there,' pointing with his pipe towards the pit. 'And maybe ye'll
forget the missis and me when ye gets to be a great man, as ye says
ye'll be one day, and I makes no doubt but ye will be too. Ye be summat
like yer poor fayther, my lad; he were allers above we.'

'Nay, Master Morgan!' cried the boy reproachfully; 'were you not my
first friend, when dear father died? You don't mean that, I know!
looking up at his old friend's rugged face with eyes full of tears.
Then, brushing them away with his jacket sleeve,--it was not manly to
cry, he thought,--he continued, 'No, when I am rich, you and Mrs. Morgan
shall both live in a big house with mother and me; we will ride in a
grand carriage, and be so happy all together, and never look at black
coals except to burn them.'

The old miner smiled as he listened to the boy's bright day-dreams, yet
still he could not help feeling somewhat sad, for he dearly loved the
lad, and knew how much he should miss his merry chatter and song, which
so beguiled the time while they worked together down in the mine.

But the time passed on much as on other days; when, just as they were
preparing to leave off work, and another gang was coming to relieve
them, a low, rumbling sound was heard. One or two of the men ran to the
entrance of the working, Mat Morgan among the number, and his face was
blanched when he returned to his comrades.

'What is it, Master Morgan?' asked Davie, looking up at him with an
undefined dread.

'My lad,' was his reply, and his voice was very calm, 'there has been a
landslip in the sidings, and we are shut in.'

'But can we not get out?' he questioned.

'No, never again, unless help comes,' he hoarsely whispered, for his
brave heart stood still at the terrible danger they were in.

Indeed, no pen can express the terror that filled the hearts of these
brave and hardy men at the thought of being thus entombed in a living
grave; they quailed not when meeting death face to face, but shrank in
dread at the slowly advancing foe.

All but the boy!

The light from the flickering lamps the miners carried fell upon his
delicate features; but his eyes brightly gleamed, as, laying his hands
on the bowed head of his old friend, he softly said,--

'Master Morgan, let us not fear; our God is with us still!'

'Maybe He has forgotten us, Davie,' the man pitifully moaned, for even
his strong courage had broken down in face of this calamity.

'No, no,' soothed the boy. '"Yea,