The Killer Mine

CHAPTER EIGHT Mad Manack

I don't know what I expected to come along that gallery. I stood there, clutching at the wet rock of the walls and my blood pounded in my ears. But for the darkness of the gallery behind me, I think I would have run. The light grew steadily brighter till the walls glistened and I could see the rotten stulls of the sloping thrust out like arms from the sloping rock. If it were human I knew it couldn't cross that gap. But I don't think I thought it was human. No man brought up on the old tinners' tales could possibly have thought that wild cry human.

At last the light itself appeared. It was attached to a miner's helmet and the miner himself came steadily on towards the slope. I thought of all the men who must have lost their lives down here. The mine was old. Two or three centuries of tinners must have worked down here, burrowing down from above and in from the cliffs. Many would have been killed.

I wailed in a sweat of fear to see what the thing would do when it reached the rotten lagging. Would it come on — or would it stop?

The figure reached the gap, stopped and then swung itself against the rock, feeling for the staples.

It was human.

But it wasn't Manack. It was much smaller than Manack. It wasn't his son either, or Slim or Friar. I hesitated. I hadn't been seen. I was in the shadow of my part of the gallery. The miner failed to find the expected foothold, drew back and bent down, looking for the staples that should have been there. The beam of his lamp shone like a disc of light straight at me. Then I found my voice. 'Who are you?' I asked.

The figure jumped back with a startled cry.

It was a woman's cry.

'Is that you, Jim?' asked Kitty's voice.

Relief, surprise, humiliation — they were all mixed up. 'Yes,' I said, coming out into the light of her lamp.

'Oh, thank God!' she said.

'What in the world are you doing down here?' I asked her.

'I came down to find you. Thank God you're all right.' The softness of her voice whispered back at me as though it had wandered through countless galleries.

'Didn't you think I would be?' I asked.

'I don't know,' she replied. 'I didn't know what to think. I saw Mr Manack come up. I was down by the sheds where you said you'd meet me. I waited. But you didn't come up. And then I got scared. I went down to the hideout. Mr Tanner hadn't seen you. I went out to the Mermaid then. I thought you might be down there. But you weren't, and when I got back you hadn't returned to the hideout. I was really scared then and decided to come up into the old workings. I thought you might have got lost — or something. But I see I needn't have bothered,' she added with a trace of sharpness.

I said, 'Is this the only way into the old workings?'

'No. There's one other way. It's a very low tunnel. You have to crawl flat on your stomach. A stranger wouldn't find it.'

'I see,' I murmured. 'But this is the way you'd normally come?'

'Yes. My stepfather drove staples into the rock.'

'Well, your stepfather's just knocked them out again.'

'What do you mean?'

'You won't find any staples now.'

'I was just looking for them when you spoke to me.' She peered down. 'No, you're right. They've been knocked out.'

'Yet less than an hour ago when I followed the old man across this gap, they were there. What do you know about that?'

'You mean — " She broke off, unwilling to put the thought into words.

'That's right,' I said. 'He led me up into a rabbit warren of galleries, then doubled back and cut off my only line of retreat. A nice fellow, your stepfather.'

'And he knew you were following him.' She said it slowly, stating it as a fact. 'He knew that, didn't he?'

'How did you guess?' I said, surprised.

'It's not a guess. I knew he meant you to go down the mine after him. When you left the kitchen I looked out of the window to — to see if there really was a moon. He was standing on the slope that leads down to the mine. He was looking back to the house, waiting. As soon as he saw you come round the house, he started on down towards the mine. I left the kitchen and followed you. I saw you hiding in the gorse, waiting for him to come out of the store shed. Then, when he disappeared down that shaft, I saw you run for the hoist. I waited and waited. At length Mr Manack came up — alone. I thought you'd be up soon after him. But you didn't come, so I went down to the hideout. It was then I got worried and decided to look for you in the mine. It's not a place for a stranger to be wandering in — even if he is a miner.'

'It certainly is not,' I told her. 'My torch has gone dead on me, I'm down to my last five matches, I've scrambled miles and had the fright of my life. I was just sitting here, thinking that this place was likely to be my tomb. Look, what about showing me that alternative route?'

'Yes,' she said. 'Wait there. I won't be long.' The light of her lamp faded down the gallery. Then suddenly all was dark again as she turned out of the gallery.

I became conscious once more of the unending drip of the water. That infernal darkness almost had me convinced Kitty had never been there, that I had imagined it all. I waited there in the darkness for five, maybe ten minutes. Then a light glowed in the gallery behind me. A moment later she was standing beside me and the great cleft where the tin had been sloped out showed clearly in the beam of the lamp she held in her hand.

The relief of having light and company! I found her hand in the darkness. 'I'd like to thank you,' I said.

'It's all right,' she said, and drew back timidly. 'I just felt there was something wrong, so I came down.' Her voice had fallen to a whisper.

'Well,' I said, 'I don't know what would have happened if you hadn't turned up. I'd have just stayed here till I rotted.'

'Somebody would have come to look for you.'

'I don't know,' I said, 'They might not have thought of looking for me up here. And I'd never have got across that gap. And I wouldn't have found the other way. I'd no light. It was only by luck I found my way back as far as this. He lost me in the farthest reaches of the old workings.' I turned her towards me. 'You saved my life, Kitty.'

'It's nothing,' she said, nervously.

'Well, it is to me,' I said with an attempt at a laugh that got stuck in my throat.

We were silent for a moment, neither of us knowing what to say. I turned her face towards me. She wouldn't look at me. But she didn't turn her head away. I bent and kissed her then. Her lips were warm and soft. I drew her close to me, but at the touch of my body she thrust away from me. She was panting and I caught the gleam of her eyes. They were wild and scared looking, like an animal's. But I needed her. I needed her close to me — to prove that I wasn't alone any more. I caught hold of her by the arms and drew her towards me. Her helmet fell clattering to the floor and her hair tumbled loose, hiding her face as she fought me off.

Suddenly she stopped struggling. The next instant her body was pressed close against me and her lips sought mine. They were open, inviting lips and she thrust against me with an abandon of passion that was quite wild. Then she drew quickly back and bent to pick up her helmet. I could hear her breath coming in quick pants. She turned back along the gallery. 'I'll show you the tunnel,' she said in a whisper as though she did not trust herself to speak to me.

I followed her. We came to the fall of soft rock, climbed the ledge and entered the hole that had led to the next gallery. She took the third cross-cut to the left and almost immediately turned left again. This gallery opened out to some height. She stopped and directed the beam of her lamp high up to a black hole in the rock. 'There you are,' she said. 'I don't think you would have found that.'

'I certainly wouldn't,' I said.

She led the way up a series of ledges in the wall and disappeared head first. I followed her. We crawled along on our stomachs for perhaps twenty yards. All I could see was her legs and buttocks humped against the light of the lamp which she held out ahead of her.

At last we emerged into another gallery and were able to stand upright. A few minutes later I could hear the rhythmic suck and thump of the pump. We turned left into a wider gallery that was full of noise — the noise of the pump, mingled with the gurgle and rush of water. At the end of the gallery we passed under the great bob as it see-sawed up and down. Ten minutes later we were in the gig clattering to the surface.

It's difficult to describe the utter relief with which I looked out upon the moonlit headland. There was the sea, all silvered, and the stars — and the old workings looked white and pleasant in the ghostly light. My whole body relaxed to the sight of it and I felt desperately tired. The fear I had felt down there in those twisting galleries, the sense of being lost, the darkness — it was all like some ghastly nightmare. I could not believe that it had really happened. It was as though I had just woken up. It just didn't seem real.

I suppose I was looking a little dazed, for she caught my hand, and said, 'You'd better come up to the house and get dry. You're wet through.'

'Yes,' I said.

She left me and went into the store shed. I just stood there, gazing at the moonlight. When she came out she had discarded her overalls. She had the skirt and jumper on that she'd been wearing that morning and her hair blew free about her face. 'How come you know your way around the mine?' I asked as we started up the slope to the house.

She laughed. 'I've lived here nearly all my life. You don't expect a young girl not to go exploring. And then, when my stepfather found I liked going down the mine, he used to take me with him. I was the only person he'd got to show his property to.'

'Why didn't you get away from the place?' I asked. I was thinking of this girl alone in the house with old Manack, alone with him except for the woman.

'I don't know,' she said softly. 'I've only been to Penzance once. That was to give evidence about — " She stopped then and added quickly, 'I didn't enjoy that visit. And then my stepfather was alone except for old Mrs Brynd and there was the war. Somebody had to look after the bit of a farm we've got.'

The thought of old Manack had brought the strength pouring back into me in a flood of anger. I'd have it out with him when I got up to the house. There was something more to it than just a desire not to have the sea let into the Mermaid. He was scared of something — scared of me. I'd seen it in his eyes down there in the Mermaid when he'd learned that I was Ruth Nearne's son. My hands clenched and I strode up that slope with the great sense of power that anger brings.

The girl understood my mood, for she said, 'You won't do anything hasty. Just dry your clothes and go back to the mine. You'll be clear in your mind about what's happened when you've slept on it.'

'I'm clear enough in my mind about it now,' I answered, and went on in silence.

A thought was gnawing at my brain. A man who'd commit murder like that, the way he'd tried to kill me — a man who'd do that must have a streak of madness in him. I remembered how his eyes had glittered down there in the Mermaid gallery. That was it, the man was mad. The sight of that rich lode had driven him crazy. And he'd seen that lode as a kid. He'd only had one idea after that — to own the mine and work that lode himself. That I

was the reason for his first marriage, and for his second. And if he'd to kill a man to prevent the sea being let into the mine, then he might have killed before. The thought in my mind was so horrible that I tried to throw it out. It would make my mother's madness more ghastly by far than I had ever dreamed.

I tried not to think about it, but strode on with my hands clenched. I'd have it out with him right now. I'd get the truth out of him if I had to kill him with my bare hands to do it.

We had come in sight of the house now. I could see the bars on the little dormer window. They stood out sharp against the panes, which were white with reflected moonlight.

The girl caught hold of my arm. 'You won't do anything, will you?' she asked again.

I didn't answer. I didn't want to talk to anybody about it. I just wanted to get at old Manack.

'Please,' she said. She was panting with the effort of keeping up with me. 'It won't do any good. He thought you were going to destroy the mine. He loves it. It's his only child. Please.'

We had reached the house now. I made straight for the front door, the girl clinging to my arm. I tried to shake her off. But she held on, pleading. The door was not locked. I went in. Then I turned and tore her hands loose from my arm.

'Please, Jim,' she cried. 'Please.'

But I got myself clear of her.

'You go back to your kitchen,' I said.

'No good will come of this,' she cried.

Her face was distraught in the moonlight and her breath came in sobs. I left her there, with her great eyes watching me in despair, and went down the dark corridor. It was dank and chill, like the galleries of the mine. My wet clothes clung to me and my boots squelched on the stone flags. There was a light shining under the door of the old man's study. I turned the handle and pushed the door open.

The old man was sitting at his desk. He looked up and when he saw me standing there in the doorway all dripping from the mine, he started to his feet, the lamplight shining on his pale eyes.

For a moment we stood there, staring at each other. I don't know whether he thought me a ghost or was just too startled to speak. Whatever it was, he just stared at me with his mouth opened like a cavity in his head. I turned and shut the door. Then I started towards him. And at the same moment he made a dive for a little iron pick-axe that stood on a shelf among some relics of early mining.

I reached him as his hand closed on the deadly weapon. He fought me off with a strength that was incredible in a man of his age. But I was stronger than he was. I twisted the pick from his grasp and flung him back. He fetched up against his desk, overturning the big swivel chair with a crash.

He was frightened now. I could see it in his eyes. His tongue showed through his beard as he licked his lips. He was breathing heavily. 'What do you want?' he asked. 'If it's about your mother, you know all there is to know. She was mad.'

I felt an itch to get my thumbs into the grey stubble of his neck. 'I'm not sure it isn't you who are mad,' I said, keeping a hold on my anger. His eyes stared at me. They didn't blink. It was as though they had no lids to them. And they were pale — paler than I'd ever seen a man's eyes. I said, 'You thought I wouldn't get out of those old workings, didn't you? You thought I'd die, trapped down there beyond that stoping. You wanted me to die.'

His hands had tightened on the edge of the desk. 'I don't know what you're talking about.' He made an attempt at aloofness, but his voice trembled.

'Yes, you do,' I said. 'You knew I was following you. You deliberately led me into the old part of the mine. And then you went back and knocked those staples out.'

'How was I to know you were following me?' he asked.

'Why did you knock those staples out?' I asked him.

'I didn't want any one going up into those workings.' He stood up. 'What I do on my own property is my business, Pryce. Wheal Garth belongs to me. And no damned deserter I

of a miner is coming letting the sea into Wheal Garth.'

'Deserter of a miner, is it?' I roared. 'And what are you then? A murderer.'

At the word he seemed to shrink back, his face pale. The skin of his cheeks tightened across the bones so that his beard seemed to grow out of his skull. 'No,' he said. 'No.' His beard lifted. 'That's a lie,' he almost screamed.

'It's not a lie,' I thundered. 'You left me to die, buried alive in your damned mine because you were afraid of me. You had no more consideration for me than you had for the dog you flung down that shaft after your wife — or than you had for my mother.'

He seemed to have shrunk in stature. He looked bent and old. 'I did it to save your mother,' he said. 'I tell you I did it to save her.'

His vehemence brought the horrible thing that had been in my mind crawling to the surface. I tried to dispel it. It just wasn't possible. And yet… 'Your wife, Harriet, left you all her holdings in Wheal Garth, didn't she?'

He seemed to sense the drift of my question, for he began to tremble and didn't speak.

'Didn't she?' I shouted at him.

He nodded. He seemed mesmerised. Those pale, unblinking eyes were fixed upon me as though — yes, as though they saw some horror.

'Did my mother have any holdings in Wheal Garth?' I asked him.

His eyes flickered. I don't think he was capable of answering my question. He was dumb with fear.

'James Nearne, my mother's father, owned this place,' I said. 'He was landlord here when it was a pub. When the mine was still working. Now you own Cripples' Ease. My mother made it over to you, didn't she? She must have done.' I went towards him then. 'Did James Nearne also own shares in Wheal Garth?' I asked him.

And when he didn't answer, I said, 'So my mother made those over to you, too, eh? And your first wife left you her holdings in Wheal Garth. Three women — and they all owned shares in Wheal Garth. And they all died,' I added.

Still he was silent.

'I understand now,' I said. 'You killed them. You and your love of that cursed mine. You got their holdings and you killed them.'

'I didn't,' he shrieked, suddenly finding his tongue. His lower lip was trembling visibly. Stark madness stared out of those pale eyes. He leaned forward then. 'They would not work the mine, you see. A mine has a soul. A derelict mine is a devilish thing. It kills people, unless they take notice of it. It kills them, I tell you,' he cried. 'That's why Harriet died. It was the mine. And your mother. And you,' he screamed. 'Wheal Garth'll not let you destroy its riches by letting in the sea. It'll kill 'ee. You see if it don't.' There was a froth of spittle on his lips and his eyes glittered as he stood there screaming at me like a monkey. And I faced him, dumb with horror, appalled at his admission.

Then the door was flung open. 'What the hell's going on here?' It was Captain Manack.

'You keep out of this,' I said.

'Get back to the mine,' he ordered. 'You've no business to be up here, anyway. What'd happen if the police paid a visit? There's gossip enough as it is.'

'Who cares about the police?' I answered. I was angry at his interruption. I wanted time to work it out. The mine had killed them, he had said. And he was the mine. That meant that he had killed them. He had killed his wife — he, and not my mother. My God, what a fiend! He'd killed his wife and made my mother think she had done it. 'You crazy swine,' I muttered.

His son came forward and caught my arm as I moved towards the old man. I flung him off. There was murder in me at that moment. The Captain must have seen it in my eyes, for he cried out, 'Pryce!' His voice rang as though he was calling a platoon of infantry to attention. 'Stand back, will you.'

I said, 'This is between your father and me. You keep out of it. And when I've finished with him,' I added through my teeth, 'you can look after the bits.'

'Get out of here,' he ordered. 'Do you hear? Get out!'

'Not until I've finished with this murderous swine,' I said.

But as I started for the old man, who was cowering against the desk, the Captain suddenly called out, 'Stay where you are, Pryce — or by God I'll shoot you.'

I stopped then, for he had a gun in his hand.

'That's better,' he said. And his teeth showed angrily beneath his moustache. 'Stand back against the wall. Go on — stand back.' Reluctantly I did as he ordered. 'Now then, what's the trouble?' he asked. His voice was tense.

'This,' I answered hotly. 'Your father's a murderer. He's just tried to kill me down in Wheal Garth. And he killed his second wife. He pitched her down that shaft and then persuaded my mother that she'd done it. He killed my mother and Kitty's. For all I know he killed yours as well.'

'No. My mother died naturally. But he did kill his second wife.' The son's lips were drawn in a tight little smile. 'That's why I control what happens in Wheal Garth,' he added.

At that there was a terrific crash. We all swung round. Kitty was standing there in the open doorway, her face ghastly white and the broken remnants of the tea tray on the floor at her feet. '— I was bringing you some tea,' she said in a pitifully small voice.

'Better go back to the kitchen, Kitty,' I said.

She looked at me with staring eyes. Then she nodded slowly and went out as though in a daze.

Seeing her go so stunned by what she'd heard made me realise the pathetic tragedy of it all. This old man crazed with the lust for tin, and Kitty living here and not knowing he had murdered her own mother.

The old man saw the open door and suddenly darted towards it. I thrust out my foot and he pitched headlong to the floor. I'd have been on to him if his son hadn't suddenly barked at me to keep back. There was something in the way that man held a gun that made it clear he wouldn't hesitate to use it. The old man was scrambling to his feet. He reached the door, mumbling incoherently to himself. Then he vanished into the corridor.

'Let him go,' said Captain Manack. 'I'll look after him in a minute.' He motioned me to a seat. 'See here, Pryce,' he said. 'This has been a bit of a shock to you. But there's nothing you can do about it — not now. Killing him' — he jerked his head towards the open door — 'won't bring your mother back. He's mad. I've known it ever since I came back. The mine has driven him crazy. What happened this evening? What started all this?'

I told him. When I'd finished, he nodded slowly. 'I was afraid of that,' he said. 'But I thought his guilty conscience would keep him clear of you.'

'What are you going to do now?' I said. 'There must be some justice in the world.' I got to my feet. 'My God, Manack! I want the swine brought to justice. He drove my mother mad. The sheer, calculated cruelty of it is horrible. I want justice,' I cried, thumping the desk. 'And by God I'll have it, even if it means giving myself up and standing a court martial.'

'Listen,' he said. 'What good will that do you? None. Absolutely none. I'll look after the old man. I'll lock him up. From now on he'll be out of harm's way. You do the job you have to do. Then you clear off. He'll get his desserts. He'll spend the rest of his life wandering forlornly through the galleries of Wheal Garth watching the sea slopping about in the gallery that might have brought him a fortune. He's mad enough now. He'll die a crazy, pathetic old man. You'll have your revenge, if that's what you're seeking.'

'I'm not seeking revenge.' I told him. 'It's justice I want.'

He shrugged his shoulders. 'You can do what you like when you've finished this job for me,' he said. 'But he won't hang, even if you can prove it — which I doubt. They'd send him to Broadmoor. And you'd serve a sentence for desertion. You'd drag your mother's name through the courts — see her wretched history plastered all over the pages of the Sunday press. And destroy Kitty entirely,' he added.

He was right there. I leaned against the desk. The anger had gone. I felt flat and tired. 'I guess you're right,' I said. The thought of Kitty, who had only once been as far as Penzance, giving evidence from the witness box at a murder trial — it was unthinkable. 'Okay,' I said. 'I'll let him be.' And I went towards the door. Then I stopped. 'But see he's locked up safe. I'm not working down in the Mermaid if he's loose — not with all that water standing over us in Come Lucky.'

'Don't worry about that,' he answered. 'I don't trust him any more than you do.'

I hesitated. I wanted to tell him I was clearing out — leaving the place — getting right away from the whole rotten business. But he sat there watching me, the gun in his hand and his eyes narrowed. He wouldn't let me go. I knew that. He'd too much to lose. He'd kill me rather than let me get clear of the place.

I went out and closed the door behind me. Now that my anger was gone I felt adrift. I had no purpose. Disgust for the whole rotten business filled my mind. I felt the way Hamlet must have felt. The manner of my mother's death called for vengeance. And yet I could not do it. I could not just kill the old man in cold blood. He was mad. And disgust, not anger, filled me. I'd go away. I'd get clear of it all.

Then I saw the kitchen door facing me. And through it came the sound of a girl sobbing. It was a wild, uncontrolled sound. I opened the door and went in. Kitty was alone. She was sitting by the fire, her shoulders racked by sobs so violent that it seemed impossible for her body to stand it. Her face was white even in the ruddy glow of the flames. She didn't see me. She was staring into the fire and her eyes were dry.

'Kitty!' I said.

She didn't hear me.

I went over to her and took her by the shoulders. She looked up then and saw me. The sobbing stopped. She seemed to be holding her breath. Then suddenly she bent her head against my body and the tears came. Her body trembled and shook in my hands. 'Don't cry,' I said. 'It's past now. It couldn't be helped.'

'It could,' she cried out wildly. 'It could. Oh, Jim — how can you forgive me? She was so good to me. And I believed him. I believed what he said of her. I should have known she didn't do it. I couldn't have saved my mother. But I could have saved her.' She looked up at me wildly. 'Say you forgive me, Jim. Say you forgive me. I couldn't have known, could I?'

'Of course not,' I said, stroking her hair. The poor kid was beside herself.

'Oh God!' she breathed. 'It's so horrible. All that year. She was in that room a year. And she believed she'd done it. She believed she was mad. Oh, if I'd only known,' she sobbed. 'It's my fault. I shouldn't have believed it of her. If I hadn't believed it, then she wouldn't have.'

'Then he'd have killed her a different way,' I said gently. 'Don't worry, Kitty. It wasn't your fault.'

She clutched at my hand and held it tight against her wet cheek. 'She used to tell me fairy stories when I was a little girl with pigtails,' she said in a stifled voice. 'She loved me. I should have known. Her face looking at me through the hatch… Oh, God!'

The door opened and Captain Manack came in. 'The old man's not in his room,' he said. He came up and caught hold of Kitty. 'Did you hear my father come out?'

She gulped and then nodded.

'Which way did he go — upstairs?'

She shook her head. 'He went out the front door,' she said slowly.

He let her go then and turned to me. 'He's down the mine. You come down with us.' He turned quickly and went out through the scullery. I heard him shouting for Friar and Slim.

'Listen, Kitty,' I said, seizing her by the shoulders and forcing her to look at me. 'You can't stay here. Do you understand? You must go away.'

She nodded slowly. And then she said in a small, lost voice, 'But where? I've nowhere to go. I hate this place. But I've never been anywhere else.'

'You're coming away with me.' I said it without thinking, my mind suddenly made up.

She stared at me. Voices sounded through the open scullery door. They were coming nearer. 'Meet me down at the mine at three o'clock in the morning. There's no time to talk about it,' I said quickly as footsteps sounded on the cobbles of the stables. 'Meet me at three o'clock. Understand?'

She nodded slowly. She was too dazed to think it out. She would have agreed to anything I said at that moment. 'Promise?' I said.

'I promise,' she answered.

I heard Friar's voice saying, 'Ruddy lark, this is — I don't fink. We bin on the job since six this mornin', yer know, Capting. I didn't aim ter spend the night playin' tag wiv your old man down that bleedin' mine.' They stopped in the scullery.

'We've gotto find him,' Captain Manack answered sharply. Then he came through into the kitchen. 'Come on, Pryce,' he said.

'I'll stay up here for a bit,' I said. 'The girl's had a shock.'

'To hell with the girl,' he snapped. 'Come on now.'

'I'm staying with the girl,' I told him.

'You're coming down the mine with us.' There was an implied threat in the quietness of his voice. 'Don't start any trouble up here,' he added, and glanced towards Kitty.

I had half a mind to defy him. But it wouldn't do any good. He'd got his gun. I could see the shape of it bulging in his pocket. 'All right,' I said. Then I turned to Kitty. 'Promise?' I asked her again.

She nodded slowly. 'I promise,' she said as though repeating something she'd been taught.

I left her then and went out with Manack. As he shut the door behind us, I saw her sitting just as she had been when I had come in, her eyes staring straight in front of her without seeing anything. I think it must have been then that I realised that I loved her. I know it suddenly seemed quite natural that I'd decided to take her with me when I left in the morning. And the sight of her suffering tore at me as though it were myself that was suffering.

Outside, I was surprised to see that the moon was still shining. It seemed such a long time back that Kitty and I had gone into the house.

We walked hurriedly and in silence, Manack beside me. Slim and Friar behind. We reached the mine buildings. They went into the store shed and got helmets and lamps and clothes. Then we went into the hoist. 'Suppose 'e's wanderin' aba't the cliffs?' Friar said. "E might be anywhere. Don't yer fink one of us better stay on top?'

'No,' Manack answered and we got into the gig. 'He's down the mine. It's the place he'd naturally go.' He flung the lever over and we began to descend. But he stopped at the store room gallery. 'This is where you get off, Pryce,' he said.

'You don't want me down the mine?' I said.

'No.' He stepped out beside me. 'I'm not taking any chances with you, my lad — not after what's happened. Dave!' he shouted. 'Dave! Where is that damned Welshman? Dave!'

The light of a torch flickered. 'Yes. Yes, what is it?' Dave Tanner's voice sounded agitated as he suddenly appeared in the gallery.

'Oh, there you are. Have you got a gun?'

'Indeed I have, Captain. I always — "

'Then keep an eye on your chum, Pryce. You're not to leave him — understand? If he tries to get away use your gun. I hold you responsible for him.' He turned to me. 'Don't take this amiss, Pryce. I don't mean you any harm, but I'm taking no chances. A couple of days and you'll be through. Then you can go.'

His action had taken me so completely by surprise that I said nothing for a moment. Dave had reached us now. The whites of his eyes showed in his swarthy face. 'What is the trouble, Captain?' he asked.

'There's no trouble,' Manack replied sharply. 'Just see that he's here in the morning, that's all.' His voice dropped. 'If he's not — well, you won't get your passage to Italy.'

The menace in his voice brought sudden suspicion to my mind. 'When I've done this job for you,' I said, 'what guarantee have I that you'll let me go then?'

'My word,' he answered. 'I've never gone back on my word, Pryce. You'll sail on the Arisaig Monday night if the Mermaid's opened up by then.'

'And get murdered by that swine Mulligan,' I said.

His face darkened and he caught hold of my arm. 'I told you I never went back on my word, didn't I? He'll have instructions to land you at Naples.'

He met my gaze and I knew that he would do what he said. 'All right,' I said.

He nodded and stepped back into the gig. Friar put the lever over and it rattled out of sight down into the bowels of the mine.

'Whatever's happened, man?' Dave said. 'I waited and waited. I thought you'd never come back. I don't like it here at all — not on my own. There's the sound of the water, you know, and it's so quiet.' And when I didn't say anything, he said. 'Is it a row with the Captain you've had?' The sound of the gig ceased. Everything was quiet — only the drip of the water. I shivered and turned towards Dave. He started back. 'It is a ghost you've seen, man?' he said. 'You're as white as a sheet. And your clothes — they're all wet.'

'Yes,' I said, 'I'm cold and wet.'

I went along the gallery to the hideout. Dave stepped aside to let me pass, his hand in his jacket pocket. He was scared of me — scared of Manack — scared of himself. He made me nervous.

As soon as I was inside the hideout, he pulled the slabs to and bolted them. Even then he kept his distance. I stripped and towelled myself down. All the time he plied me with questions. In the end I told him how old Manack had tried to kill me.

'Ter-rible!' he said. 'Ter-rible!' He sat there shaking his head, living the fear that I had suffered with all the emotionalism of his race. 'But why did he do it, man?'

'He didn't want me letting the sea into his beloved mine,' I told him.

'You should have stayed here with me,' he said. 'Worried to death I was about you. I thought maybe the police had come. I went out once. But then I was afraid that if they came, they'd search the mine. I bolted myself in. Like being in a coffin, it was. I got scared. It was so quiet and me not knowing what was happening in the world outside.'

And so he went on whilst I sat and tried to think. The old man was loose in the mine. And Kitty up there alone in the house. How was I to meet her at three in the morning with Dave Tanner sitting there, nervous as a kitten, and his hand on the butt of a gun? And if I did meet her, where were we to go! I was a fool. All I'd been thinking about when I'd told her to meet me was getting out of the place. I'd forgotten I was wanted by the police — forgotten that a description of me had been published. And whilst I tried to sort it out in my mind, that damned little Welshman went on talking. I tried to shut him up. But it was like telling water to stay in a bottle with a broken bottom. He just had to talk. He had to talk because he was scared to sit silent.

In the end I could stand it no longer, 'I'm going outside,' I said. I had to know whether they had located the old man. I got to my feet. In the same instant Dave had leapt to the entrance, the gun in his hand. 'No, you don't,' he said.

'Listen, Dave,' I said, 'I need some fresh air.'

'So do I,' he answered. 'But the Captain said I was to keep you here. And it's not going against the Captain's orders I am.'

'I can't stand this place,' I said. 'It's like a tomb.'

'It is indeed. But — " He shrugged his shoulders.

I said, 'You realise that the old man means to kill me. He's tried already and he'll try again. He's loose in the mine at this moment. For all I know he's outside in the gallery right now. One charge and he could have us walled up in here by a fall of rock.'

Dave's eyes dilated in horror. 'You really think that?'

I nodded. 'And they'd never get us out in time,' I said.

'You think he'd try?'

'He might. You don't want to be trapped down here, do you?'

'Indeed I don't. I've always hated being shut in anywhere, you see.'

'Well, then, let's go up top,' I suggested. 'I won't try and escape if that's what you're scared of. Where the hell would I go? I'm wanted by the police the same as you.

'That's true enough.' He went over the entrance and shot back the bolt. 'We'll wait in the gallery.'

'Why not up top?' I suggested.

'The Captain may return.'

With that I had to be content. At least I could watch for the gig to come up. We dragged a couple of boxes out into the gallery and sat there. Dave was taking no chances and stationed himself well behind me. For a time he talked incessantly. But gradually he grew silent. I felt tired and sleepy. The time dragged by. I think I must have dozed for I started awake and heard the rattle of the gig coming up. Dave turned out his lamp. A faint glow showed at the end of the gallery. It grew bright and the sound of the gig grew louder. Then for a brief instant I had a glimpse of miners' lamps and the bearded skull of the elder Manack standing between Friar and his son.

A match flared in the darkness and Dave relit his lamp.

'I'm going up top,' I said.

'Stay where you are.' Dave's voice was nervous again.

'I want to see the old man safely clear of the mine,' I said. 'For God's sake, man, what's the matter with you; I shan't run with Captain Manack within call.'

That seemed to satisfy him and he followed me without further protest as I went up the cross-cut to the shaft and climbed the ladder to the top. The moon was sinking towards the sea, throwing long shadows across the white landscape. I breathed in the fresh air and, as we sat down on a patch of bracken among the gorse bushes, I sensed that Dave was less nervous up here in the open air.

We hadn't been there a few minutes before figures moved out of the black shadows of the sheds. There were four of them. Friar and Slim each had hold of one of the old man's arms. His son followed behind. They climbed the hill towards us. As they came within earshot Slim was saying, 'Bloody lucky, I call it.'

'It fair makes me sweat ter fink aba't it,' Friar said.

'Well, see that you don't mention it to Pryce,' Captain Manack ordered. 'I don't want him getting scared.'

'I'm all fer goin' back ter the nice peaceful life of makin' kerb stones,' Friar said. 'Wot you say, Slim? Kerb stones is a sort o' restful thing ter be makin'.'

'You didn't think much of the job when we were cutting those ledges,' Slim answered sourly.

'Well, yer can 'ave too much of a good thing. Nah all we fink of is liquor.' He spat. 'Some o' these 'ere ruddy Black Marketeers oughter come an' get their liquor the 'ard way — like we does.'

The sound of their voices died away. I watched them disappear over the brow of the hill, four dark figures against the moon-filled sky. 'What about going up to the top of the hill and seeing him safely inside the house?' I said. 'I won't be happy till I know the old man's safely locked up.' The time was two-thirty. I had to keep him above ground till three.

He hesitated. 'All right,' he said.

We went slowly up the hill. I bore away slightly to the left where there was a gulley that ran up close to the house. We went up this and came out within fifty yards of Cripples' Ease. There was no one about. The house stood square and unbeautiful, looking out with pale eyes to the sea. 'Come on,' Dave said. 'He's safe enough now.'

A light flickered suddenly in the little dormer window. The bars showed clearly against the orange glow. Then the light vanished as though cut off by the closing of a door. Dave was plucking at my elbow. I shook him off impatiently. Something told me what I should see and it fascinated me. For a moment the window remained as blind as the others. Then suddenly I saw what I was waiting for.

Pressed close to the panes was Manack's bearded face. I can see it now — haggard and drawn. He was looking out to the mine and his face caught the light of the sinking moon so that it was white as the face of a ghost.