e roof, or on the walls.

"Ore," he said, with a chuckle. "I didn't come to your father, Master
Gwyn, with empty hands, did I? Well, I'm glad he woke up to what it's
all worth. Here we are."

He stopped short, for they had come to the shaft, and his light showed
up the strong beams and wet iron ties which held the machinery in place.
There were a couple of men here, too, with lanthorns hanging from what
seemed to be a cross-beam. On their right, was a wet-looking ladder,
whose rounds glistened, and this ran up into darkness, where a great
beam had been fixed, with a square hole where the top of the ladder
rested, the light from above being almost entirely cut off.

The men said something to Hardock, but their words were almost inaudible
in the rattle and clank of the great pump, and the wash and rush of the
water as it was drawn into a huge trough, and rushed from it into the
adit.

Hardock gave them a nod in reply, and then signed to the boys as he
swung his lanthorn.

"Come and look here," he shouted; and, with their bare feet slipping on
the wet planks that were just loosely laid across the beams fitted into
the old holes, cut no one knew when, in the sides of the shaft, they
went down to where Hardock dropped on his knees and held the lanthorn
through an opening, so that the light was reflected from the water,
whose level was about a foot below where they now stood.

"See that?" he shouted, so as to make his voice heard.

"What, the water?" cried Gwyn. "Yes."

"No, no; my mark that I made in the wall with a pick?"

"Oh, yes; the granite looks quite white," said Gwyn, as he looked at the
roughly-cut notch some six inches long.

"How far is the water below it?" cried Hardock.

"About seven inches, eh, Joe?"

"Nearly eight."

"Then you may go up and tell your father the good news. He'll like to
hear it from you. Tell him that we've lowered the water seven inches
since the pump started, and if nothing goes wrong, we shall soon be
making a stage lower down."

"But what should go wrong?" cried Joe, who looked full of excitement.

"A hundred things, my lad. Machinery's a ticklish thing, and as for a
mine, you never know what's going to happen from one hour to another.
Go on, up with you both, my lads; it's news they'll be glad to hear, and
you ought to be proud to take it."

"We are," cried Gwyn, heartily. "It's splendid, Sam. You have done
well."

"Tidy, my lad, tidy. Will you go up the la