Читать книгу Judith of the Red Hand - J. Monk Foster - Страница 7

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Some two or three days after the visit of the Blackwoods to the house of their master, a man from the Hill End Colliery sped hastily through the village, and coming to the end house near the river bridge, where manager and underlooker lived, he beat a sharp rat-tat on the closed door. It was opened almost immediately by the housekeeper, Mrs. Sampson, a clean old dame of fifty or so.

"What is it, Bradshaw?" she demanded of the man.

"I want young Blackwood at once."

"He's in bed asleep; was working all last night, and only got home at 8 this morning. I don't like wakening him, unless it's something very particular."

"It's very particular," the man cried. "Both master and old Blackwood sent me. There's been an accident at the colliery, and Gabriel is to come at once."

"All right, come in and wait then."

In half a minute the woman was bombarding the door of young Blackwood's sleeping chamber; in a minute he understood why he was so summarily disturbed; in five minutes he had tossed on his working clothes, and was speeding towards the colliery with the man Bradshaw, who was answering the other's swift questions.

"The water's broken in; that's all I can tell you, Blackwood. It must be the water from the Slackey Brow workings, where you and the others were boring last night. It happened about half-past eleven they say, and it's only dinner time now. Your father and Master Haliburton were in the engine-house when about a dozen colliers and lads came rushing up the tunnel. Then Seth and Silas went down the tunnel, after telling me to fetch you at once. That's all I know. But I hope to God it is nothing serious; for my lad works in the mine."

"That is my hope, too, Bradshaw!" Gabriel cried, fervently. "Well, we shall soon know the best or worst, and I am right glad you fetched me at once. But I wish our old man and the master hadn't rushed into the mine at once. How many have come out, did you say?"

"Ten or a dozen."

"Were all the hands at work this morning?"

"I heard your father tell Master Haliburton that there was five and forty men an' lads at work this mornin'," the man replied.

"Forty-five—only a dozen or so out," Gabriel muttered. "That looks bad enough, Jack. But we must hope for the best. Perhaps more of them are out by this. Surely, the outburst could never be so thick and strong as to force them all back. Anyhow, we must do all we can."

While talking the speakers had been forging along the hillside road, and in a minute or two were standing on the levelled space near the tunnel's mouth. Here a score or so of men and youths—miners and surface labourers—were congregated; also a cluster of pit-brow women who worked there. Among them Gabriel described the tall, supple form and red-gold head of Judith Trafford. But he had no time then to do more than throw her a swift glance.

All work was suspended for the nonce, full and empty boxes were scattered about the adit's mouth, the shoots and screens were abandoned, and steam was blowing off near the engine-house.

"Any more men come out, Paxton?" Gabriel cried, addressing the long, lean, leathern-visaged banksman.

"Not since Master Blackwood and the gaffer went down the tunnel, sir."

"How many have come out?—how many are in yet?" the underlooker asked, sharply.

"Eleven out—thirty-four in!" was the prompt reply.

"Who brought the news of the water breaking in?" and Blackwood cast his eyes over the miners present.

"It was me, Gabriel!" and a black-faced, crop-headed man stepped from the crowd. "The water's broken in at Ned Watkinson's place—where you was boring—and we had to make a rush for our lives."

"I want two or three to go with me into the mine. Who will volunteer? A day's wages for each man that goes."

Three men stepped out promptly at the young fellow's words, and in five minutes they had lit their lamps anew, and at Gabriel's heels were plunging down under the hill along the black void of the tunnel. For about four hundred yards the underlooker flew on and then came to a sudden stop, with his hand to his ear.

His followers did the same, and then on the hearing of all there a dull thunderous roar of tumbling, surging waters broke. It was as if an underground sea was pent up there—as if a subterranean torrent was racing through the mine's galleries—and the miners looked blankly at one another for an instant.

Then Gabriel sprang forward once more, the miners at his heels, and when they all paused again it was on the marge of the freed flood, which was splashing and boiling, gurgling and eddying at their feet.