"Tell me, Jack," said Harry, "what was taking you to our cottage to-day?"
"I wanted to see you, man," replied Jack, "and ask you to come

to the Irvine games. You know I am the piper of the place.
There will be dancing and singing."

"Thank you, Jack, but it's impossible."
"Impossible?"

"Yes; Mr. Starr's visit will last some time, and I must take
him back to Callander."

"Well, Harry, it won't be for a week yet. By that time Mr. Starr's
visit will be over, I should think, and there will be nothing to keep

you at the cottage."
"Indeed, Harry," said James Starr, "you must profit by your

friend Jack's invitation."
"Well, I accept it, Jack," said Harry. "In a week we will

meet at Irvine."
"In a week, that's settled," returned Ryan. "Good-by, Harry!

Your servant, Mr. Starr. I am very glad to have seen you again!
I can give news of you to all my friends. No one has

forgotten you, sir."
"And I have forgotten no one," said Starr.

"Thanks for all, sir," replied Jack.
"Good-by, Jack," said Harry, shaking his hand. And Jack Ryan,

singing as he went, soon disappeared in the heights of the shaft,
dimly lighted by his lamp.

A quarter of an hour afterwards James Starr and Harry descended
the last ladder, and set foot on the lowest floor of the pit.

From the bottom of the Yarrow shaft radiated numerous empty galleries.
They ran through the wall of schist and sandstone, some shored up

with great, roughly-hewn beams, others lined with a thick casing of wood.
In every direc-

tion embankments supplied the place of the excavated veins.
Artificial pillars were made of stone from neighboring quarries,

and now they supported the ground, that is to say, the double layer of
tertiary and quaternary soil, which formerly rested on the seam itself.

Darkness now filled the galleries, formerly lighted either by the miner's
lamp or by the electric light, the use of which had been introduced

in the mines.
"Will you not rest a while, Mr. Starr?" asked the young man.

"No, my lad," replied the engineer, "for I am anxious to be at
your father's cottage."

"Follow me then, Mr. Starr. I will guide you, and yet I daresay you
could find your way perfectly well through this dark labyrinth."

"Yes, indeed! I have the whole plan of the old pit still in my head."
Harry, followed by the engineer, and holding his lamp high

the better to light their way, walked along a high gallery,
like the nave of a cathedral. Their feet still struck against

the wooden sleepers which used to support the rails.
They had not gone more than fifty paces, when a huge stone

fell at the feet of James Starr. "Take care, Mr. Starr!"
cried Harry, seizing the engineer by the arm.

"A stone, Harry! Ah! these old vaultings are no longer quite secure,
of course, and--"

"Mr. Starr," said Harry Ford, "it seems to me that stone was thrown,
thrown as by the hand of man!"

"Thrown!" exclaimed James Starr. "What do you mean, lad?"
"Nothing, nothing, Mr. Starr," replied Harry evasively, his anxious

gaze endeavoring to pierce the darkness. "Let us go on.
Take my arm, sir, and don't be afraid of making a false step."

"Here I am, Harry." And they both advanced, whilst Harry looked
on every side, throwing the light of his lamp into all the corners

of the gallery.
"Shall we soon be there?" asked the engineer.

"In ten minutes at most."
"Good."

"But," muttered Harry, "that was a most singular thing.
It is the first time such an accident has happened to me.

That stone falling just at the moment we were passing."
"Harry, it was a mere chance."

"Chance," replied the young man, shaking his head. "Yes, chance."
He stopped and listened.

"What is the matter, Harry?" asked the engineer.
"I thought I heard someone walking behind us," replied the

young miner, listening more attentively. Then he added,
"No, I must have been mistaken. Lean harder on my arm,

Mr. Starr. Use me like a staff."
"A good solid staff, Harry," answered James Starr. "I could not wish

for a better than a fine fellow like you."
They continued in silence along the dark nave. Harry was

evidently preoccupied, and frequently turned, trying to catch,
either some distant noise, or remoteglimmer of light.

But behind and before, all was silence and darkness.
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 word to designate a vast and dark excavation.
The place, however, was not entirely deprived of daylight.

A few rays straggled in through the opening of a deserted shaft.
It was by means of this pipe that ventilation was established

in the Dochart pit. Owing to its lesserdensity, the warm
air was drawn towards the Yarrow shaft. Both air and light,

therefore, penetrated in some measure into the glade.
Here Simon Ford had lived with his family ten years,

in a subterranean dwelling, hollowed out in the schistous mass,
where formerly stood the powerful engines which worked

the mechanical traction of the Dochart pit.
Such was the habitation, "his cottage," as he called it, in which resided

the old overman. As he had some means saved during a long life of toil,
Ford could have afforded to live in the light of day, among trees,

or in any town of the kingdom he chose, but he and his wife and son
preferred remaining in the mine, where they were happy together,

having the same opinions, ideas, and tastes. Yes, they
were quite fond of their cottage, buried fifteen hundred feet

below Scottish soil. Among other advantages, there was no
fear that tax gatherers, or rent collectors would ever come

to trouble its inhabitants.
At this period, Simon Ford, the former overman of the Dochart pit,

bore the weight of sixty-five years well. Tall, robust,
well-built, he would have been regarded as one of the most

conspicuous men in the district which supplies so many fine
fellows to the Highland regiments.

Simon Ford was descended from an old mining family, and his
ancestors had worked the very first carboniferous seams opened

in Scotland. Without discussing whether or not the Greeks
and Romans made use of coal, whether the Chinese worked coal

mines before the Christian era, whether the French word for coal
(HOUILLE) is really derived from the farrier Houillos, who lived

in Belgium in the twelfth century, we may affirm that the beds
in Great Britain were the first ever regularly worked.

So early as the eleventh century, William the Conqueror divided
the produce of the Newcastle bed among his companions-in-arms.

At the end 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