CHAPTER III
_Coal_
Mortimer threw down his cap, and dropped into the easy chair which hehad come to look upon as his own special reservation. He rubbed hishands together in sign of high satisfaction.
"Smart woman," he exclaimed admiringly. "Excellent! Excellent! Didn't Itell you that you'd be able to manage it? Good! Good!"
"Yes," said Jeckie, almost indifferently. "I did it. I knew how to doit, you see, when I came to to think it over. And I did it there andthen, and paid the price--there's naught to do but the legal business,and that's only a matter of form. The land's mine, now." She movedacross the room to her safe, unlocked it, took out an envelope, drewMortimer's cheque from it, and quietly laid it at his elbow. "I shan'twant that, of course," she added.
Mortimer looked up at her in surprise.
"But--I was to find the money!" he said.
"I've found it," answered Jeckie. "I've bought the land--it's mine, andwhatever's underneath it is mine, too. So if there's nothing, there'snothing--and you'll lose nothing."
"Oh, well," said Mortimer, "as long as we've got it, it doesn't muchmatter who's bought it--we'll make that right later."
Jeckie gave him no reply. But in Mortimer's sorry acceptance of herannouncement she made a sudden discovery as to his character.Enthusiastic he no doubt was, and eager and full of ideas as tobusiness. But--he was easygoing, apt to let things slide; ready to takematters as settled when they were all unsettled. Jeckie herself, had shebeen Mortimer, and bearing in mind the conversation of the previousevening, would have insisted on a proper and definite understanding asto the ownership of the forty acres. She smiled grimly as she relockedthe door of her safe, and she said to herself when it came to a contestof brains she was one too many for this smart London fellow. The landwas hers, and the mineral beneath it--so she said nothing; there wasnothing to say.
"The thing is," said Mortimer, again rubbing his hands in high glee,"the thing is, now, to get to work. We must bore!"
"How's that set about?" asked Jeckie, who was now anxious to learn allshe could. "What's done, like?"
"Oh, you just get some men and the necessary apparatus," repliedMortimer nonchalantly. "I'll see to all that. And I'll get afriend of mine down from London--I'll take a room for him at the'Coach-and-Four'--a friend who's one of the cleverest experts of theday; he and I, between us, will jolly soon tell you what lies under thatland. Of course, I haven't the slightest doubt about it, but it'sbetter to have the opinion of two experts than one. My friend's name isFarebrother--he's well-known. He shall come down and watch the boringoperations with me. I'll get the men and the requisite machinery atonce, and we'll go to work as soon as you've got the legal businessthrough--we'd better keep it dark until then."
"All that'll cost money, of course," observed Jeckie.
"Oh, a few hundred'll go a long way in the preliminaries," answeredMortimer. "I'll wait until Farebrother comes along before I decide whichmethod I'll follow--the percussive or the rotatory. But I won't botheryou with technical details; what you'll be more interested in will beresults."
"This boring that you talk about, now?" said Jeckie. "It shows whatthere is underneath the surface?"
"To be sure!" assented Mortimer. "It's like this--you select your spot,and you put in (this is the rotary method) a cutting-tool which is asort of hollow cylinder, with saw-like teeth at its lower edge, or anedge of hard minerals--rough diamonds, sometimes--and it's driven in bysteam-power at two or three hundred revolutions a minute. As it'shollow, a solid core is formed in the cylinder--you raise the cylinderfrom time to time and examine the core, which comes up several feet inlength. And you know from the core what there is down there. See?"
"I understand," said Jeckie. "I thought it must be something of thatsort. Very well--I'll pay for all that. Get to work on it."
Mortimer again glanced at her in surprise. But she saw that there was nosuspicion in his eyes as to her object.
"You seem inclined to launch out!" he said, laughing. "You were disposedthe other way when I first mentioned this matter."
"It's my land," reiterated Jeckie. "So, to start with, anyway, I'll paythe expenses. As you said just now, we can make things right later. Mindyou, I'm going on what you've said! If you hadn't assured me, you, as aprofessional man, that there's coal under that land, I shouldn't ha'bought it, and if there isn't--well, I know what I shall say! But I'mwilling to pay the cost o' finding out. Only--I shall want to becertain!"
"If there isn't coal under your forty acres, may I never see coalagain!" asserted Mortimer. "I tell you there's any amount there!"
"Then it's all right--and when we know that it is there, for certain andsure, it'll be time to consider matters further," said Jeckie calmly."Go on with your boring and I'll pay. As you said, I say again--we canmake things right later."
Mortimer was too elated at the prospect of opening out a new andpossibly magnificent enterprise to ask Jeckie what her present ideaswere as to how things should be made right in the event of coal beingfound in sufficient quantity to warrant the making of a mine. He wentaway and plunged into business, and in a few days brought his friendFarebrother down to Savilestowe--a quiet, reserved man of cautiouswords, who impressed Jeckie much more than Mortimer had done. But,cautious and reserved as he was, Farebrother, dragged hither and thitherby Mortimer over the woods and meadows, uplands and lowlands, gave it ashis deliberate opinion that there were vast quantities of coal underSavilestowe, and that Jeckie's forty acres of land probably covered aparticularly rich bed.
"Get to work, then!" said Jeckie laconically. "I'll pay for themachinery, and I'll pay what men you want. Bring their wages bill to me,every Friday, and the money'll be there."
No one in Savilestowe, not even Steve Beckitt, nor any of the selectcompany of the bar-parlour of the "Coach-and-Four," knew what was afoot,nor what the machinery which presently arrived in the village, and washoused in a hastily constructed wooden shed in the centre of JeckieFarnish's forty acres, was intended for. But Ben Scholes, who had madeno secret of his sale of the long-owned property, was able to enlightenhis curious neighbours.
"Jecholiah Farnish," he said, in solemn conclave at the blacksmith'sshop, shared in by several of the village wiseacres, "bowt that theerland fr' me for a purpose. It's her aim, d'ye see, to turn them fortyacres into a fruit-orchard and a market-garden. But it's necessary,first of all and before owt else, to drain that theer land. I should ha'done it mysen if I'd iver hed t'brass to do it wi'. I dedn't--shoo has.And this here machinery 'at's arrived on t'scene it'll be for t'purposeo' drainin'--shoo's a very wealthy woman now, is Jecholiah, and shoo'sbahn to do t'job reight. Pumpin' and drainin' machinery--that's whatit'll be."
The general company, open-mouthed, took this as gospel--save one man, ajack-of-all-trades, who had travelled in his time. He shook his head andbetrayed all the marks and signs of scepticism.
"Well, I don't know, Mestur Scholes," he remarked. "But I see'd 'emtakkin' some o' that machinery offen t'traction wagons 'at it cam' on,and I'll swear my solemn 'davy 'at it's none intended for no pumpin' anddrainin'--nowt o' t'sort!"
"What is it intended for, then?" demanded Scholes. "Happen ye know? Yeallus reckon to know better nor anybody else, ye do!"
"Nah thee nivver mind!" retorted the sceptic. "Ye'll all on yer find outwhat it's for afore long. But ye mark my words--it's none fordrainin'--not it!"
Two or three weeks had gone by before the curiosity of the villagersreceived any appeasement. Whatever went on in the forty acres wasconducted in secrecy in the big wooden shed which the carpenters hadhastily run up. There, every day, Mr. Mallerbie Mortimer, his friend Mr.Farebrother, and a gang of workmen--foreigners, in the eyes of theSavilestowe folk--for whom Mortimer had taken lodgings in the village,conducted mysterious rites, unseen of any outsider. Once or twice theunduly inquisitive had endeavoured to enter the field, on one excuse oranother, only to find a jealous watchman at hand who barred allapproach. But the sceptic of the blacksmith's sho
p was a human ferretand one morning he leaned over the wall of Ben Scholes's yard andgrinned derisively at the late owner of Savilestowe Leys.
"Now, then, Mistur Scholes!" he said triumphantly. "What did I tell yerabout yon machinery 'at's been setten up i' that land 'at ye selled toJecholiah Farnish? Pumpin' and drainin'! I knew better! I seen a bit i'my time, Mistur Scholes, more nor most o' ye Savilestowers, and I knewthat wor no pumpin' and drainin' machinery. I would ha' tell'd yer att'time, when we wor talkin' at t'smithy, what it wor, but I worn't i't'mind to do so. Ye don't know what they're up to i' yon fields 'at usedto be yours!"
"What are they up to, then?" demanded Scholes. "I'll lay ye'll know!"
"I dew know!" answered the other, with arrogance. "An' ye'll know an'all, to yer sorrow, afore long. They're tryin' for coal! I hed it fro'one o' t'workmen last neet; I hed a pint or two, or it might be three,wi' him. An' he says 'at it's varry like 'at theer's hundreds o'thousands o' pounds' worth o' coal under that land. That's what JeckieFarnish wanted it for. Coal!"
Scholes, who was cleaning out the ginnel in front of his stable,straightened himself, staring intently at his informant. The informantnodded, laughed sneeringly, and went off. And Scholes, casting away hismanure fork with a gesture that indicated rising anger and hotindignation, went off, too, in his shirt sleeves, but in the oppositedirection. He made straight down the village to Jeckie Farnish's shop.
It was then nearly noon, and the shop was full of customers. Jeckie, whohad long since given up counter work, and now did nothing beyond generaland vigilant superintendence, was standing near the cashier's desk,talking to the vicar's wife. Scholes's somber eyes and aggressive looktold her what was afoot as soon as he crossed the threshold. Shecontinued talking, staring back at him, as if he were no more than oneof the posts which supported the ceiling. But Scholes was not to bedenied, and he strode up with a pointed finger--a finger pointingstraight at Jeckie's hard eyes.
"Now then!" he burst out in loud, angry tones which made the vicar'swife start, draw back and stare at him. "Now then, Jecholiah, I've acrow to pull wi' ye! Ye telled me an' my missis 'at ye wanted yon lando' mind for to mak' a fruit orchard and a market-garden on, and I let yehev it at a low price for that same reason. Ye're a liar! ye wanted itfor nowt o' t'sort! Ye were after what you knew then wor liggin' beneathit--coal! Ye've done me! Ye're a cheat as well as a liar! Ye've done meout o' what 'ud ha' made me a well-to-do man. Damn such-like!"
Jeckie turned, cool and collected, to the vicar's wife.
"I'll see what I can do about it," she said quietly, continuing theirconversation. "If I can put it in at a lower price, I will, though I'dalready cut it as fine as I could. But, of course if it's for themothers' meetings, I must do what I can." Then she turned again--thistime to the angry man in front of her. "Go away, Scholes!" she said. "Ican't have any disturbance here; go away at once!"
"Disturbance!" shouted Scholes. "I'll larn ye to talk about disturbance!Ye're no better nor a thief! Look ye here, all ye folk, high and low!"he went on, waving an arm at the astonished customers. "Do ye know whatthis here woman did? She finds out 'at there's coal under my land, and,wi'out sayin' a word to me about it, she persuades me to sell her t'landfor next to nowt! Is that fair doin's? Do ye think 'at I'd ha' selled ifI'd known what I wor sellin'? But she knew; and she's done me and mine.Ye're a thief, Jecholiah Farnish--same as what ye allus hev been--ye'resort 'at 'ud skin a stone if theer wer owt to be made at it! Damn allsuch-like, I say, and say ageean--and I'll see what t'lawyers hev to sayto t'job!"
"You'll hear what my lawyer has to say to you," retorted Jeckie, who,the vicar's wife having hurriedly left the shop, was now not particularabout letting her tongue loose. "You get out of my shop this instant,Scholes, or I'll have you taken out in a way you won't like. Here, you,boy, run across the street and tell the policeman to come here! What doyou mean, you fool, by coming and talking to me i' that way? Didn't Igive you t'brass for your land, cash down? And as to coal, I've no morenotion whether there's coal under it than you have; there may be andthere mayn't. But I'll tell you this--if there is, it's mine! And youget out o' my shop, sharp, or I'll hand you over to t'law here and now.I'll have none o' your sort tryin' to come it over me. Get out!"
Scholes looked Jeckie squarely in the face--and suddenly turned andobeyed her bidding. But he went up the street muttering, like a manpossessed, and the vicar's wife, who had stopped to speak to a group ofchildren, shrank from him as he passed, and went home to tell herhusband of what she had heard and seen, and to voice her convictionsthat the knowledge that he had been cheated had affected Scholes'sbrain.
"Do you think she could really do such a thing?" she asked halfincredulously. "If she did, it certainly looks--mean, at any rate."
"If you want my personal opinion," answered the vicar dryly, "I shouldsay that Jeckie Farnish is capable of any amount of sharp practice.Coal! Dear me! Now I wonder if that's really what she's after, and ifthere is coal? Because, of course, if there's coal under her landthere'll be coal under my glebe, and in that case--really, one's almostafraid to think of such a possibility. Coal! I wonder when we shall getto know?"
The whole village knew within another week; indeed, from the time ofScholes's indignant outburst at the shop, it was hopeless to conceal theoperations at the waste land. Throngs of villagers were at the hedgerowsides from morning till night, eager for news; there, too, might be seenthe squire and the vicar, and Stubley and Merritt, as inquisitive asthe rest. The men engaged in boring forgathered of evenings at the"Coach-and-Four," and, despite Mortimer's warnings and admonitions,talked, more or less freely, over their beer. And one day at noon therumour ran from one end to the other of the village street that coal hadbeen found, and that there would be a rich and productive yield; beforenight the rumour had become a certainty--the squire himself had it fromMortimer and his fellow-expert that beneath Jeckie Farnish's forty acresthere was what would probably turn out to be one of the best beds ofcoal in the country, and that it doubtless extended beneath the land ofthe other property owners.
The one person who showed no excitement, who refused to allow herself tobe bustled or flurried, was Jeckie herself. Within twenty-four hours shewas visited by the squire, the vicar, and Stubley--each wanted to knowwhat she was going to do, each had a proposal for coming in. The squirewanted to start a limited liability company for founding a colliery towork the district, with himself as the chairman; the vicar was anxiousabout royalties on the coal which no doubt lay beneath his glebe lands;Stubley came to warn Jeckie to make sure. Jeckie listened to each andsaid nothing; it was impossible to get a word out of her that gave anyindication of what she had in her mind. The only persons with whom sheheld conversation at that time were Mortimer and his friend Farebrother;with them she was closeted in secret every evening; Farnish, told off toact as watch-dog, had strict orders that no other callers were to beadmitted. The result of the conference was that within a fortnightJeckie had acquired a vast mass of useful information, which shecarefully memorised. And, as Mortimer remarked, at the end of one ofthese talks, there was now nothing to do but to arrange the financialmatters for beginning work. Money--capital--that was all that was needednow. To that remark Jeckie made no answer--she already had her own ideasabout the matter, and she was resolved to keep them carefully toherself.