Truly no, replied Oliver; I had a rencontrea sort of adventure with fishermen, which
Fishermen! exclaimed Mr Donnithorne in surprise; are ye sure they were not smugglerseh?
They said they were fishermen, and they looked like such, replied Oliver; but my adventure with them, whatever they were, was the cause of my detention, and I can only express my grief that the circumstance has incommoded your household, but, you see, it took some time to beat off the boats crew, and then I had to examine a wound and extract
What say you, boy! exclaimed Mr Donnithorne, frowning, beat off a boats crewexamine a wound! Why, Rose, Molly, come hither. Here we have a young gallant who hath begun life in the far west in good style; but hold, here comes my excellent friend Captain Dan, who is no friend to the smugglers; he is to sup with us to-night; so we will repress our curiosity till after supper. Let me introduce you, Oliver to my wife, your Aunt Molly, or, if you choose to be respectful, Aunt Mary.
As he spoke, a fat, fair, motherly-looking lady of about five-and-forty entered the room, greeting her husband with a rebuke, and her nephew with a smile.
Never mind him, Oliver, said the good lady; he is a vile old creature. I have heard all about your meeting with him this forenoon, and only wish I had been there to see it.
Listen to that now, Captain Dan, cried Mr Donnithorne, as the individual addressed entered the room; my wife calls meme, a staid, sober man of fifty-fivecalls me a vile old creature. Is it not too bad? really one gets no credit nowadays for devoting oneself entirely to ones better half; but I forget: allow me to introduce you to my nephew, Oliver Trembath, just come from one of the Northern Universities to fight the smugglers of St. Justof which more anon. Oliver, Captain Hoskin of Botallack, better known as Captain Dan. Now, sit down and lets have a bit of supper.
With hospitable urgency Mr Donnithorne and his good dame pressed their guests to do justice to the fare set before them, and, during the course of the meal, the former kept up a running fire of question, comment, and reply on every conceivable subject, so that his auditors required to do little more than eat and listen. After supper, however, and when tumblers and glasses were being put down, he gave the others an opportunity of leading the conversation.
Now, Oliver, he said, fill your glass and let us hear your adventures. What will you havebrandy, gin, or rum? My friend, Captain Dan here, is one of those remarkable men who dont drink anything stronger than ginger-beer. Of course you wont join him.
Thank you, said Oliver. If you will allow me, I will join your good lady in a glass of wine. Permit me, Aunt Mary, to fill
No, I thank you, Oliver, said Mrs Donnithorne good-humouredly but firmly, I side with Captain Dan; but Ill be glad to see you fill your own.
Ha! exclaimed Mr Donnithorne, Mollys sure to side with the opponent of her lawful lord, no matter who or what he be. Fill your own glass, boy, with what you likecold water, an it please youand let us drink the good old Cornish toast, Fish, tin, and copper, our three staples, Oliverthe bone, muscle, and fat of the county.
Fish, tin, and copper, echoed Captain Dan.
In good sooth, continued Mr Donnithorne, I have often thought of turning teetotaller myself, but feared to do so lest my wife should take to drinking, just out of opposition. However, let that passand now, Oliver, open thy mouth, lad, and relate those surprising adventures of which you have given me a hint.
Indeed, uncle, I do not say they are very surprising, although, doubtless, somewhat new to one who has been bred, if not born, in comparatively quiet regions of the earth.
Here Oliver related circumstantially to his wondering auditors the events which befell him after the time when he left his uncle in the lanebeing interrupted only with an occasional exclamationuntil he reached the part when he knocked down the man who had rescued him from the waves, when Mr Donnithorne interrupted him with an uncontrollable burst.
Ha! shouted the old gentleman; what! knocked down the man who saved your life, nephew? Fie, fie! But you have not told us his name yet. What was it?
His comrades called him Jim, as I have said; and I think that he once referred to himself as Jim Cuttance, or something like that.
What say you, boy? exclaimed Mr Donnithorne, pushing back his chair and gazing at his nephew in amazement. Hast fought side by side with Jim Cuttance, and then knocked him down?
Indeed I have, said Oliver, not quite sure whether his uncle regarded him as a hero or a fool.
The roar of laughter which his answer drew from Captain Dan and his uncle did not tend to enlighten him much.
Oh! Oliver, Oliver, said the old gentleman, on recovering some degree of composure, you should have lived in the days of good King Arthur, and been one of the Knights of the Round Table. Knocked down Jim Cuttance! What thinkee, Captain Dan?
I think, said the captain, still chuckling quietly, that the less our friend says about the matter the better for himself.
Why so? inquired Oliver quickly.
Because, replied his uncle, with some return of gravity, you have assisted one of the most notorious smugglers that ever lived, to fight his Majestys coastguardthats all. What say you, Mollyshall we convict Oliver on his own confession?
The good lady thus appealed to admitted that it was a serious matter, but urged that as Oliver did the thing in ignorance and out of gratitude, he ought to be forgiven.
I think he ought to be forgiven for having knocked down Jim Cuttance, said Captain Dan.
Is he then so notorious? asked Oliver.
Why, he is the most daring smuggler on the coast, replied Captain Dan, and has given the preventive men more trouble than all the others put together. In fact, he is a man who deserves to be hanged, and will probably come to his proper end ere long, if not shot in a brawl beforehand.
I fear he stands some chance of it now, said Mr Donnithorne, with a sigh, for he has been talking of erecting a battery near his den at Prussia Cove, and openly defying the Government men.
You seem to differ from Captain Dan, uncle, in reference to this man, said Oliver, with a smile.
Truly, I do, for although I condemn smuggling,ahem! (the old gentleman cast a peculiar glance at the captain), I dont like to see a sturdy man hanged or shotand Jim Cuttance is a stout fellow. I question much whether you could find his match, Captain Dan, amongst all your men?
That I could, easily, said the captain with a quiet smile.
Pardon me, captain, said Oliver, my uncle has not yet informed me on the point. May I ask what corps you belong to?
To a sturdy corps of tough lads, answered the captain, with another of his quiet smilesmen who have smelt powder, most of em, since they were little boyslive on the battlefield, I may say, almost night and dayspring more mines in a year than all the soldiers in the world put togetherand shorten their lives by the stern labour they undergo; but they burn powder to raise, not to waste, metal. Their uniform is red, too, though not quite so red, nor yet so elegant, as that of the men in his Majestys service. I am one of the underground captains, sir, of Botallack mine.
Captain Dans colour heightened a very little, and the tones of his voice became a little more powerful as he concluded this reply; but there was no other indication that the enthusiastic soul of one of the captains of the most celebrated mine in Cornwall was moved. Oliver felt, however, the contact with a kindred spirit, and, expressing much interest in the mines, proceeded to ask many questions of the captain, who, nothing loath, answered all his queries, and explained to him that he was one of the captains, or agents, whose duty it was to superintend the men and the works below the surfacehence the title of underground; while those who super-intended the works above ground were styled grass, or surface captains. He also made an appointment to conduct the young doctor underground, and go over the mine with him at an early date.
Captain Dans colour heightened a very little, and the tones of his voice became a little more powerful as he concluded this reply; but there was no other indication that the enthusiastic soul of one of the captains of the most celebrated mine in Cornwall was moved. Oliver felt, however, the contact with a kindred spirit, and, expressing much interest in the mines, proceeded to ask many questions of the captain, who, nothing loath, answered all his queries, and explained to him that he was one of the captains, or agents, whose duty it was to superintend the men and the works below the surfacehence the title of underground; while those who super-intended the works above ground were styled grass, or surface captains. He also made an appointment to conduct the young doctor underground, and go over the mine with him at an early date.
While the party in old Mr Donnithornes dwelling were thus enjoying themselves, a great storm was gathering, and two events, very different from each other in character, were taking placethe one quiet, and apparently unimportant, the other tremendous and fatalboth bearing on and seriously influencing the subjects of our tale.
Chapter Four.
At Work under the Sea
Chip, chip, chipdown in the dusky mine! Oh, but the rock at which the miner chipped was hard, and the bit of rock on which he sat was hard, and the muscles with which he toiled were hard from prolonged labour; and the lot of the man seemed hard, as he sat there in the hot, heavy atmosphere, hour after hour, from morn till eve, with the sweat pouring down his brow and over his naked shoulders, toiling and moiling with hammer and chisel.
But stout David Trevarrow did not think his lot peculiarly hard. His workshop was a low narrow tunnel deep down under the surface of the earthay, and deep under the bottom of the sea! His daily sun was a tallow candle, which rose regularly at seven in the morning and set at three in the afternoon. His atmosphere was sadly deficient in life-giving oxygen, and much vitiated by gunpowder smoke. His working costume consisted only of a pair of linen trousers; his colour from top to toe was red as brick-dust, owing to the iron ore around him; his food was a slice of bread, with, perchance, when he was unusually luxurious, the addition of a Cornish pasty; and his drink was water. To an inexperienced eye the mans work would have appeared not only hard but hopeless, for although his hammer was heavy, his arm strong, and his chisel sharp and tempered well, each blow produced an apparently insignificant effect on the flinty rock. Frequently a spark of fire was all that resulted from a blow, and seldom did more than a series of little chips fly off, although the man was of herculean mould, and worked with a will, as was evident from the kind of gasp or stern expulsion of the breath with which each blow was accompanied. Unaided human strength he knew could not achieve much in such a process, so he directed his energies chiefly to the boring of blast-holes, and left it to the mighty power of gunpowder to do the hard work of rending the rich ore from the bowels of the unwilling earth. Yes, the work was very hard, probably the hardest that human muscles are ever called on to perform in this toiling world; but again we say that David Trevarrow did not think so, for he had been born to the work and bred to it, and was blissfully ignorant of work of a lighter kind, so that, although his brows frowned at the obstinate rock, his compressed lips smiled, for his thoughts were pleasant and far away. The unfettered mind was above ground roaming in fields of light, basking in sunshine, and holding converse with the birds, as he sat there chip, chip, chipping, down in the dusky mine.
Stopping at last, the miner wiped his brow, and, rising, stood for a few moments silently regarding the result of his days work.
Now, David, said he to himself, the question is, what shall us doshall us keep on, or shall us knack?
He paused, as if unable to answer the question. After a time he muttered, Keep on; it dont look promisin, sure nuff, an its poor pay; but it wont do to give in yet.
Poor pay it was indeed, for the mans earnings during the past month had been barely ten shillings. But David Trevarrow had neither wife, child, nor mother to support, so he could afford to toil for poor pay, and, being of a remarkably hopeful and cheery disposition, he returned home that afternoon resolved to persevere in his unproductive toil, in the hope that at last he should discover a good bunch of copper, or a keenly lode of tin.
David was what his friends and the world styled unfortunate. In early manhood he had been a somewhat wild and reckless fellowa noted wrestler, and an adept in all manly sports and games. But a disappointment in love had taught him very bitterly that life is not all sunshine; and this, coupled with a physical injury which was the result of his own folly, crushed his spirit so much that his comrades believed him to be a lost man.
The injury referred to was the bursting of a blood-vessel in the lungs. It was, and still is, the custom of the youthful miners of Cornwall to test their strength by racing up the almost interminable ladders by which the mines are reached. This tremendous exertion after a day of severe toil affected them of course very severely, and in some cases seriously. Many an able-bodied man has by this means brought himself to a premature end. Among others, David Trevarrow excelled and suffered. No one could beat him in running up the ladders; but one day, on reaching the surface, blood issued from his mouth, and thenceforth his racing and wrestling days were ended, and his spirit was broken. A long illness succeeded. Then he began to mend. Slowly and by degrees his strength returned, but not his joyous spirit. Still it was some comfort to feel able for work again, and he went underground with some degree of his old vigour, though not with the light heart or light step of former days; but bad fortune seemed to follow him everywhere. When others among his comrades were fortunate in finding copper or tin, David was most unaccountably unsuccessful. Accidents, too, from falls and explosions, laid him up more than once, and he not only acquired the character of an unlucky man from his friends, but despite a naturally sanguine temperament, he began himself to believe that he was one of the unluckiest fellows in the world.
About this time the followers of that noble Christian, John Wesley, began to make an impression on Cornwall, and to exert an influence which created a mighty change in the hearts and manners of the people, and the blessed effects of which are abundantly evident at the present dayto the rejoicing of every Christian soul. One of those ministers of our Lord happened to meet with David Trevarrow, and was the means of opening his eyes to many great and previously unknown truths. Among others, he convinced him that Gods ways are not as mans ways; that He often, though not always, leads His people by thorny paths that they know not of, but does it in love and with His own glory in their happiness as the end in view; that the Lord Jesus Christ must be to a man the chiefest among ten thousand, and altogether lovely, else He is to him nothing at all, and that he could be convinced of all these truths only by the Holy Spirit.
It were vain to attempt to tell all that this good man said to the unhappy miner, but certain it is that from that time forth David became himself againand yet not himself. The desire to wrestle and fight and race returned in a new form. He began to wrestle with principalities and powers, to fight the good fight of faith, and to run the race set before him in the gospel. The old hearty smile and laugh and cheery disposition also returned, and the hopeful spirit, and so much of the old robust health and strength, that it seemed as if none of the evil effects of the ruptured blood-vessel remained. So David Trevarrow went, as of old, daily to the mine. It is true that riches did not flow in upon him any faster than before, but he did not mind that much, for he had discovered another mine, in which he toiled at nights after the days toil was over, and whence he extracted treasure of greater value than copper or tin, or even goldtreasure which he scattered in a Sabbath school with liberal hand, and found himself all the richer for his prodigality.