That settled the business, except a general shaking of hands, for we were all delighted, little thinking, in our innocence, of the troubles, the perils, and the dangers through which we should have to go.
CHAPTER TWO.
A FIERY PLACE.
No time was lost. The agreements were signed, and Uncle d.i.c.k packed up his traps, as he called them, that is to say, his books, clothes, and models and contrivances, so as to go down at once, take possession of the works, and get apartments for us.
I should have liked to go with him, but I had to stay for another week, and then, after a hearty farewell, we others started, my father, mother, and sister seeing us off by rail; and until I saw the trees, hedges, and houses seeming to fly by me I could hardly believe that we were really on our way.
Of course I felt a little low-spirited at leaving home, and I was a little angry with myself for seeming to be so glad to get away from those who had been so patient and kind, but I soon found myself arguing that it would have been just the same if I had left home only to go to some business place in London. Still I was looking very gloomy when Uncle Jack clapped me on the shoulder, and asked me if I didn"t feel like beginning to be a man.
"No," I said sadly, as I looked out of the window at the flying landscape, so that he should not see my face. "I feel more as if I was beginning to be a great girl."
"Nonsense!" said Uncle Bob; "you"re going to be a man now, and help us."
"Am I?" said I sadly.
"To be sure you are. There, put that gloomy face in your pocket and learn geography."
They both chatted to me, and I felt a little better, but anything but cheerful, for it was my first time of leaving home. I looked at the landscape, and the towns and churches we pa.s.sed, but nothing seemed to interest me till, well on in my journey, I saw a sort of wooden tower close to the line, with a wheel standing half out of the top. There was an engine-house close by--there was no doubt about it, for I could see the puffs of white steam at the top, and a chimney. There was a great mound of black slate and rubbish by the end; but even though the railway had a siding close up to it, and a number of trucks were standing waiting, I did not realise what the place was till Uncle Jack said:
"First time you"ve seen a coal-pit, eh?"
"Is that a coal-pit?" I said, looking at the place more eagerly.
"Those are the works. Of course you can"t see the shaft, because that"s only like a big square well."
"But I thought it would be a much more interesting place," I said.
"Interesting enough down below; but of course there is nothing to see at the top but the engine, cage, and mouth of the shaft."
That brightened me up at once. There was something to think about in connection with a coal-mine--the great deep shaft, the cage going up and down, the miners with their safety-lamps and picks. I saw it all in imagination as we dashed by another and another mine. Then I began to think about the accidents of which I had read; when men unfastened their wire-gauze lamps, so that they might do that which was forbidden in a mine, smoke their pipes. The match struck or the opened lamp set fire to the gas, when there was an awful explosion, and after that the terrible dangers of the after-damp, that fearful foul air which no man could breathe for long and live.
There were hundreds of thoughts like this to take my attention as we raced on by the fast train till, to my surprise, I found that it was getting dark, and the day had pa.s.sed.
"Here we are close to it," said Uncle Jack; "look, my lad."
I gazed out of the window on our right as the train glided on, to see the glare as of a city on fire: the glow of a dull red flickered and danced upon the dense clouds that overhung the place. Tall chimneys stood up like black stakes or posts set up in the reflection of open furnace doors. Here a keen bright light went straight up through the smoke with the edges exactly defined--here it was a sharp glare, there a dull red glow, and everywhere there seemed to be fire and reflection, and red or golden smoke mingled with a dull throbbing booming sound, which, faintly heard at first, grew louder and louder as the train slackened speed, and the pant and pulsation of the engine ceased.
"Isn"t something dreadful the matter?" I said, as I gazed excitedly from the window.
"Matter!" said Uncle Jack laughing.
"Yes, isn"t the place on fire? Look! Look! There there!"
I pointed to a fierce glare that seemed to reach up into the sky, cutting the dense cloud like millions of golden arrows shot from some mighty engine all at once.
"Yes, I see, old fellow," said Uncle Jack. "They have just tapped a furnace, and the molten metal is running into the moulds, that"s all."
"But the whole town looks as if it were in a blaze," I said nervously.
"So did our works sometimes, didn"t they? Well, here we are in a town where there are hundreds upon hundreds of works ten times as big as ours. Nearly everybody is either forging, or casting, or grinding. The place is full of steam-engines, while the quant.i.ty of coal that is burnt here every day must be prodigious. Aha! Here"s Uncle d.i.c.k."
He had caught sight of us before we saw him, and threw open the carriage-door ready to half haul us out, as he shook hands as if we had not met for months.
"That"s right," he cried. "I _am_ glad you"ve come. I"ve a cab waiting. Here, porter, lay hold of this baggage. Well, Cob, what do you think of Arrowfield?"
"Looks horrible," I said in the disappointed tones of one who is tired and hungry.
"Yes, outside," said Uncle d.i.c.k; "but wait till you see the inside."
Uncle d.i.c.k was soon standing in what he called the inside of Arrowfield--that is to say the inside of the comfortable furnished lodgings he had taken right up a hill, where, over a cosy tea-table with hot country cakes and the juiciest of hot mutton chops, I soon forgot the wearisome nature of our journey, and the dismal look of the town.
"Eat away, my boys," cried Uncle d.i.c.k. "Yeat, as they call it here.
The place is all right; everything ready for work, and we"ll set to with stout hearts, and make up for lost time."
"When do we begin, uncle--to-morrow?"
"No, no: not till next Monday morning. To-morrow we"ll have a look over the works, and then we"ll idle a bit--have a few runs into the country round, and see what it"s like."
"Black dismal place," I said dolefully.
"Says he"s tired out and wants to go to bed," said Uncle Jack, giving his eye a peculiar c.o.c.k at his brothers.
"I didn"t," I cried.
"Not in words, my fine fellow, but you looked it."
"Then I won"t look so again," I cried. "I say, don"t talk to me as if I were a little boy to be sent to bed."
"Well, you"re not a man yet, Cob. Is he, boys?"
Uncle d.i.c.k was in high spirits, and he took up a candle and held it close to my cheek.
"What"s the matter?" I said. "Is it black? I shouldn"t wonder."
"Not a bit, Cob," he said seriously. "You can"t even see a bit of the finest down growing."
"Oh, I say," I cried, "it"s too bad! I don"t pretend to be a man at sixteen; but now I"ve come down here to help you in the new works, you oughtn"t to treat me as if I were a little boy."
"Avast joking!" said Uncle d.i.c.k quietly, for the comely landlady came in to clear away the tea-things, and she had just finished when there was a double knock at the front door.
We heard it opened, and a deep voice speaking, and directly after the landlady came in with a card.
"Mr Tomplin, gentlemen," she said. "He"s at the door, and I was to say that if it was inconvenient for you to see him to-night, perhaps you would call at his office when you were down the town."