ainst the light glistering walls.

"A curious place, and a singular man!" observed the captain; "that
fellow's family is not a small one.--Hallo! James Martin."

"Hallo! Captain Dan," replied the miner, looking down.

"How many children have you had?"

"How many child'n say 'ee?"

"Ay, how many?"

"I've had nineteen, sur, an' there's eight of 'em alive. Seven of 'em
came in three year an six months, sur--three doubles an' a single, but
them uns are all gone dead, sur."

"How old are you, Jim?"

"Forty-seven, sur."

"Your brother Tom is at work here, isn't he?"

"Iss, in the south level, drivin' the end."

"How many children has Tom had, Jim?"

"Seventeen, sur, an' seven of 'em's alive; but Tom's only thirty-eight
years old, sur." [See note 1.]

"Good-morning, Jim."

"Good-morning, Captain Dan," replied the sturdy miner, resuming his
work.

"Good specimens of men these," said the captain, with a quiet smile, to
Oliver. "Of course I don't mean to say that all the miners hereabouts
are possessed of such large families--nevertheless there are, as I dare
say you have observed, a good many children in and about St. Just!"

Proceeding onward they diverged into a branch level, where a number of
men were working overhead; boring holes into the roof and burrowing
upwards. They all drove onwards through flinty rock by the same slow
and toilsome process that has already been described--namely, by
chipping with the pick, driving holes with the borer, and blasting with
gunpowder.

As the Captain and Oliver traversed this part of the mine they had
occasionally to squeeze past small iron trucks which stood below holes
in the sides of the level, down which ever and anon masses of ore and
debris came from the workings above with a hard crashing noise. The ore
was rich with tin, but the metal was invisible to any but trained eyes.
To Oliver Trembath the whole stuff appeared like wet rubbish.

Suddenly a low muffled report echoed through the cavernous place. It
was followed by five or six similar reports in succession.

"They are blasting," said Captain Dan.

As he spoke, the thick muddy shoes and brick-dust legs of a man appeared
coming down the hole that had previously discharged ore. The man
himself followed his legs, and, alighting thereon, saluted Captain Dan
with a free-and-easy "Good-morning." Another man followed him; from a
different part of the surrounding darkness a third made his appearance,