David's Little Lad

up?"

  "No, Miss Morgan, not with the night shift. The Squire and Miles arestill down in the mine."

  "And all the men have gone down as usual this morning?" I asked.

  "Oh! yes, and father with them."

  "Then there cannot be danger?"

  "Well, I don't know--I'm that timmersome, it may seem so to me; or itmay be h'all Miles's fancy, but he's rare and knowing, Miles is."

  "Well, dear Nan, please sit down quietly and tell me the whole storyfrom beginning to end, what you know and what you fear."

  Nan had by this time wiped away all traces of her tears; she was givento sudden bursts of grief, out of which her dark eyes used to flash asbright as though the briny drops were unknown to them. Had I met Nanapart from personal tragedy, I might have considered her tiny form, herpiquant old-fashioned face, and quaint words, an interesting study; butnow I felt a little impatient over her long delays, and deep-drawnsighs, and anxious to launch her midway into her tale.

  "Miles is very knowing," began Nan, seeing I was determined, and wouldhave my way; "Miles is very knowing, and from the time he was a little,little lad, he'd study father's plan o' the mine. I never could makeout the meanin' o' it, but long before Miles ever went down into a minehe knew all about levels, and drifts, and headings, and places withoutnumber; and he used to say to me, `Why, our mine is like a town, Nan, ithas its main roads, and its crossings, and its railways, and all;' hetried to make a romance out of the mine for me, seeing I was sotimmersome, and he never spoke of danger, nor fall o' roofs, nor gas,nor nothing, when I was by; only when they thought I was asleep, I usedto hear him and father talk and talk; and somehow, Miss Morgan, thehearing of 'em whispering, whispering of danger, made the danger, justas you say, twice as big to me, and I used to be that frightened Ifeared I'd die just from sheer old h'age. And at last I spoke to theLord about it, and it seemed to me the Lord made answer loud and clear,`Resist the devil and he will flee from you;' and then I saw plain asdaylight, that the devil to me now, was the fear of danger to father andMiles, and the only thing to do was to turn and face it like a man, ormay be a woman, which sometimes is bravest. So I went to Miles and toldhim how I had prayed, and what the Lord had said, and I begged of Milesto tell me h'all about everything, all the danger of fire-damp, andexplosions, and inundations. Oh! Miss Morgan, he did what I axed him,he seemed real pleased; and for a fortnight I scarce slept a wink, butthen I got better, and I found the devil, now I was facing him, braveand manful, did not seem so big. Then I went to Miles again, and I madehim promise not never to hide when he thought danger was going to be inthe mine, and he was real glad, and said he would faithful tell meh'every thing. Well, Miss Morgan, he was very sharp and had his witsabout him, and he heard people talk, and for all Mr Morgan was sopleasant, and so well liked, father said that he was so rare and anxiousto win the coal, that sometimes, though he had reformed so much in themine, he was a bit rash, and then the men grumbled about the coalpillars being struck away so much, and the supports not being thickenough."

  "But I spoke to Owen about that," I interrupted eagerly, "and he was sodreadfully hurt and vexed; he would not endanger the men's lives for theworld, Nan; and he said that he was an engineer and must understand agreat deal more about the mine than the miners. After all, Nan," Icontinued rather haughtily, and with feelings new and yet old stirringin my heart for Owen, "your little brother _cannot_ know, and withoutmeaning it, he probably exaggerates the danger."

  "That may be so, Miss Morgan, but in the case of the coal supports itwas the talk of all the men."

  "I know," I continued, "I have heard that miners were never contentedyet with any manager; they were sure, _whatever_ the manager did, tofind fault with him."

  "You wrong us there, Miss, you wrong us most bitter; there is not a manbelonging to Ffynon mine who does not love Mr Morgan; there is not aman who does not feel for his trouble. Why, the way he looked yesterdaywhen he saw the little baby, has been the talk of the place; and lastnight a lot of our men prayed for him most earnest. We all knows thatit was want of thought with Mr Morgan, we all loves him."

  "Dear Nan, forgive me for speaking so hastily, and do go on."

  "Well, Miss Morgan, Miles, he always says that he must learn, if helives, to be an engineer, he's so fond of anything belonging to it.What 'ud you say, Miss, but he drawed h'out a plan of the mine forhimself, and when it was finished he showed it to me and father; itworn't exactly like father's old plan, but father said in some ways itmight be more right. Well, Miss, Miles, haven't much to do in the mine,he's what they calls a trapper--that is, he has to shut and open thedoors to let the trams of coal pass, so he has to stand in the dark, andplenty of time for thought has he. Well, Miss, about a month ago, MrMorgan was down in the mine, and he said they was letting a fine seam ofcoal lie idle, and he said it should be cut, and it stretched away inanother direction. Well, Miles, he had to act trapper at some doorsclose to the new seam, and it came into his head, with his knowledge ofthe mine, and his own plan, that they must be working away right in thedirection of Pride's Pit, which you know, Miss, is full of water. Mileshad this thought in his head for some days, and at last he told me, andat last he told father, and father said, being vexed a bit, `Don't fancyyou have a wiser head on your shoulders than your elders, my boy; we arelikely enough working in the direction of Pride's Pit, but what of that,'tis an uncommon rich vein of coal; and, never fear, we'll stop short atthe right side of the wall.' Well, Miss, Miles tried to stop his fearsbut he couldn't, happen what would, he couldn't, and he said to me,`Why, Nan, the men are all so pleased with the new find of coal, thatthey'll just stop short at nothing, and the manager is beside himselfwith delight, and they'll work on, Nan, until they gets to the water;why, sometimes standing there, I almost fancies I _hears_ it,' and atlast, two nights ago, he said to me, `Nan, my mind is made up, I'llspeak to Mr Morgan.' Then, Miss, you know what happened, and how allday long Mr Morgan never came back, and Miles, he wandered about justlike a ghost, more fretted about the mine than he was about the dearlittle baby, so that I was fain to think him heartless: then at last,the Squire came, and he _would_ tell him everything, and the Squiresaid, `I'll go down with you at once, Miles; I'll see what I can formyself, and question every man in the mine, and if there appears to bethe slightest truth in what you fear, all the workings shall be stoppeduntil my brother returns.'"

  A long pause from Nan, then in a low sweet voice, "Late last night Milescame in, and put his arms round my neck and said, `Nan, darling, theSquire and me, we're going down; we'll put it all right, please God.Don't you be down-hearted, Nan; _whatever_ happens. Jesus loves us, andnow that I've got the Squire with me, I feels bold as a lion, for I_know_ I'm right, there _is_ danger.'" Another pause, then facing roundand looking me full in the face. "There, Miss, that's the whole story."

  "But, Nan, Nan, suppose the water does burst in?"

  "Why, then, Miss, every one in the mine will be drowned, or--or starvedto death."

  "And it _may_ come in at any moment?"

  "I doesn't know, I means to keep h'up heart, don't let you and mefrighten one another, Miss Morgan."

  CHAPTER TWENTY.

  THE JORDAN RIVER.

  Can I ever forget that day? It seemed the worst of all the ten. Yes, Ithink it was quite the worst. Before the last of those ten days came, Ihad grown accustomed to suffering; the burden given me to carry began tofit on my young shoulders. I lay down with it, and arose with it; underits weight I grew old in heart and spirit, as old as Nan. Laughter wasfar from my lips, or smiles from my eyes.

  But why do I speak of myself? Why do I say, I, I? I was one of manysuffering women at Ffynon?

  Let me talk of it as _our_ sorrow!

  What a leveller trouble is! There was mother, laying her proud head onlittle Nan's neck; there was the under-viewer's wife taking me in herarms, and bidding me sob a few tears, what tears I could shed, on herbosom.

  Yes, in the next ten days the women of Ffynon had
a common sorrow. I donot speak here of the men, the men acted nobly, but I think the womenwho stood still and endured, had the hardest part to play.

  "Heroic males the country bears, But daughters give up more than sons; Flags wave, drums beat, and unawares You flash your souls out with the guns, And take your heaven at once.

  "But we; we empty heart and home. Of life's life, love! we bear to think You're gone, to feel you may not come. To hear the door-latch stir and clink, Yet no more you--nor sink."

  But I must tell my story. I left little Nan, I went