between Edinburgh and Glasgow, for a distance of ten or twelve miles,
lay the Aberfoyle colliery, of which the engineer, James Starr,
had so long
directed the works. For ten years these mines had been
abandoned.
No new seams had been discovered, although the soundings had been
carried to a depth of fifteen hundred or even of two thousand feet,
and when James Starr had
retired, it was with the full conviction
that even the smallest vein had been completely exhausted.
Under these circumstances, it was plain that the discovery
of a new seam of coal would be an important event.
Could Simon Ford's
communicationrelate to a fact of this nature?
This question James Starr could not cease asking himself.
Was he called to make
conquest of another corner of these rich
treasure fields? Fain would he hope it was so.
The second letter had for an
instant checked his speculations on this
subject, but now he thought of that letter no longer. Besides, the son
of the old overman was there,
waiting at the appointed rendezvous.
The
anonymous letter was
therefore worth nothing.
The moment the engineer set foot on the
platform at the end
of his journey, the young man
advanced towards him.
"Are you Harry Ford?" asked the engineer quickly.
"Yes, Mr. Starr."
"I should not have known you, my lad. Of course in ten years
you have become a man!"
"I knew you directly, sir," replied the young miner, cap in hand.
"You have not changed. You look just as you did when you bade us
good-by in the Dochart pit. I haven't forgotten that day."
"Put on your cap, Harry," said the engineer. "It's pouring,
and
politeness needn't make you catch cold."
"Shall we take shelter
anywhere, Mr. Starr?" asked young Ford.
"No, Harry. The weather is settled. It will rain all day,
and I am in a hurry. Let us go on."
"I am at your orders," replied Harry.
"Tell me, Harry, is your father well?"
"Very well, Mr. Starr."
"And your mother?"
"She is well, too."
"Was it your father who wrote telling me to come to the Yarrow shaft?"
"No, it was I."
"Then did Simon Ford send me a second letter to
contradict the first?"
asked the engineer quickly.
"No, Mr. Starr," answered the young miner.
"Very well," said Starr, without
speaking of the
anonymous letter.
Then, continuing, "And can you tell me what you father wants with me?"
"Mr. Starr, my father wishes to tell you himself."
"But you know what it is?"
"I do, sir."
"Well, Harry, I will not ask you more. But let us get on, for I'm
anxious to see Simon Ford. By-the-bye, where does he live?"
"In the mine."
"What! In the Dochart pit?"
"Yes, Mr. Starr," replied Harry.
"Really! has your family never left the old mine since the cessation
of the works?"
"Not a day, Mr. Starr. You know my father. It is there he was born,
it is there he means to die!"
"I can understand that, Harry. I can understand that! His native mine!
He did not like to
abandon it! And are you happy there?"
"Yes, Mr. Starr," replied the young miner, "for we love one another,
and we have but few wants."
"Well, Harry," said the engineer, "lead the way."
And walking rapidly through the streets of Callander, in a few
minutes they had left the town behind them.
CHAPTER III THE DOCHART PIT
HARRY FORD was a fine, strapping fellow of five and twenty.
His grave looks, his
habituallypassive expression, had from
childhood been noticed among his comrades in the mine.
His regular features, his deep blue eyes, his curly hair,
rather
chestnut than fair, the natural grace of his person,
altogether made him a fine
specimen of a lowlander.
Accustomed from his earliest days to the work of the mine,