The Black Tor: A Tale of the Reign of James the First by George Manville Fenn (classic romance novels .TXT) 📕

to be in fresh trouble through stopping so long. I believe it’s supper-time.”

“Yes, Master Mark,” replied the boy, “and so do I.”

They had still a long way to go, but once past the veil of stalactite, they began to enter the workings with the passages and chambers possessing fairly level floors, made for the convenience of transporting the ore to the mouth of the mine. The walking then became comparatively easy, but Mark’s weariness was on the increase, and there were moments when the faint glow of light which spread around Dummy, as he walked in front, grew misty and strange, playing fantastic tricks to the observer’s eye: now it seemed close to him; now it and the black silhouette it formed of the bearer’s body appeared to be far-off, and to die away in the distance, but only to return again with a sudden jerk, as Mark started and tried to step out more firmly.

At these moments, his own candle having burned out, Mark watched the shadow of his companion dancing about, now on the floor, now on the ceiling or on either side, looking grotesque and goblin-like for a few moments, and then dying out again and causing the lad to start, as he felt in a dreamy way that he was being left behind, though on recovering his fleeting senses it was only to find that Dummy was almost within touch.

This had been going on for some time, when Mark spoke:

“I say, don’t go right away and leave me, Dummy.”

“Who’s a-going to?” said the boy, looking round in surprise.

“I know you wouldn’t on purpose, but keep looking round. I can’t keep awake. My legs do, but all the rest goes to sleep, and I begin getting in a muddle.”

“Oh, we shall soon be out now,” said the boy laughing.

“Soon be out! I never knew the place was so big before. Keep looking back to see that I don’t drop down fast asleep.”

“I’d make you go first,” said Dummy, “but you don’t know the way.”

“No: keep on as you are, and make haste.”

“Can’t: must go steady, because of the candle.”

“Oh dear!” sighed Mark. “I am so sleepy, and it’s beginning to get down below my belt, to where my leg was hurt.”

“No, no, don’t you think that,” cried Dummy. “Let’s keep on talking.”

“Yes,” said Mark, jumping at the proposal. “Let’s keep talking—Who are you laughing at?”

“You, Master Mark. You are sleepy. ’Tarn’t far, now. Fresh air’ll soon rouse you.”

There was no reply, and as the boy glanced back he could see that his companion was beginning to reel about like a drunken man, and that his eyes had a peculiar dull, fixed look.

The next minute the lids drooped, and he walked on as if that which he had said was quite true—that all was fast asleep but the legs, which went on automatically, and supported their load.

“With a fal, lal-lal, lal-lalla, lalla, la!” yelled Dummy, not unmusically; and it had its effect, for Mark sprang at him, and caught him by the shoulder.

“What was that?” he cried excitedly.

“On’y me singing, Master Mark. Soon be out now.”

“That’s what you keep on saying,” cried the lad, pettishly. “I don’t believe we’re going right. You’ve taken a wrong turning by mistake. Here, I can’t go any farther, Dummy. I must lie down and go to sleep again. It’s horrible to keep on like this. I know I shall fall.”

“You do, and I’ll stick a pin in you,” said the boy roughly.

“What!”

“I’m not going to have you fall asleep again. Come, rouse up, Master Mark; I’m ashamed of you. For two pins I’d hit you over the head.”

“What!” cried Mark, in an access of passion; “why, you ugly big-headed mole, how dare you speak to me like that?”

“’Cause I like,” cried Dummy sharply. “Talking of going to deep, like a great gal. Yah! Gen’lemen aren’t no use. Never do have no legs.”

“You insolent dog!” roared Mark, leaping at him, and striking the boy twice heavily on the back, with the result that the one candle was jerked out of the stick he carried, to fly forward on to the floor, flicker for a moment or two, and then, before it could be seized, go out, and with it Mark’s bit of passion.

“Oh!” he cried, as he stood fast in the darkness.

“There, you’ve done it now,” cried Dummy, in mock tones of horror.

“Yes, be quick; get out the flint and steel.”

“What for?”

“To get a light.”

“For you to begin knocking me about again.”

“No, no, Dummy; I won’t touch you again. It was your fault: you made me so cross.”

“All right, Master Mark,” said the boy, with a good-humoured laugh. “I only did it o’ purpose to wake you up, and it has. I don’t mind what you did. Don’t feel sleepy now, do you?”

“No, no, I’m quite awake. The drowsy feeling has gone off. Come, light the candle.”

“Shan’t now,” replied Dummy. “We’re only a little way off now, and I can manage.”

“But are you sure?”

“Oh yes, I’m sure enough, Master Mark. Wait a minute.”

“Yes. What are you going to do?”

“Only unloose a few rings of this line we brought.”

“What for? If you play me any tricks now we’re in the dark, I’ll—”

“Who’s going to play any tricks?” grumbled the boy. “Men don’t play tricks. Here, kitch holt: now you can follow me, and feel me, if you keep the rope tight, and won’t go hitting yourself again the wall.”

Mark grasped the end of the rope handed to him, and they started forward in the intense blackness, the novelty and sense of shrinking soon passing off, and the lad feeling more and more confidence in his leader.

“Don’t feel a bit sleepy now, do you?” asked Dummy.

“Not in the least. I say, are you sure that you can go on without taking a wrong turning?”

“Oh yes, I’m right enough, Master Mark.”

“How far is it now?”

“On’y ’bout fifty fathom or so. We’re just getting to the rise.”

“Then we—no, you’re wrong. We can’t be. Why, if we were so near the mouth we should see daylight.”

“What! in the middle o’ the night? Not you.”

“What! You don’t think it’s so late as that?”

“Yes, I do. It’s past twelve o’clock, if it’s a minute.”

“Then we must have slept a very long time below there.”

“Hours upon hours,” said Dummy, chuckling.

“Hark! What’s that?” said Mark excitedly.

“Shouting,” said the boy, after listening. “My! they are making a row about it. They’re coming to fetch us, because we’ve been so long.”

The two lads were still making for the mouth of the mine, and were now ascending the rough steps, to pause by the stone shed inside the entrance, where tools, gunpowder for blasting, and several kinds of tackle were kept, in among the candles and torches.

“Here, Dummy,” cried Mark excitedly, as the noise outside and above them increased, “what does this mean? They’re fighting!”

“Fighting?” cried the boy excitedly.

“Yes, what can it mean?”

“Mean, Master Mark? I can tell you. It’s the Darleys come at last to take our place. Oh, why didn’t I kill young Ralph that night when I followed him home through the wood?”

“You did what?”

“Followed him. I wasn’t sure he’d been trying to kill you, or I would.”

“Come along, and don’t talk,” whispered Mark excitedly. “Ah! I have no sword.”

“Got a pick in your belt, and so have I.”

“You’ll stand by me, Dummy?”

“Won’t I, Master Mark! I want to get a hit at some of ’em. You won’t stop me, will you, to-night?”

“If they’ve come and attacked us, no. Hush, quiet! Let’s steal out first, and see.”

The night was very dark as they left the mouth of the mine, but after their late experience it seemed to both to be comparatively light, and with Mark now armed with the miner’s pick, which he felt would be a good substitute for a battle-axe, they hurried up the steps, with the noise above increasing, but seeming to be over on the other side of the little castle. A minute or two later they had reached the platform which led to their right over the narrow natural bridge, to the left, through the gateway into the first courtyard. This was empty, and they ran lightly across it, to find that the encounter was going on beyond the second gateway, which led into the little inner courtyard, surrounded by the dwelling-house portion of the castle. Both gateways were furnished with means of defence, the outer having an iron grille of heavy crossed bars, while the second had folding doors of massive oak, with a wicket for ordinary use in the lower part of one of the folds. But in spite of the enmity between the two families, little heed had of late been given to the defences. Sir Edward had considered that the outer gate at the end of the natural bridge was sufficient, as there was so little likelihood of an attack without warning; and, as far as Mark could make out, it seemed that under cover of the darkness the enemy had crossed the bridge and forced the gate under the little towers, when the rest would be easy for them. They had only had to pass through the first courtyard, and were now in the lesser or inner court, evidently trying to batter down the entrance door into the hall.

They must have begun their work before Sir Edward and his people were alarmed; but how long before it was impossible to tell. What met the eyes of the two lads now was an armed group trying to batter in the great door by means of a beam they had brought up into the yard, while others, armed with pikes, guarded their companions, upon whom missiles of all kinds were being dashed down from above, and thrusts were being made with other pikes from the windows which flanked or overhung the door.

“The Darleys,” whispered Dummy, as they peered together round the inner corner of the gateway dividing the two courts.

“In with it, boys!” roared a hoarse voice; and they dimly made out a heavy figure standing in the shelter of the wall.

“Captain Purlrose and his gang,” whispered back Mark huskily. “I wonder how many men my father has in there.”

“They were going over to Dexham for a holiday, all but them as was hurt,” whispered Dummy. “Come on and help, or the robbers’ll get in.”

A pang shot through Mark, and he grasped the handle of his pick firmly, ready for a dash, but the feeling that it would be utter madness kept him back. For he knew that even if he could strike down two of the attacking party, they must succumb to the others, and they would have done no good.

It was all plain enough. Purlrose must have gained the information that the mine people were away, and that Sir Edward would be almost without defenders, and, out of revenge for the previous night’s attack, have seized the opportunity for a reprisal.

“Why, Dummy,” he whispered, with his lips close to the other’s ear, “if they take the castle, they’ll keep it, and turn us out.”

“Yes, and grab the mine,” said the boy hoarsely. “Well, we mustn’t let ’em.”

Bang, bang, came the reports of a couple of arquebuses from one of the windows, but no harm was done, and the men answered with a derisive cheer and continued their battering of the door, which still resisted their efforts.

Another shot was fired, but still without effect, and Mark ground his teeth together as he felt the impotency of his father’s efforts now that the enemy had stolen in beyond the gates that would have been admirable for defence.

“Well, aren’t you going to do something, Master Mark?”

“What can I do, Dummy?” cried the lad, in despair. “We might shut these gates, and defend them.”

“Yes, so we could; but what’s the good?”

Just then there was a quick flash and a sharp roar close to the doorway, and in the bright light the lads saw the men drop the beam and run back; but no one was hurt,