before them, and most of them swallowed the bait
whole, only one or two being content to nibble.

When afternoon began to merge into evening Mr Clearemout paid a last
visit for the day--but not in the West End, rather nearer to the City--
to a gentleman somewhat like himself, though less prepossessing, for
whose benefit he painted no glowing picture of a mine, but to whom he
said, "Come, Jack, I've made a pretty good job of it; let's go and have
a chop. If your luck has equalled mine the thing is done, and Wheal
Dooem, as I have named the sweet little thing, will be going full swing
in a couple of weeks--costing, perhaps, a few hundreds to put it in
working order, with a trifle thereafter in the shape of wages to a man
and a boy to coal the fire, and keep the thing moving with as much noise
as possible to make a show, and leaving a pretty little balance of some
twenty or thirty thousand at the credit of the Company, for you and me
to enjoy in the meantime--_minus_ a small sum for rent of office,
clerk's salary, gas and coal, etcetera, as long as the bubble lasts."

Thus did this polite scoundrel go about from house to house getting up a
Cornish Mining Company on false pretences (as other polite scoundrels
have done before, and doubtless as others will do again), bringing into
unmerited disrepute those genuine and grand old mines of Cornwall which
have yielded stores of tin and copper, to the enriching of the English
nation, ever since those old-world days when the Phoenicians sailed
their adventurous barks to the "Cassiterides" in quest of tin.

While these things were being done in London, a terrible catastrophe
happened in Botallack mine, which threw a dark cloud for some time over
more than one lowly cottage in St. Just.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN.

DESCRIBES "HOLING TO A HOUSE OF WATER" AND ITS TERRIBLE CONSEQUENCES.

One morning, about seven o'clock, George and James, the two fair-haired
sons of poor John Batten of Botallack, started for their work as usual.
They were in high spirits, having obtained a good "pitch" on last
setting-day, and things were looking well.

They put on their underground clothing at the changing-house, and with
several spare candles attached to buttons on the breasts of their coats,
and their tools slung over their shoulders, walked towards the head of
the ladder-shaft. At the mouth of the shaft they paused for a moment
and glanced round. The sky was bright, the landscape green, and the