egan; and to the left of
this was the rather perilous way by which an active man could get down
to the mass of tumbled rocks at the cliff foot, and from there walk
right out on the western point which sheltered the cove from the fierce
wind and waves.

"All nonsense, Jolly," whispered Gwyn after they had stood for a few
moments gazing down at where the waves broke softly with a
phosphorescent light. "I won't go."

But as the boy spoke there was a loud clink from far below, as if an
iron bar had struck against a stone, and the lad's heart began to beat
hard with excitement.

Then all was silent again for nearly five minutes, and the darkness, the
faint, pale, lambent light shed by the waves, and the silence, produced
a strange shrinking sensation that was almost painful.

"Shall we go down?" said Joe, in a whisper.

"And break our necks? No, thank you. There, come back, he has only
gone to set a line for conger."

"Hist!" whispered Joe, for at that moment, plainly heard, there came up
to where they stood a peculiar thumping sound, as of a mason working
with a tamping-iron upon stone.

"Now," whispered Joe. "What does he mean by that?"

CHAPTER FORTY TWO.

MINING MATTERS.

The boys stayed there some time listening to the clinking sound, and
then, feeling obliged to go, they hurried away.

"Tell you what," said Gwyn, as they parted at last, "we'll wait till he
has gone down the mine to-morrow morning, and then either go by the
cliff or round by the cove head, and see what he has been about. I say
it's a conger-line, and we may find one on."

"Perhaps so," said Joe, thoughtfully. "Ydoll, old chap, I don't like
Tom Dinass."

"Nor I, neither. But what's the matter now?"

"I'm afraid he broke poor Grip's legs."

"What? Nonsense! He wouldn't be such a brute. No man would."

"Well, I hope not; but I can't help thinking sometimes that he did. You
see, the smelting-house door might have swung-to and shut him in with
Dinass and he might have flown at him, and Dinass might have struck at
him with one of the stoking-irons and broken his legs, and then been
afraid and thrown him down the mine."

"And pigs might fly, but they're very unlikely birds."

"Well, we shall see," said Joe; and he hurried home to find his father
asleep, while Gwyn, before going in, went on tiptoe to the vinery and
crept in, to hear the dog snoring. Satisfied with this, he walked round
the house fully prepared to receive