CHAPTER X
_Black Depths_
The cottage to which Jeckie had removed her father and herself, and suchhousehold belongings as were absolutely necessary to their simplestandard of comfort, faced due east; consequently, when the sun roseabove the fringe of woods that morning its beams shone direct into thelittle living-room. And they fell full on Jeckie, who sat bolt uprightat the table, her hands stretched out and tightly clasped on itssurface, her eyes staring straight in front of her, her lips white andset. So she had sat for hours--motionless, silent. The tall clock in thecorner had ticked away its record of minutes; the darkness had gone; thegrey light had stolen in; there had come a glow in the skies and agradual lighting of the window; finally, the sun had shown a ruddy,round face above the tapering pines and firs on the hilltop behind theLeys, and in the meadows and orchards the blackbirds and thrushes hadbegun to pipe and trill. But the breaking of a new day had caused nochange in Jeckie Farnish's attitude. It was, said Farnish, talking of itafter to his cronies, as if she had been turned into stone.
"Theer wor niver a word out on her, poor lass, after I'd telled her whatI'd gathered up at t'church porch," said he. "When she heeard 'at yonBen Scholes had paid fellers three hundred pound to blow up t'pit shecollapsed, as they call it, into t'chair and ligged her hand on t'table,and theer she sat, starin' and starin', hour after hour, till I wor fairafraid! I leeted t'lamp, and made t'fire, and brewed a pot a' tea, but Icouldn't get her to put her lips to it. Wheer I laid t'cup at her sideat four o'clock, theer it wor at seven--untasted. And not one word didshe spake, all that time--nobbut sat and stared and stared i' front onher, as if she'd see summat. An happen she did see summat--how can Isay?"
But Jeckie moved at last. As Farnish, well-nigh beyond his wits withfear and anxiety, stood by the hearth, watching her, a hurried stepsounded on the flagged path outside the cottage, and Robinson, themanager, came hastening in, grimy and dishevelled. She stirred then; butit was only the stirrings of a burning eye and a dry lip.
"Well?" she said, in such a faint whisper that both men started andlooked anxiously at her. "Well? Speak!"
Robinson threw out both hands with a gesture of despair. "It's worsethan I thought!" he answered, huskily. "No use pretending it isn't; it'sfar worse. We've made as thorough an examination as we could, and it'sterrible to see what damage has been done. Work of all this time--many along month!--all destroyed, in both shafts. They're blocked withwreckage! Brickwork, ironwork, everything's been blown out in both. Thedowncast's the worst. And--and that's not all!"
"What is all?" asked Jeckie. "Say it! I want to know."
Robinson glanced at Farnish, and Jeckie was quick to interpret the look.She turned on her father as if he had been a house dog.
"Go out!" she commanded. "Outside!--and shut the door. Now then," shedemanded as Farnish hurried into the garden and pulled the door tightafter him. "Say it straight out! What is--all?"
Robinson dropped into a chair and for a moment rested his head on hishands; when he raised it again his face was as white as Jeckie's.
"I've been down that down-cast shaft, through the wreckage, as far as Icould--Hargreaves and I went down, an hour since," he replied. "Younever saw such a sight!--those fellows must have used some explosivethat's more powerful than anything we've ever used for ordinaryblasting. Those heavy cast-iron plates that we used for that stretch oftubbing, now--twisted and curled as if they'd been sheets ofpaper--ribs, brackets, flanges--I couldn't have believed that suchthings could have been, well, just made into ribbons, as if they'd beenno more than putty. The timbering and the masonry, of course, are justso much splinters and dust, but the ironwork--well, it beats me how it'shappened! Still, in time, all that could be put right--there'd be longdelay, to be sure, and awful expense--all would have to be done overagain--it's like starting all over again, but----"
He paused, shook his head, shivered a little as if at somerecollection, and for a moment seemed as if he had lost the thread ofhis story.
"Get on to what there is of the rest of it!" commanded Jeckie. "There'smore!"
Robinson started; the last word appeared to spur him up.
"More!" he exclaimed, almost emphatically. "More? Yes more!--lots more.The worst of it! My God!"
"Will you get it out?" said Jeckie, in a low voice that betrayed herconcentrated anxiety. "Say it, man. I want to know."
Robinson made an effort, and pulled himself together. He gave Jeckie aqueer, sidelong glance.
"I went down, through the wreckage, as far as I could," he said."And--there's been more than the mere blowing up of timber and masonry,and iron fittings. We heard it, down there; heard it unmistakably--meand Hargreaves. I heard it; he heard it. Oh, yes; there's no doubt ofit. The explosion must have blown out a tremendous lot of wall surfacestuff in the lowest workings they'd got to, where they hadn't startedany masonry or tubbing, you understand. Because--we heard! No mistakingit! Once--just once--I've heard it before. Never to be forgotten,that--no!"
"For God's sake, man, speak plainly!" said Jeckie. "Heard--what!"
Robinson glanced fearfully around him as he bent nearer to her. He spokebut one word, in a tense whisper.
"Water!"
Jeckie started back, and her drawn face grew white to the lips. She,too, spoke the word he had spoken, in a lower whisper than his.
"Water!"
Robinson edged his chair near to the table and tapped the edge with aforefinger on which there was both grime and blood.
"I tell you we heard it--me and Hargreaves," he said. "I say--nomistaking it. This explosion, now--it must have blown a prettyconsiderable hole into the lowest part of the shaft, where they've beenat work this last week or two, and it's released--it may be a thin bedof quicksand that we didn't suspect, or water-logged sandstone or sand,or something of that sort, if you follow me, but there's thefact--water! It's running into the shaft at, I should say, the rate ofthousands of gallons a minute; we could hear it fairly roaring downthere. It's no use; it's there!"
"What'll happen?" asked Jeckie in a curiously hard voice.
"The shafts'll be flooded to the brim in twenty-four hours," answeredRobinson. "To the brim!'
"You said shafts!" exclaimed Jeckie.
"It's running into the up-cast, too," said Robinson. "We examined that.There must have been--must be--an extensive bed of quicksand lyingbetween both shafts. Anyhow, it's there. I tell you, they'll be floodedto the brim!"
Jeckie's mind went back to a certain conversation she had once had withRevis, of Heronshawe Main. He too, had met with an obstacle in water,and had surmounted it.
"But it can be pumped out?" she suggested.
"Aye!" assented Robinson. "But how long will it take as things are, andhow long after that to get matters put as straight as they were lastnight, and how much will it cost? It's no use denying it--all that we'vedone, all that we'd arrived at, is just--ruined!"
Jeckie suddenly got up from the table. She went across to the window,and pulling aside the half-curtain that veiled the lower panes, lookedout across the Leys. The surface works of the new pit were eitherlevelled with the ground or showing gaunt and ruinous against thesky-line; crowds of curious sightseers were grouped about them; aboveeverything, a sinister blot on the otherwise sun-filled sky, a cloud ofyellow smoke still hung, heavy and significant, as if loath to floataway from the scene of destruction. And as suddenly as she had risenfrom her seat so she turned on Robinson with a quick movement and with aflash of her old spirit. "But the coal's still there!" she exclaimed."The coal's still there--to be got!"
Robinson looked at her for a moment in silence. Of late she had takenhim into her confidence, pretty deeply, and she suddenly saw of what hewas thinking. Money!--always money! And she began to think, too, of themoney that had gone into the pit, and of how much more would be wantednow to recover what had so gone. It was as if one had lost a sovereigndown some grating in the street, and must needs pay another to get itback.
"I say the coal's still ther
e!" she repeated with fierce insistence. "Tobe got, do you hear? It's got to be got--that water'll have to be pumpedout, and everything put in order again, and do you think I'm going tolose all I've laid out?" she went on, suddenly beating her fist on thetable. "We must get to work at once!"
Robinson moved his head from side to side; something in the movementsuggested difficulty, perhaps hopelessness.
"It's for you to decide," he said, dully. "It'll cost--I don't know whatit won't cost. If you'd hear that water pouring in! And as things are,the shafts cumbered up with ruin; we can do nothing to stop it."
Jeckie snatched up her ulster, and began to put it on.
"Come on!" she said, turning to the door. "I'm going there myself."
Robinson sighed heavily as he pulled himself out of his chair andfollowed her into the sunlight. And he sighed again and shook his headas they set out across the Leys in the direction of the wrecked pit.
"There's naught to be done at present," he said, dejectedly. "It'll bedays before we know the full extent of the damage. And we shall have towait till we find out how high this water's going to rise--we don't knowyet what weight there is behind it, down there. We're all in the dark."
"Something's got to be done!" declared Jeckie. Badly shaken though shewas, a flash of her old indomitable spirit still woke to life at oddmoments. "We can't stand about doing nothing," she went on. "The coal'sthere, I tell you!"
There were plenty of people standing about, doing nothing, on the edgeof the scene of disaster, and among them Albert and Lucilla Grice.Lucilla was in tears, and Albert was in apparently heated argument withsome of the officials, who turned to Robinson as he and Jeckie drewnear.
"Mr. Grice is blaming us because he says there ought to have been awatch kept over these shafts," said one of them. "I've told him therewere watchmen."
"Then how comes it that somebody could get down there and place theseexplosives where they did," demanded Albert. "Don't tell me! There'sbeen no proper watch kept at all, or this couldn't ha' happened. And allmy wife's money invested in this!--and blown to pieces!"
He gave Jeckie a sidelong glance, as if laying the blame on hershoulders. He chanced to be in her way where he stood, and sheunceremoniously elbowed him aside.
"Your wife's money!" she snarled as she passed him. "What's her bit o'money compared to what I've put in? Come on, Robinson--I'm going downthat shaft as far as I can--to find out how things are."
"It's dangerous," said Robinson. "We risked a lot, me and Hargreaves."
"Where you've been I can go--and I'm going," declared Jeckie. "Comeon--we'll go together."
The others, standing round, watched Jeckie's descent into the tangledmass of iron, wood, masonry; she herself, following her manager, carednothing for danger, and was only intent on listening for the dread soundof which he had spoken. And, at last, when they had made their way agood two hundred feet into the shaft, penetrating through broken andtwisted plates and girders, Robinson paused and held up the lantern hewas carrying as a sign that they could go no farther.
"Listen!" he said in a whisper. "You'll hear!"
Jeckie steadied herself among the wreckage, looking down the darknessbeneath it. And suddenly, in the silence that hung all round them, sheheard, far below, in the gloomy depths which her imagination picturedthe steady, heavy rush of water. It was unmistakable--and once again shefelt sick in heart and brain, and weak of body.
"It's increased in volume since I was down," muttered Robinson as hestood at her side. "It's as I said before--the pit'll be flooded out.There's no help for it. It must be rising fast, that water."
He tore away a loose piece of iron from the wreckage close by, anddropped it through the twisted mass beneath their standing place. Thesound of its heavy splash came almost at once.
"You hear!" he exclaimed. "It's within thirty or forty feet of us now!It'll be up here before long; it'll rise to the brim. There's nothing tobe done, Miss Farnish--we'd best make our way up again."
When Jeckie climbed out of the last mass of wreckage at the mouth ofthe shaft, it was to find Revis standing close by, talking to the menwho hung about. He came up to her with a face full of grave concern.
"This is a bad job, my lass!" he said in low tones. "I'm as sorry foryou as I can be!" He turned from her to Robinson. "Water rising?" heasked.
"Aye, fast as it can!" answered Robinson. "There must have been atremendous lot released right down where they'd got to. And we wereclose on to the seam, too!"
"Rising in both shafts?" inquired Revis.
Robinson gave him a significant look.
"Both!" he answered.
Revis drew him aside; the others, watching them, heard the two mentalking technicalities; Jeckie caught chance terms and expressions hereand there--"water-laden bed"; "dangerous feeder"; "water-logged trias";"drainage tunnel"; "Poetsch's method"; "Gebhardt and Koenig's method";"Kind-Chaudron system"; "winding and pumping"--she understood little ornothing of it, and at that moment did not care to inquire; all that sherealised was that the work into which she had put so much energy, andwhereon she had laid out all her beloved money, was in danger of utterruin. She let Albert grumble and growl to the men, and Lucilla weepfretfully; she herself stood silent and motionless, watching Revis andthe manager.
Revis came to her at last, motioning Albert and Lucilla to join them.He looked graver than before.
"This is a very bad job!" he said in a low voice. "There seems to be nodoubt that this explosive, whatever it was--and it must have been ofextraordinary force--has tapped an exceptionally heavy lot of water. Themine'll be flooded--that is, these two shafts will. It's a good job youhadn't got the whole thing finished and opened out, for in that case, ifthis explosion had happened, you'd have had all the workings flooded,and there'd probably have been serious loss of life. As it is----"
Jeckie interrupted him--the question of what might have been had nointerest for her.
"Can't the water be pumped out?" she asked. "You had trouble yourselfthat way?"
"Aye, you can pump!" agreed Revis. "But--you don't know what amount ofwater there is yet. It looks to me, from what Robinson says, as if therewas a sort of subterranean lake down there. Pump, aye!--but ... a longand terrible job. And--now don't be frightened!--the thing is--will itbe worth it?"
"The coal's there!" exclaimed Jeckie, dogged and determined.
Revis looked from her to the Grices. Lucilla was grasping a tear-soakedhandkerchief and gazing at him in the last throes of despairing anxiety;Albert stood with his lips a little open, expectant of wisdom from theman of experience.
"Yes," said Revis, at last. "But--it's no use shirkingdifficulties--this may be a quicksand that forms a thick cover all overthe measures of whatever extent they may be. The fact is--you don't knowwhat's happened down there, nor where you are."
"The coal's there!" repeated Jeckie. "It's there, I say! We've got toget it."