The Black Tor: A Tale of the Reign of James the FirstFenn, George Manville
History
The Black Tor: A Tale of the Reign of James the First
Fenn, George Manville
Great Britain -- History -- James I, 1603-1625 -- Juvenile fiction
No embargo was placed upon their way of marching, and they tramped
eagerly on, till the occupants of the Castle were startled by their
sudden arrival, to share in the surprise of their fellows when orders
were given for rations to be supplied to each man, after a good meal had
been eaten.
Half-an-hour after, well provided with picks, hammers, big nails for
driving in the cracks, either for foot-hold or to bear ropes, the whole
party were descending into the mine, with Dummy promoted, from his
knowledge, to the onerous post of guide, leading, and Mark by his side
or following next, according to the state of the way.
The men were in excellent spirits, for by this time the object of the
expedition had oozed out, and it gave them a feeling of confidence now
that the attack was to be made through the mine, where they were all
much at home.
There was the rumour, too, that they were to take the enemy by surprise
where there would be no barricades or breastworks, and altogether the
men moved on after their young guides in the highest of spirits, feeling
as they did that at last the petty war was to be brought to a
conclusion.
The ways through the old galleries and chambers of the mine were
traversed with the men talking and laughing, and reminding one another
of this or that particular working where the lead ore was rich; and
Dummy strode in front, bearing his lantern well, and his importance ill.
For he was to all intents and purposes the originator and head man of
the little campaign, till suddenly casting his eyes sidewise he caught
sight of Mark looking at him in an amused way, which discharged all his
conceit upon the instant, as he flushed up and changed back to the old
Dummy at once.
"You shouldn't laugh at a poor fellow, Master Mark," he remonstrated in
a whisper.
"Then you shouldn't strut along like a game-cock just come in for his
spring feathers."
"I didn't," said Dummy angrily.
"You did. But go on. I will not laugh at you any more."
A complete change came over the boy, and he went on gravely enough after
the reproof, till, to the surprise of all, they were led into the
chamber hung with the veils of stalactite, where Dummy stopped and
looked round.
"Well, my lad, what does this mean?"
Dummy smiled in a rather imbecile way, and his father nudged him heavily
with his elbow.
"Don't you hear what Sir Edward says? What you come here for? Lost
your way?"
"No, I aren't lost my way, father."
"Then go back and show us. Where is it? Down by the old workings?"
"Nay, this is right," said the boy, in high glee at his father's puzzled
look; and giving Sir Edward a wave of the hand, he went on to the end,
and passed behind the stony veil dropping from near the roof.
Sir Edward, uttered an ejaculation, and turned to his son.
"You have been by here, then?" he cried.
"Yes, father; this is the way," replied Mark. "Follow him."
"No, keep with him yourself," said Sir Edward. "You are the guides.
But be silent now."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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