is impossible to doubt it,” said James Starr; “and who can say what +might not have happened had the sea, instead of a little loch, been let +in upon us?” + +“You may well say that,” cried the old overman, with a feeling of pride +in his beloved mine; “for nothing less than a sea would have drowned +our Aberfoyle. But, once more, what possible interest could any human +being have in the destruction of our works?” + +“It is quite incomprehensible,” replied James Starr. “This case is +something perfectly unlike that of a band of common criminals, who, +concealing themselves in dens and caves, go forth to rob and pillage +the surrounding country. The evil deeds of such men would certainly, in +the course of three years have betrayed their existence and +lurking-places. Neither can it be, as I sometimes used to think, that +smugglers or coiners carried on their illegal practices in some distant +and unknown corner of these prodigious caverns, and were consequently +anxious to drive us out of them. But no one coins false money or +obtains contraband goods only to conceal them! + +“Yet it is clear that an implacable enemy has sworn the ruin of New +Aberfoyle, and that some interest urges him to seek in every possible +way to wreak his hatred upon us. He appears to be too weak to act +openly, and lays his schemes in secret; but displays such intelligence +as to render him a most formidable foe. + +“My friends, he must understand better than we do the secrets of our +domain, since he has all this time eluded our vigilance. He must be a +man experienced in mining, skilled beyond the most skillful—that’s +certain, Simon! We have proof enough of that. + +“Let me see! Have you never had a personal enemy, to whom your +suspicions might point? Think well! There is such a thing as hatred +which time never softens. Go back to recollections of your earliest +days. What befalls us appears the work of a stern and patient will, and +to explain it demands every effort of thought and memory.” + +Simon did not answer immediately—his mind evidently engaged in a close +and candid survey of his past life. Presently, raising his head, “No,” +said he; “no! Heaven be my witness, neither Madge nor I have ever +injured anybody. We cannot believe that we have a single enemy in the +world.” + +“Ah! if Nell would only speak!” cried the engineer. + +“Mr. Starr—and you, father,” said Harry, “I do beg of you to keep +silence on this matter, and not to question my poor Nell. I know she is +very anxious and uneasy; and I feel positive that some great secret +painfully oppresses her heart. Either she knows nothing it would be of +any use for us to hear, or she considers it her duty to be silent. It +is impossible to doubt her affection for us—for all of us. If at a +future time she informs me of what she has hitherto concealed from us, +you shall know about it immediately.” + +“So be it, then, Harry,” answered the engineer; “and yet I must say +Nell’s silence, if she knows anything, is to me perfectly +inexplicable.” + +Harry would have continued her defense; but the engineer stopped him, +saying, “All right, Harry; we promise to say no more about it to your +future wife.” + +“With my father’s consent she shall be my wife without further delay.” + +“My boy,” said old Simon, “your marriage shall take place this very day +month. Mr. Starr, will you undertake the part of Nell’s father?” + +“You may reckon upon me for that, Simon,” answered the engineer. + +They then returned to the cottage, but said not a word of the result of +their examinations in the mine, so that to the rest of its inhabitants, +the bursting in of the vaulted roof of the caverns continued to be +regarded as a mere accident. There was but a loch the less in Scotland. + +Nell gradually resumed her customary duties, and Harry made good use of +her little visit to the upper air, in the instructions he gave her. She +enjoyed the recollections of life above ground, yet without regretting +it. The somber region she had loved as a child, and in which her wedded +life would be spent, was as dear to her as ever. + +The approaching marriage created great excitement in New Aberfoyle. +Good wishes poured in on all sides, and foremost among them were Jack +Ryan’s. He was detected busily practicing his best songs in preparation +for the great day, which was to be celebrated by the whole population +of Coal Town. + +During the month preceding the wedding-day, there were more accidents +occurring in New Aberfoyle than had ever been known in the place. One +would have thought the approaching union of Harry and Nell actually +provoked one catastrophe after another. These misfortunes happened +chiefly at the further and lowest extremity of the works, and the cause +of them was always in some way mysterious. + +Thus, for instance, the wood-work of a distant gallery was discovered +to be in flames, which were extinguished by Harry and his companions at +the risk of their lives, by employing engines filled with water and +carbonic acid, always kept ready in case of necessity. The lamp used by +the incendiary was found; but no clew whatever as to who he could be. + +Another time an inundation took place in consequence of the stanchions +of a water-tank giving way; and Mr. Starr ascertained beyond a doubt +that these supports had first of all been partially sawn through. +Harry, who had been overseeing the works near the place at the time, +was buried in the falling rubbish, and narrowly escaped death. + +A few days afterwards, on the steam tramway, a train of trucks, which +Harry was passing along, met with an obstacle on the rails, and was +overturned. It was then discovered that a beam had been laid across the +line. In short, events of this description became so numerous that the +miners were seized with a kind of panic, and it required all the +influence of their chiefs to keep them on the works. + +“You would think that there was a whole band of these ruffians,” Simon +kept saying, “and we can’t lay hands on a single one of them.” + +Search was made in all directions. The county police were on the alert +night and day, yet discovered nothing. The evil intentions seeming +specially designed to injure Harry. Starr forbade him to venture alone +beyond the ordinary limits of the works. + +They were equally careful of Nell, although, at Harry’s entreaty, these +malicious attempts to do harm were concealed from her, because they +might remind her painfully of former times. Simon and Madge watched +over her by day and by night with a sort of stern solicitude. The poor +child yielded to their wishes, without a remark or a complaint. Did she +perceive that they acted with a view to her interest? Probably she did. +And on her part, she seemed to watch over others, and was never easy +unless all whom she loved were together in the cottage. + +When Harry came home in the evening, she could not restrain expressions +of child-like joy, very unlike her usual manner, which was rather +reserved than demonstrative. As soon as day broke, she was astir before +anyone else, and her constant uneasiness lasted all day until the hour +of return home from work. + +Harry became very anxious that their marriage should take place. He +thought that, when the irrevocable step was taken, malevolence would be +disarmed, and that Nell would never feel safe until she was his wife. +James Starr, Simon, and Madge, were all of the same opinion, and +everyone counted the intervening days, for everyone suffered from the +most uncomfortable forebodings. + +It was perfectly evident that nothing relating to Nell was indifferent +to this hidden foe, whom it was impossible to meet or to avoid. +Therefore it seemed quite possible that the solemn act of her marriage +with Harry might be the occasion of some new and dreadful outbreak of +his hatred. + +One morning, a week before the day appointed for the ceremony, Nell, +rising early, went out of the cottage before anyone else. No sooner had +she crossed the threshold than a cry of indescribable anguish escaped +her lips. + +Her voice was heard throughout the dwelling; in a moment, Madge, Harry, +and Simon were at her side. Nell was pale as death, her countenance +agitated, her features expressing the utmost horror. Unable to speak, +her eyes were riveted on the door of the cottage, which she had just +opened. + +With rigid fingers she pointed to the following words traced upon it +during the night: “Simon Ford, you have robbed me of the last vein in +our old pit. Harry, your son, has robbed me of Nell. Woe betide you! +Woe betide you all! Woe betide New Aberfoyle!—SILFAX.” + +“Silfax!” exclaimed Simon and Madge together. + +“Who is this man?” demanded Harry, looking alternately at his father +and at the maiden. + +“Silfax!” repeated Nell in tones of despair, “Silfax!”—and, murmuring +this name, her whole frame shuddering with fear and agitation, she was +borne away to her chamber by old Madge. + +James Starr, hastening to the spot, read the threatening sentences +again and again. + +“The hand which traced these lines,” said he at length, “is the same +which wrote me the letter contradicting yours, Simon. The man calls +himself Silfax. I see by your troubled manner that you know him. Who is +this Silfax?” + + + + +CHAPTER XVII. +THE “MONK” + + +This name revealed everything to the old overman. It was that of the +last “monk” of the Dochart pit. + +In former days, before the invention of the safety-lamp, Simon had +known this fierce man, whose business it was to go daily, at the risk +of his life, to produce partial explosions of fire-damp in the +passages. He used to see this strange solitary being, prowling about +the mine, always accompanied by a monstrous owl, which he called +Harfang, who assisted him in his perilous occupation, by soaring with a +lighted match to places Silfax was unable to reach. + +One day this old man disappeared, and at the same time also, a little +orphan girl born in the mine, who had no relation but himself, her +great-grandfather. It was perfectly evident now that this child was +Nell. During the fifteen years, up to the time when she was saved by +Harry, they must have lived in some secret abyss of the mine. + +The old overman, full of mingled compassion and anger, made known to +the engineer and Harry all that the name of Silfax had revealed to him. +It explained the whole mystery. Silfax was the mysterious being so long +vainly sought for in the depths of New Aberfoyle. + +“So you knew him, Simon?” demanded Mr. Starr. + +“Yes, that I did,” replied the overman. “The Harfang man, we used to +call him. Why, he was old then! He must be fifteen or twenty years +older than I am. A wild, savage sort of fellow, who held aloof from +everyone and was known to fear nothing—neither fire nor water. It was +his own fancy to follow the trade of ‘monk,’ which few would have +liked. The constant danger of the business had unsettled his brain. He +was prodigiously strong, and he knew the mine as no one else—at any +rate, as well as I did. He lived on a small allowance. In faith, I +believed him dead years ago.” + +“But,” resumed James Starr, “what does he mean by those words, ‘You +have robbed me of the last vein of our old mine’?” + +“Ah! there it is,” replied Simon; “for a long time it had been a fancy +of his—I told you his mind was deranged—that he had a right to the mine +of Aberfoyle; so he became more and more savage in temper the deeper +the Dochart pit—his pit!—was worked out. It just seemed as if it was +his own body that suffered from every blow of the pickax. You must +remember that, Madge?” + +“Ay, that I do, Simon,” replied she. + +“I can recollect all this,” resumed Simon, “since I have seen the name +of Silfax on the door. But I tell you, I thought the man was dead, and +never imagined that the spiteful being we have so long sought for could +be the old fireman of the Dochart pit.” + +“Well, now, then,” said Starr, “it is all quite plain. Chance made +known to Silfax the new vein of coal. With the egotism of madness, he +believed himself the owner of a treasure he must conceal and defend. +Living in the mine, and wandering about day and night, he perceived +that you had discovered the secret, and had written in all haste to beg +me to come. Hence the letter contradicting yours; hence, after my +arrival, all the accidents that occurred, such as the block of stone +thrown at Harry, the broken ladder at the Yarrow shaft, the obstruction +of the openings into the wall of the new cutting; hence, in short, our +imprisonment, and then our deliverance, brought about by the kind +assistance of Nell, who acted of course without the knowledge of this +man Silfax, and contrary to his intentions.” + +“You describe everything exactly as it must have happened, Mr. Starr,” +returned old Simon. “The old ‘Monk’ is mad enough now, at any rate!” + +“All the better,” quoth Madge. + +“I don’t know that,” said Starr, shaking his head; “it is a terrible +sort of madness this.” + +“Ah! now I understand that the very thought of him must have terrified +poor little Nell, and also I see that she could not bear to denounce +her grandfather. What a miserable time she must have had of it with the +old man!” + +“Miserable with a vengeance,” replied Simon, “between that savage and +his owl, as savage as himself. Depend upon it, that bird isn’t dead. +That was what put our lamp out, and also so nearly cut the rope by +which Harry and Nell were suspended.” + +“And then, you see,” said Madge, “this news of the marriage of our son +with his granddaughter added to his rancor and ill-will.” + +“To be sure,” said Simon. “To think that his Nell should marry one of +the robbers of his own coal mine would just drive him wild altogether.” + +“He will have to make up his mind to it, however,” cried Harry. “Mad as +he is, we shall manage to convince him that Nell is better off with us +here than ever she was in the caverns of the pit. I am sure, Mr. Starr, +if we could only catch him, we should be able to make him listen to +reason.” + +“My poor Harry! there is no reasoning with a madman,” replied the +engineer. “Of course it is better to know your enemy than not; but you +must not fancy all is right because we have found out who he is. We +must be on our guard, my friends; and to begin with, Harry, you +positively must question Nell. She will perceive that her silence is no +longer reasonable. Even for her grandfather’s own interest, she ought +to speak now. For his own sake, as well as for ours, these insane plots +must be put a stop to.” + +“I feel sure, Mr. Starr,” answered Harry, “that Nell will of herself +propose to tell you what she knows. You see it was from a sense of duty +that she has been silent hitherto. My mother was very right to take her +to her room just now. She much needed time to recover her spirits; but +now I will go for her.” + +“You need not do so, Harry,” said the maiden in a clear and firm voice, +as she entered at that moment the room in which they were. Nell was +very pale; traces of tears were in her eyes; but her whole manner +showed that she had nerved herself to act as her loyal heart dictated +as her duty. + +“Nell!” cried Harry, springing towards her. + +The girl arrested her lover by a gesture, and continued, “Your father +and mother, and you, Harry, must now know all. And you too, Mr. Starr, +must remain ignorant of nothing that concerns the child you have +received, and whom Harry—unfortunately for him, alas!—drew from the +abyss.” + +“Oh, Nell! what are you saying?” cried Harry. + +“Allow her to speak,” said James Starr in a decided tone. + +“I am the granddaughter of old Silfax,” resumed Nell. “I never knew a +mother till the day I came here,” added she, looking at Madge. + +“Blessed be that day, my daughter!” said the old woman. + +“I knew no father till I saw Simon Ford,” continued Nell; “nor friend +till the day when Harry’s hand touched mine. Alone with my grandfather +I have lived during fifteen years in the remote and most solitary +depths of the mine. I say _with_ my grandfather, but I can scarcely use +the expression, for I seldom saw him. When he disappeared from Old +Aberfoyle, he concealed himself in caverns known only to himself. In +his way he was kind to me, dreadful as he was; he fed me with whatever +he could procure from outside the mine; but I can dimly recollect that +in my earliest years I was the nursling of a goat, the death of which +was a bitter grief to me. My grandfather, seeing my distress, brought +me another animal—a dog he said it was. But, unluckily, this dog was +lively, and barked. Grandfather did not like anything cheerful. He had +a horror of noise, and had taught me to be silent; the dog he could not +teach to be quiet, so the poor animal very soon disappeared. My +grandfather’s companion was a ferocious bird, Harfang, of which, at +first, I had a perfect horror; but this creature, in spite of my +dislike to it, took such a strong affection for me, that I could not +help returning it. It even obeyed me better than its master, which used +to make me quite uneasy, for my grandfather was jealous. Harfang and I +did not dare to let him see us much together; we both knew it would be +dangerous. But I am talking too much about myself: the great thing is +about you.” + +“No, my child,” said James Starr, “tell us everything that comes to +your mind.” + +“My grandfather,” continued Nell, “always regarded your abode in the +mine with a very evil eye—not that there was any lack of space. His +chosen refuge was far—very far from you. But he could not bear to feel +that you were there. If I asked any questions about the people up above +us, his face grew dark, he gave no answer, and continued quite silent +for a long time afterwards. But when he perceived that, not content +with the old domain, you seemed to think of encroaching upon his, then +indeed his anger burst forth. He swore that, were you to succeed in +reaching the new mine, you should assuredly perish. Notwithstanding his +great age, his strength is astonishing, and his threats used to make me +tremble.” + +“Go on, Nell, my child,” said Simon to the girl, who paused as though +to collect her thoughts. + +“On the occasion of your first attempt,” resumed Nell, “as soon as my +grandfather saw that you were fairly inside the gallery leading to New +Aberfoyle, he stopped up the opening, and turned it into a prison for +you. I only knew you as shadows dimly seen in the gloom of the pit, but +I could not endure the idea that you would die of hunger in these +horrid places; and so, at the risk of being detected, I succeeded in +obtaining bread and water for you during some days. I should have liked +to help you to escape, but it was so difficult to avoid the vigilance +of my grandfather. You were about to die. Then arrived Jack Ryan and +the others. By the providence of God I met with them, and instantly +guided them to where you were. When my grandfather discovered what I +had done, his rage against me was terrible. I expected death at his +hands. After that my life became insupportable to me. My grandfather +completely lost his senses. He proclaimed himself King of Darkness and +Flame; and when he heard your tools at work on coal-beds which he +considered entirely his own, he became furious and beat me cruelly. I +would have fled from him, but it was impossible, so narrowly did he +watch me. At last, in a fit of ungovernable fury, he threw me down into +the abyss where you found me, and disappeared, vainly calling on +Harfang, which faithfully stayed by me, to follow him. I know not how +long I remained there, but I felt I was at the point of death when you, +my Harry, came and saved me. But now you all see that the grandchild of +old Silfax can never be the wife of Harry Ford, because it would be +certain death to you all!” + +“Nell!” cried Harry. + +“No,” continued the maiden, “my resolution is taken. By one means only +can your ruin be averted; I must return to my grandfather. He threatens +to destroy the whole of New Aberfoyle. His is a soul incapable of mercy +or forgiveness, and no mortal can say to what horrid deed the spirit of +revenge will lead him. My duty is clear; I should be the most +despicable creature on earth did I hesitate to perform it. Farewell! I +thank you all heartily. You only have taught me what happiness is. +Whatever may befall, believe that my whole heart remains with you.” + +At these words, Simon, Madge, and Harry started up in an agony of +grief, exclaiming in tones of despair, “What, Nell! is it possible you +would leave us?” + +James Starr put them all aside with an air of authority, and, going +straight up to Nell, he took both her hands in his, saying quietly, +“Very right, my child; you have said exactly what you ought to say; and +now listen to what we have to say in reply. We shall not let you go +away; if necessary, we shall keep you by force. Do you think we could +be so base as to accept of your generous proposal? These threats of +Silfax are formidable—no doubt about it! But, after all, a man is but a +man, and we can take precautions. You will tell us, will you not, even +for his own sake, all you can about his habits and his lurking-places? +All we want to do is to put it out of his power to do harm, and perhaps +bring him to reason.” + +“You want to do what is quite impossible,” said Nell. “My grandfather +is everywhere and nowhere. I have never seen his retreats. I have never +seen him sleep. If he meant to conceal himself, he used to leave me +alone, and vanish. When I took my resolution, Mr. Starr, I was aware of +everything you could say against it. Believe me, there is but one way +to render Silfax powerless, and that will be by my return to him. +Invisible himself, he sees everything that goes on. Just think whether +it is likely he could discover your very thoughts and intentions, from +that time when the letter was written to Mr. Starr, up to now that my +marriage with Harry has been arranged, if he did not possess the +extraordinary faculty of knowing everything. As far as I am able to +judge, my grandfather, in his very insanity, is a man of most powerful +mind. He formerly used to talk to me on very lofty subjects. He taught +me the existence of God, and never deceived me but on one point, which +was—that he made me believe that all men were base and perfidious, +because he wished to inspire me with his own hatred of all the human +race. When Harry brought me to the cottage, you thought I was simply +ignorant of mankind, but, far beyond that, I was in mortal fear of you +all. Ah, forgive me! I assure you, for many days I believed myself in +the power of wicked wretches, and I longed to escape. You, Madge, first +led me to perceive the truth, not by anything you said, but by the +sight of your daily life, for I saw that your husband and son loved and +respected you! Then all these good and happy workmen, who so revere and +trust Mr. Starr, I used to think they were slaves; and when, for the +first time, I saw the whole population of Aberfoyle come to church and +kneel down to pray to God, and praise Him for His infinite goodness, I +said to myself, ‘My grandfather has deceived me.’ But now, enlightened +by all you have taught me, I am inclined to think he himself is +deceived. I mean to return to the secret passages I formerly frequented +with him. He is certain to be on the watch. I will call to him; he will +hear me, and who knows but that, by returning to him, I may be able to +bring him to the knowledge of the truth?” + +The maiden spoke without interruption, for all felt that it was good +for her to open her whole heart to her friends. + +But when, exhausted by emotion, and with eyes full of tears, she ceased +speaking, Harry turned to old Madge and said, “Mother, what should you +think of the man who could forsake the noble girl whose words you have +been listening to?” + +“I should think he was a base coward,” said Madge, “and, were he my +son, I should renounce and curse him.” + +“Nell, do you hear what our mother says?” resumed Harry. “Wherever you +go I will follow you. If you persist in leaving us, we will go away +together.” + +“Harry! Harry!” cried Nell. + +Overcome by her feelings, the girl’s lips blanched, and she sank into +the arms of Madge, who begged she might be left alone with her. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII. +NELL’S WEDDING + + +It was agreed that the inhabitants of the cottage must keep more on +their guard than ever. The threats of old Silfax were too serious to be +disregarded. It was only too possible that he possessed some terrible +means by which the whole of Aberfoyle might be annihilated. + +Armed sentinels were posted at the various entrances to the mine, with +orders to keep strict watch day and night. Any stranger entering the +mine was brought before James Starr, that he might give an account of +himself. There being no fear of treason among the inhabitants of Coal +Town, the threatened danger to the subterranean colony was made known +to them. Nell was informed of all the precautions taken, and became +more tranquil, although she was not free from uneasiness. Harry’s +determination to follow her wherever she went compelled her to promise +not to escape from her friends. + +During the week preceding the wedding, no accident whatever occurred in +Aberfoyle. The system of watching was carefully maintained, but the +miners began to recover from the panic, which had seriously interrupted +the work of excavation. James Starr continued to look out for Silfax. +The old man having vindictively declared that Nell should never marry +Simon’s son, it was natural to suppose that he would not hesitate to +commit any violent deed which would hinder their union. + +The examination of the mine was carried on minutely. Every passage and +gallery was searched, up to those higher ranges which opened out among +the ruins of Dundonald Castle. It was rightly supposed that through +this old building Silfax passed out to obtain what was needful for the +support of his miserable existence (which he must have done, either by +purchasing or thieving). + +As to the “fire-maidens,” James Starr began to think that appearance +must have been produced by some jet of fire-damp gas which, issuing +from that part of the pit, could be lighted by Silfax. He was not far +wrong; but all search for proof of this was fruitless, and the +continued strain of anxiety in this perpetual effort to detect a +malignant and invisible being rendered the engineer—outwardly calm—an +unhappy man. + +As the wedding-day approached, his dread of some catastrophe increased, +and he could not but speak of it to the old overman, whose uneasiness +soon more than equaled his own. At length the day came. Silfax had +given no token of existence. + +By daybreak the entire population of Coal Town was astir. Work was +suspended; overseers and workmen alike desired to do honor to Simon +Ford and his son. They all felt they owed a large debt of gratitude to +these bold and persevering men, by whose means the mine had been +restored to its former prosperity. The ceremony was to take place at +eleven o’clock, in St. Giles’s chapel, which stood on the shores of +Loch Malcolm. + +At the appointed time, Harry left the cottage, supporting his mother on +his arm, while Simon led the bride. Following them came Starr, the +engineer, composed in manner, but in reality nerved to expect the +worst, and Jack Ryan, stepping superb in full Highland piper’s costume. +Then came the other mining engineers, the principal people of Coal +Town, the friends and comrades of the old overman—every member of this +great family of miners forming the population of New Aberfoyle. + +In the outer world, the day was one of the hottest of the month of +August, peculiarly oppressive in northern countries. The sultry air +penetrated the depths of the coal mine, and elevated the temperature. +The air which entered through the ventilating shafts, and the great +tunnel of Loch Malcolm, was charged with electricity, and the +barometer, it was afterwards remarked, had fallen in a remarkable +manner. There was, indeed, every indication that a storm might burst +forth beneath the rocky vault which formed the roof of the enormous +crypt of the very mine itself. + +But the inhabitants were not at that moment troubling themselves about +the chances of atmospheric disturbance above ground. Everybody, as a +matter of course, had put on his best clothes for the occasion. Madge +was dressed in the fashion of days gone by, wearing the “toy” and the +“rokelay,” or Tartan plaid, of matrons of the olden time, old Simon +wore a coat of which Bailie Nicol Jarvie himself would have approved. + +Nell had resolved to show nothing of her mental agitation; she forbade +her heart to beat, or her inward terrors to betray themselves, and the +brave girl appeared before all with a calm and collected aspect. She +had declined every ornament of dress, and the very simplicity of her +attire added to the charming elegance of her appearance. Her hair was +bound with the “snood,” the usual head-dress of Scottish maidens. + +All proceeded towards St. Giles’s chapel, which had been handsomely +decorated for the occasion. + +The electric discs of light which illuminated Coal Town blazed like so +many suns. A luminous atmosphere pervaded New Aberfoyle. In the chapel, +electric lamps shed a glow over the stained-glass windows, which shone +like fiery kaleidoscopes. At the porch of the chapel the minister +awaited the arrival of the wedding party. + +It approached, after having passed in stately procession along the +shore of Loch Malcolm. Then the tones of the organ were heard, and, +preceded by the minister, the group advanced into the chapel. The +Divine blessing was first invoked on all present. Then Harry and Nell +remained alone before the minister, who, holding the sacred book in his +hand, proceeded to say, “Harry, will you take Nell to be your wife, and +will you promise to love her always?” + +“I promise,” answered the young man in a firm and steady voice. + +“And you, Nell,” continued the minister, “will you take Harry to be +your husband, and—” + +Before he could finish the sentence, a prodigious noise resounded from +without. One of the enormous rocks, on which was formed the terrace +overhanging the banks of Loch Malcolm, had suddenly given way and +opened without explosion, disclosing a profound abyss, into which the +waters were now wildly plunging. + +In another instant, among the shattered rocks and rushing waves +appeared a canoe, which a vigorous arm propelled along the surface of +the lake. In the canoe was seen the figure of an old man standing +upright. He was clothed in a dark mantle, his hair was dishevelled, a +long white beard fell over his breast, and in his hand he bore a +lighted Davy safety lamp, the flame being protected by the metallic +gauze of the apparatus. + +In a loud voice this old man shouted, “The fire-damp is upon you! +Woe—woe betide ye all!” + +At the same moment the slight smell peculiar to carburetted hydrogen +was perceptibly diffused through the atmosphere. And, in truth, the +fall of the rock had made a passage of escape for an enormous quantity +of explosive gas, accumulated in vast cavities, the openings to which +had hitherto been blocked up. + +Jets and streams of the fire-damp now rose upward in the vaulted dome; +and well did that fierce old man know that the consequence of what he +had done would be to render explosive the whole atmosphere of the mine. + +James Starr and several others, having hastily quitted the chapel, and +perceived the imminence of the danger, now rushed back, crying out in +accents of the utmost alarm, “Fly from the mine! Fly instantly from the +mine!” + +“Now for the fire-damp! Here comes the fire-damp!” yelled the old man, +urging his canoe further along the lake. + +Harry with his bride, his father and his mother, left the chapel in +haste and in terror. + +“Fly! fly for your lives!” repeated James Starr. Alas! it was too late +to fly! Old Silfax stood there, prepared to fulfill his last dreadful +threat—prepared to stop the marriage of Nell and Harry by overwhelming +the entire population of the place beneath the ruins of the coal mine. + +As he stood ready to accomplish this act of vengeance, his enormous +owl, whose white plumage was marked with black spots, was seen hovering +directly above his head. + +At that moment a man flung himself into the waters of the lake, and +swam vigorously towards the canoe. + +It was Jack Ryan, fully determined to reach the madman before he could +do the dreadful deed of destruction. + +Silfax saw him coming. Instantly he smashed the glass of his lamp, and, +snatching out the burning wick, waved it in the air. + +Silence like death fell upon the astounded multitude. James Starr, in +the calmness of despair, marvelled that the inevitable explosion was +even for a moment delayed. + +Silfax, gazing upwards with wild and contracted features, appeared to +become aware that the gas, lighter than the lower atmosphere, was +accumulating far up under the dome; and at a sign from him the owl, +seizing in its claw the lighted match, soared upwards to the vaulted +roof, towards which the madman pointed with outstretched arm. + +Another second and New Aberfoyle would be no more. + +Suddenly Nell sprang from Harry’s arms, and, with a bright look of +inspiration, she ran to the very brink of the waters of the lake. +“Harfang! Harfang!” cried she in a clear voice; “here! come to me!” + +The faithful bird, surprised, appeared to hesitate in its flight. +Presently, recognizing Nell’s voice, it dropped the burning match into +the water, and, describing a wide circle, flew downwards, alighting at +the maiden’s feet. + +Then a terrible cry echoed through the vaulted roofs. It was the last +sound uttered by old Silfax. + +Just as Jack Ryan laid his hand on the edge of the canoe, the old man, +foiled in his purpose of revenge, cast himself headlong into the waters +of the lake. + +“Save him! oh, save him!” shrieked Nell in a voice of agony. +Immediately Harry plunged into the water, and, swimming towards Jack +Ryan, he dived repeatedly. + +But his efforts were useless. The waters of Loch Malcolm yielded not +their prey: they closed forever over Silfax. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX. +THE LEGEND OF OLD SILFAX + + +Six months after these events, the marriage, so strangely interrupted, +was finally celebrated in St. Giles’s chapel, and the young couple, who +still wore mourning garments, returned to the cottage. James Starr and +Simon Ford, henceforth free from the anxieties which had so long +distressed them, joyously presided over the entertainment which +followed the ceremony, and prolonged it to the following day. + +On this memorable occasion, Jack Ryan, in his favorite character of +piper, and in all the glory of full dress, blew up his chanter, and +astonished the company by the unheard of achievement of playing, +singing, and dancing all at once. + +It is needless to say that Harry and Nell were happy. These loving +hearts, after the trials they had gone through found in their union the +happiness they deserved. + +As to Simon Ford, the ex-overman of New Aberfoyle, he began to talk of +celebrating his golden wedding, after fifty years of marriage with good +old Madge, who liked the idea immensely herself. + +“And after that, why not golden wedding number two?” + +“You would like a couple of fifties, would you, Mr. Simon?” said Jack +Ryan. + +“All right, my boy,” replied the overman quietly, “I see nothing +against it in this fine climate of ours, and living far from the luxury +and intemperance of the outer world.” + +Will the dwellers in Coal Town ever be called to witness this second +ceremony? Time will show. Certainly the strange bird of old Silfax +seemed destined to attain a wonderful longevity. The Harfang continued +to haunt the gloomy recesses of the cave. After the old man’s death, +Nell had attempted to keep the owl, but in a very few days he flew +away. He evidently disliked human society as much as his master had +done, and, besides that, he appeared to have a particular spite against +Harry. The jealous bird seemed to remember and hate him for having +carried off Nell from the deep abyss, notwithstanding all he could do +to prevent him. Still, at long intervals, Nell would see the creature +hovering above Loch Malcolm. + +Could he possibly be watching for his friend of yore? Did he strive to +pierce, with keen eye, the depths which had engulfed his master? + +The history of the Harfang became legendary, and furnished Jack Ryan +with many a tale and song. Thanks to him, the story of old Silfax and +his bird will long be preserved, and handed down to future generations +of the Scottish peasantry. + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 1355 *** |