_ CHAPTER TWELVE. THE MAJOR HAS STRANGE SYMPTOMS
"Whatever is the meaning of all this?" panted the Colonel, as Major Jollivet came up more slowly, looking weak and pale, but urged on by his excitement, to their side.
Gwyn blurted out something incoherent, for he was too much exhausted to speak plainly, and stared confusedly at his father.
"What?" cried the latter; "I can't understand you. Here, Joe Jollivet, what have you to say?"
"Blurr--blurr--bline!" babbled Joe.
"Splendid cuts, Pendarve. The grand old form," panted Major Jollivet. "You--you--you--sent--sent--the blood--der--der--dancing through--in--my veins."
"Yes, I flatter myself, he had them home," said the Colonel, smiling with satisfaction. "Regular old pursuing practice. Lucky for him it was not the steel. But what is it all about? Who is the fellow? Was he trying to rob you?"
"No--you, father," stuttered Gwyn. "C-caught him--mum--measuring the mine. Took away--his line."
"What? You boys did?"
Joe nodded, still too breathless to speak, and not feeling disposed to utter incoherent sounds again.
"Yes--father--Joe's got it."
"Ha! ha! ha!" laughed the Colonel. "It seems to me that you've both got it. Do you know that your nose is bleeding, sir?"
Gwyn gave that organ the aboriginal wipe, drawing the back of his hand across his face, looked at it and saw that it was covered with blood.
"No--didn't know, father," he said, taking out his handkerchief now. "Yes, it does bleed."
"Bleed, yes! Why, you have had a regular fight, then?"
"Running fight, seemingly," said the Major, grimly. "Tut--tut--tut! What a disreputable pair of young blackguards they look."
"Never mind," said the Colonel, suavely. "They did quite right to attack the enemy, even if he was in greater force. But I don't quite understand it, Gwyn. Did he say he was measuring the mine?"
"No, father; but we saw him doing it."
"But how could he know anything about it? The man was a stranger to me."
"I never saw him before, father?"
"Humph!" ejaculated the Colonel, turning to the Major, "I'm glad I brought you out to have a look. Pretty good proof that someone believes the old mine to be valuable, eh?"
"Yes, or a trick to make it seem so."
"Pooh! Impossible! It might be if someone wanted to sell the mine; but it is not for sale, and not likely to be. So you found him measuring-- sounding, I suppose you mean?"
"Yes, sir," said Joe. "Here's the line, and it seems to have knots in it to show the depth."
For the boy was busily reeling up the loose cord, and walking back toward where the leaden weight had twined it round the piece of granite.
Joe set this free, and it proved to be a regular fishing sinker.
"But what did the fellow say to give you an excuse for attacking him as you did?"
"Said he was fishing, father," replied Gwyn; "but that was only his insolence."
"Might have been stupid enough to think he could fish there," said the Major.
"No; he meant to find out something about the place. It is being talked about the--"
"Yes, a good deal," said the Major, significantly. "Well, as you have brought me here to see it, you may as well show me the hole."
By this time the line was all wound up, and the Colonel led the way back to the mine, where, just as they reached the rough stone-wall, Gwyn ran forward and picked up a common memorandum book, which had fallen, to lie half-hidden amongst the heath.
A roughly pointed lead pencil was between the leaves, which opened to show that the owner had been making notes; but that he was not accustomed to the work was evident from the spelling, the first entry reading as follows:--
"_Dounter warter 30 fathom_."
The second,--
"_Dounter botm 49 fathom an narf_."
The third entry was,--
"_Lot warter in thole as mus be pumpt out_."
Then came a series of hieroglyphics which puzzled Gwyn; and, after a long trial, he handed the book to his father, who looked at it for some time, and then shook his head, as he passed it to the Major.
"I'm not scholar enough for this, Jollivet," he said. "Will you have a try?"
"No; I haven't brought my glasses. Here, Joe, what does this say?"
Joe, who had been all eagerness to begin, caught at the book, and tried to decipher the roughly-written words, but got on no better than the rest.
"Let me try again," cried Gwyn.
"No, no; I haven't done yet," said Joe; "but it looks all rubbish. No one can make this out."
"Spell it over," said his father, and the boy began.
"H-o-r-s-i-m-s-p-o-o-t-e-t-y-de-b-i-t-h-e-t-o-p-e."
"What does that spell? It's all one word."
"Read it again," said Gwyn, excitedly; and Joe repeated the letters.
"I know. Can't you see?" cried Gwyn, laughing.
Joe shook his head, and the two old officers looked nonplussed.
"What is it, Gwyn?" said his father. "Speak out, if you know."
"Ore seems pretty tidy by the top."
"No; nonsense!" cried the Colonel.
"It is, father," said Gwyn. "You read it over again, Joe."
The letters were once more repeated, and the Major exclaimed,--
"That's it, sure enough."
"Then there must be something in it," cried Colonel Pendarve. "The place is being talked about, and this fellow, who is evidently experienced in such matters, has been sent on to act as a spy. But how does he know about the depth?"
"Line's all knotted in six-feet lengths, sir," said Joe.
"Then I'm much obliged to him for taking the measures; but let's try for ourselves. You would like to see the depth tried, Jollivet."
"I? No, certainly not. Why should I?" cried the Major, testily.
"Because I presume you will take some interest in seeing me succeed if I go on with the venture."
"Oh! Well, yes, of course. Going to try now?"
"I am," replied the Colonel. "Will you boys let down the leaden sinker? Be careful, mind. Will you hold the reel, Joe? and then Gwyn can count the knots as the line runs down."
"All right, sir," cried Joe; and the Major took his place by the wall to look on while, after stationing themselves, Gwyn counted three knots, so as to get a little loose line, then took tight hold and pitched the lead from him, letting the stout cord run between his finger and thumb, and counting aloud as it went down, stopping at thirty by tightening his grasp on the line.
"He's wrong, father; thirty fathoms, and there's no water yet."
"Try a little lower, boy."
The line began to run again, and there was a faint plash before half of another fathom had been reeled off.
"Not so very far out," said the Major, as Gwyn went on counting and the reel turned steadily on, Joe turning one finger into a brake, and checking the spool so that it would not give out the line too fast.
On went the counting, the words coming mechanically from Gwyn's lips as he thought all the while about his terrible fall, and wondered how deep down he had gone beneath the black water.
"Forty-seven--forty-eight--forty-nine--fifty," counted Gwyn.
"Bottom?" cried the Colonel.
"No, father; he must have let it catch on some ledge or piece that stuck out. Look, the lead's going steadily on. He said forty-nine: I've counted fifty, and there it goes--fifty-one--fifty-two," and to the surprise of all, the line ran out till another twenty fathoms had passed off the reel.
"Seventy fathoms, father. That's bottom," said Gwyn, hauling up and letting the line run again with the same result.
"Hah, yes," said the Colonel; "and that means so many thousand gallons more water to be pumped out. But try again. Jerk the lead, and let it shoot down. Perhaps you have not quite sounded the bottom yet."
Gwyn obeyed, and the result was again the same.
"Seventy fathoms. Well, that is not deep compared to some of the mines; but it proves that there must have been profitable work going on for the people, whoever they were, to have gone on cutting through the hard stone. A tremendous task, Jollivet."
"Hang it, yes, I suppose so. Well, there is nothing more to be done or seen, is there?"
"Not at present. Only to reel up the line our visitor has been so obliging as to lend us."
"Wind away, Joe," cried Gwyn; "and I'll let the string pass through my fingers, so as to wring off some of the water."
The boys began to gather in the sounding-cord, and the Major stood peering down over the wall into the black depths and poking at a loose stone on the top of the wall with his cane.
"Seems rather childish," he said suddenly; "but should you mind, Pendarve, if I dislodged this stone and let it fall down the shaft?"
"Mind? Certainly not. Go on. Here, shall I do it?"
"No. I should prefer doing it myself," said the Major; and standing his cane against the wall, he took hold of the stone and stood it upon the edge.
"Stop!" cried the Colonel as he noted that the under part of the stone glistened, as granite will.
"What's the matter?"
"That piece of stone," said the Colonel, excitedly. "Why, man, look; it is rich in tin ore."
"That blackish-purple glittering stuff?"
"Yes; those are tin grains. But there, it does not matter. Throw it in. We can have it sent up again when the mine is pumped out. In with it."
The Major raised the stone with both hands face high and threw it from him, while all watched him, and then stood waiting for the heavy hollow-sounding splash which followed, with the lapping of the water against the sides.
"It is strange," said the Major, "what a peculiar fascination a place like this exercises over me, Pendarve. I feel just as if I could leap down into--"
As he spoke, he leaned over the low wall as if drawn toward the place, and his son turned ghastly white and uttered a faint cry. _