n, sir," said Dinass, "and hear what they
say?"

The answer came from the doorway, where three or four heads appeared,
and one of the owners said:

"I say, mates, aren't it time we heerd something about them as is gone
down?"

"Yes," said Gwyn, firmly; "we're going down to see. Will you come with
me, Joe?"

The boy's lips parted, though no words came; but he put out his hand and
gripped his companion's fast.

"Get lights, some of you, quick!" cried Gwyn; and a murmur was heard
outside, a murmur that increased till it was a loud cheer; and then,
distinctly from outside, a voice was heard to say,--

"Hear that, mates? The young masters are going down."

And as if to endorse this, Grip, who had suddenly grown excited, burst
into a loud bark.

CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE.

TRUE TO THE CORE.

"Do you mean it, Master Gwyn?" said Dinass, sharply.

"Mean it? Of course. You'll come with us and help."

The man's mouth opened widely, and he stared for a few moments before he
spoke,--

"Help to get lanthorns and candles, sir? Yes, of course."

"Come down with us," said Gwyn, sharply. "You can't let us go alone."

"Not let you go alone, sir," growled the man, surlily. "Well, you
see--"

"Yes, we see," cried Gwyn, "you have been used to mines, we have not."

"Much used to this one as I am, sir. I don't know no more about it than
you do."

"'Course you don't, matey," said the engineer, "but you can't say you
won't go with 'em to look for the guv'nors and our mate."

"Can't I? Yes, I can," cried Dinass, fiercely; "easy; I won't go--
there!"

"Yah!" came in a fierce growl from the men outside.

"Ah, but you don't mean it," cried the engineer.

"Yes, I do," cried Dinass. "Don't you be so precious handy sending
people where they don't want to go. Why don't you go yourself?"

"How can I go?" said the engineer, sharply. "My dooty's here. Can you
manage the skep and rope?"

"How do I know till I try?" growled Dinass.

"Try? Why, you'd be doing some mischief. I've no right to leave my
work while anyone's down, and I won't leave it; but I'd go if I was
free."

"Tom Dinass will go," said Joe. "You can't leave us in the lurch like
this."

"'Course not: it's his gammon," cried a man at the opening into the
shed-like place. "You'll go, mate."

"Ay, he'll go," rose in chorus.

"No, he won't," said Dinass, angrily. "I get five-and-twenty shilling a
week for working here, not for going to chuck a