Les indes-noirs. English

  CHAPTER IV. THE FORD FAMILY

  TEN minutes afterwards, James Starr and Harry issued from the principalgallery. They were now standing in a glade, if we may use this wordto designate a vast and dark excavation. The place, however, was notentirely deprived of daylight. A few rays straggled in throughthe opening of a deserted shaft. It was by means of this pipe thatventilation was established in the Dochart pit. Owing to its lesserdensity, the warm air was drawn towards the Yarrow shaft. Both air andlight, therefore, penetrated in some measure into the glade.

  Here Simon Ford had lived with his family ten years, in a subterraneandwelling, hollowed out in the schistous mass, where formerly stood thepowerful engines which worked the mechanical traction of the Dochartpit.

  Such was the habitation, "his cottage," as he called it, in whichresided the old overman. As he had some means saved during a long lifeof toil, Ford could have afforded to live in the light of day, amongtrees, or in any town of the kingdom he chose, but he and his wife andson preferred remaining in the mine, where they were happy together,having the same opinions, ideas, and tastes. Yes, they were quite fondof their cottage, buried fifteen hundred feet below Scottish soil.Among other advantages, there was no fear that tax gatherers, or rentcollectors would ever come to trouble its inhabitants.

  At this period, Simon Ford, the former overman of the Dochart pit, borethe weight of sixty-five years well. Tall, robust, well-built, he wouldhave been regarded as one of the most conspicuous men in the districtwhich supplies so many fine fellows to the Highland regiments.

  Simon Ford was descended from an old mining family, and his ancestorshad worked the very first carboniferous seams opened in Scotland.Without discussing whether or not the Greeks and Romans made use ofcoal, whether the Chinese worked coal mines before the Christian era,whether the French word for coal (HOUILLE) is really derived from thefarrier Houillos, who lived in Belgium in the twelfth century, we mayaffirm that the beds in Great Britain were the first ever regularlyworked. So early as the eleventh century, William the Conqueror dividedthe produce of the Newcastle bed among his companions-in-arms. At theend of the thirteenth century, a license for the mining of "sea coal"was granted by Henry III. Lastly, towards the end of the same century,mention is made of the Scotch and Welsh beds.

  It was about this time that Simon Ford's ancestors penetrated into thebowels of Caledonian earth, and lived there ever after, from father toson. They were but plain miners. They labored like convicts at the workof extracting the precious combustible. It is even believed that thecoal miners, like the salt-makers of that period, were actual slaves.

  However that might have been, Simon Ford was proud of belonging to thisancient family of Scotch miners. He had worked diligently in the sameplace where his ancestors had wielded the pick, the crowbar, and themattock. At thirty he was overman of the Dochart pit, the most importantin the Aberfoyle colliery. He was devoted to his trade. During longyears he zealously performed his duty. His only grief had been toperceive the bed becoming impoverished, and to see the hour approachingwhen the seam would be exhausted.

  It was then he devoted himself to the search for new veins in all theAberfoyle pits, which communicated underground one with another. Hehad had the good luck to discover several during the last period ofthe working. His miner's instinct assisted him marvelously, and theengineer, James Starr, appreciated him highly. It might be said thathe divined the course of seams in the depths of the coal mine as ahydroscope reveals springs in the bowels of the earth. He was parexcellence the type of a miner whose whole existence is indissolublyconnected with that of his mine. He had lived there from his birth, andnow that the works were abandoned he wished to live there still. His sonHarry foraged for the subterranean housekeeping; as for himself, duringthose ten years he had not been ten times above ground.

  "Go up there! What is the good?" he would say, and refused to leave hisblack domain. The place was remarkably healthy, subject to an equabletemperature; the old overman endured neither the heat of summer northe cold of winter. His family enjoyed good health; what more could hedesire?

  But at heart he felt depressed. He missed the former animation,movement, and life in the well-worked pit. He was, however, supported byone fixed idea. "No, no! the mine is not exhausted!" he repeated.

  And that man would have given serious offense who could have venturedto express before Simon Ford any doubt that old Aberfoyle would one dayrevive! He had never given up the hope of discovering some new bed whichwould restore the mine to its past splendor. Yes, he would willingly,had it been necessary, have resumed the miner's pick, and with hisstill stout arms vigorously attacked the rock. He went through the darkgalleries, sometimes alone, sometimes with his son, examining, searchingfor signs of coal, only to return each day, wearied, but not in despair,to the cottage.

  Madge, Simon's faithful companion, his "gude-wife," to use the Scotchterm, was a tall, strong, comely woman. Madge had no wish to leave theDochart pit any more than had her husband. She shared all his hopes andregrets. She encouraged him, she urged him on, and talked to him ina way which cheered the heart of the old overman. "Aberfoyle is onlyasleep," she would say. "You are right about that, Simon. This is but arest, it is not death!"

  Madge, as well as the others, was perfectly satisfied to liveindependent of the outer world, and was the center of the happinessenjoyed by the little family in their dark cottage.

  The engineer was eagerly expected. Simon Ford was standing at his door,and as soon as Harry's lamp announced the arrival of his former viewerhe advanced to meet him.

  "Welcome, Mr. Starr!" he exclaimed, his voice echoing under the roofof schist. "Welcome to the old overman's cottage! Though it is buriedfifteen hundred feet under the earth, our house is not the lesshospitable."

  "And how are you, good Simon?" asked James Starr, grasping the handwhich his host held out to him.

  "Very well, Mr. Starr. How could I be otherwise here, sheltered fromthe inclemencies of the weather? Your ladies who go to Newhaven orPortobello in the summer time would do much better to pass a few monthsin the coal mine of Aberfoyle! They would run no risk here of catching aheavy cold, as they do in the damp streets of the old capital."

  "I'm not the man to contradict you, Simon," answered James Starr, gladto find the old man just as he used to be. "Indeed, I wonder why I donot change my home in the Canongate for a cottage near you."

  "And why not, Mr. Starr? I know one of your old miners who would betruly pleased to have only a partition wall between you and him."

  "And how is Madge?" asked the engineer.

  "The goodwife is in better health than I am, if that's possible,"replied Ford, "and it will be a pleasure to her to see you at her table.I think she will surpass herself to do you honor."

  "We shall see that, Simon, we shall see that!" said the engineer, towhom the announcement of a good breakfast could not be indifferent,after his long walk.

  "Are you hungry, Mr. Starr?"

  "Ravenously hungry. My journey has given me an appetite. I came throughhorrible weather."

  "Ah, it is raining up there," responded Simon Ford.

  "Yes, Simon, and the waters of the Forth are as rough as the sea."

  "Well, Mr. Starr, here it never rains. But I needn't describe to youall the advantages, which you know as well as myself. Here we are at thecottage. That is the chief thing, and I again say you are welcome, sir."

  Simon Ford, followed by Harry, ushered their guest into the dwelling.James Starr found himself in a large room lighted by numerous lamps, onehanging from the colored beams of the roof.

  "The soup is ready, wife," said Ford, "and it mustn't be kept waitingany more than Mr. Starr. He is as hungry as a miner, and he shallsee that our boy doesn't let us want for anything in the cottage!By-the-bye, Harry," added the old overman, turning to his son, "JackRyan came here to see you."

  "I know, father. We met him in the Yarrow shaft."

  "He's an honest and a merry fellow," said Ford; "but he seems to bequ
ite happy above ground. He hasn't the true miner's blood in his veins.Sit down, Mr. Starr, and have a good dinner, for we may not sup tilllate."

  As the engineer and his hosts were taking their places:

  "One moment, Simon," said James Starr. "Do you want me to eat with agood appetite?"

  "It will be doing us all possible honor, Mr. Starr," answered Ford.

  "Well, in order to eat heartily, I must not be at all anxious. Now Ihave two questions to put to you."

  "Go on, sir."

  "Your letter told me of a communication which was to be of aninteresting nature."

  "It is very interesting indeed."

  "To you?"

  "To you and to me, Mr. Starr. But I do not want to tell it you untilafter dinner, and on the very spot itself. Without that you would notbelieve me."

  "Simon," resumed the engineer, "look me straight in the face. Aninteresting communication? Yes. Good! I will not ask more," he added, asif he had read the reply in the old overman's eyes.

  "And the second question?" asked the latter.

  "Do you know, Simon, who the person is who can have written this?"answered the engineer, handing him the anonymous letter.

  Ford took the letter and read it attentively. Then giving it to his son,"Do you know the writing?" he asked.

  "No, father," replied Harry.

  "And had this letter the Aberfoyle postmark?" inquired Simon Ford.

  "Yes, like yours," replied James Starr.

  "What do you think of that, Harry?" said his father, his brow darkening.

  "I think, father," returned Harry, "that someone has had some interestin trying to prevent Mr. Starr from coming to the place where youinvited him."

  "But who," exclaimed the old miner, "who could have possibly guessedenough of my secret?" And Simon fell into a reverie, from which he wasaroused by his wife.

  "Let us begin, Mr. Starr," she said. "The soup is already getting cold.Don't think any more of that letter just now."

  On the old woman's invitation, each drew in his chair, James Starropposite to Madge--to do him honor--the father and son opposite to eachother. It was a good Scotch dinner. First they ate "hotchpotch," soupwith the meat swimming in capital broth. As old Simon said, his wifeknew no rival in the art of preparing hotchpotch. It was the same withthe "cockyleeky," a cock stewed with leeks, which merited high praise.The whole was washed down with excellent ale, obtained from the bestbrewery in Edinburgh.

  But the principal dish consisted of a "haggis," the national pudding,made of meat and barley meal. This remarkable dish, which inspired thepoet Burns with one of his best odes, shared the fate of all the goodthings in this world--it passed away like a dream.

  Madge received the sincere compliments of her guest. The dinnerended with cheese and oatcake, accompanied by a few small glasses of"usquebaugh," capital whisky, five and twenty years old--just Harry'sage. The repast lasted a good hour. James Starr and Simon Ford had notonly eaten much, but talked much too, chiefly of their past life in theold Aberfoyle mine.

  Harry had been rather silent. Twice he had left the table, and even thehouse. He evidently felt uneasy since the incident of the stone, andwished to examine the environs of the cottage. The anonymous letter hadnot contributed to reassure him.

  Whilst he was absent, the engineer observed to Ford and his wife,"That's a fine lad you have there, my friends."

  "Yes, Mr. Starr, he is a good and affectionate son," replied the oldoverman earnestly.

  "Is he happy with you in the cottage?"

  "He would not wish to leave us."

  "Don't you think of finding him a wife, some day?"

  "A wife for Harry," exclaimed Ford. "And who would it be? A girl from upyonder, who would love merry-makings and dancing, who would prefer herclan to our mine! Harry wouldn't do it!"

  "Simon," said Madge, "you would not forbid that Harry should take awife."

  "I would forbid nothing," returned the old miner, "but there's no hurryabout that. Who knows but we may find one for him--"

  Harry re-entered at that moment, and Simon Ford was silent.

  When Madge rose from the table, all followed her example, and seatedthemselves at the door of the cottage. "Well, Simon," said the engineer,"I am ready to hear you."

  "Mr. Starr," responded Ford, "I do not need your ears, but your legs.Are you quite rested?"

  "Quite rested and quite refreshed, Simon. I am ready to go with youwherever you like."

  "Harry," said Simon Ford, turning to his son, "light our safety lamps."

  "Are you going to take safety lamps!" exclaimed James Starr, inamazement, knowing that there was no fear of explosions of fire-damp ina pit quite empty of coal.

  "Yes, Mr. Starr, it will be prudent."

  "My good Simon, won't you propose next to put me in a miner's dress?"

  "Not just yet, sir, not just yet!" returned the old overman, hisdeep-set eyes gleaming strangely.

  Harry soon reappeared, carrying three safety lamps. He handed one ofthese to the engineer, the other to his father, and kept the thirdhanging from his left hand, whilst his right was armed with a longstick.

  "Forward!" said Simon Ford, taking up a strong pick, which was leaningagainst the wall of the cottage.

  "Forward!" echoed the engineer. "Good-by, Madge."

  "GOD speed you!" responded the good woman.

  "A good supper, wife, do you hear?" exclaimed Ford. "We shall be hungrywhen we come back, and will do it justice!"