‘We daren’t wait, Martha,’ answered Morris kindly; ’and it’s no use, lass; the master’s too many for thee. But thee go down to Stephen; and we’ll move the things safe, as if they were our own, and put them where they’ll not be broken; and we’ll take care of little Nan and thy poor old grandfather. Tell Stephen we’re desperately cut up about it ourselves; but, if we hadn’t done it, somebody that has no good-will towards him would have taken the job. So go thy poor ways with thee, my lass; we are main sorry for thee and Stephen.’
The hot, choking smoke from the limekiln was blowing across the works; and the dusty pit-bank was covered with busy men and boys and girls, shouting, laughing, singing, and swearing, when Martha arrived at Botfield. She was rarely seen at the pit, for her thrifty and housewifely habits kept her busy at Fern’s Hollow; and the rough, loud voices of the banksmen, the regular beat of the engine, the clanking of chains, and the dust and smoke and heat of the almost strange scene bewildered the hillside girl. She made her way to the cabin, a little hut built near the mouth of the shaft for the use of the people employed about the pit; but before she could see Tim, or fix upon any one to inquire about Stephen from, a girl of her own age, but with a face sunburnt and blackened from her rough and unwomanly work, and in an uncouth dress of sackcloth, which was grimed with coal-dust, came up and peered boldly in her face.
‘Why, it’s Miss Fern!’ she cried, with a loud laugh; ’Miss Fern, Esq., of Fern’s Hollow, come to learn us poor pit-folk scholarship and manners. Here, lads! here’s Mr. Stephen Fern’s fine sister, as knows more nor all of us put together. Give us a bit of your learning, Miss Fern.’
‘I know a black-bess when I see one,’ replied Martha sharply; and all the boys and girls joined in a ready roar of merriment against Bess Thompson, whose nickname was the common country name for a beetle.
‘That’ll do!’ they shouted; ’she knows a black-bess! Thee’s got thy answer, Bess Thompson.’
‘What’s brought thee to the pit?’ asked Bess fiercely; ’we want no scatter-witted hill girls here, I can tell ye. So get off the pit-bank, afore I drive thee off.’
‘What’s all this hullabaloo?’ inquired Tim, making his appearance at the cabin door. ’Why, Martha, what brings thee at the pit? Come in here, and tell me what’s up now.’
Tim listened to Martha’s tearful story with great amazement and indignation; and, after a few minutes’ consideration, he told her he had nothing much to do, and he would get leave to take Stephen’s place for the rest of the day, so as to set him free to go home at once. He left her standing in the middle of the cabin, for the rough benches round it looked too black for her to venture to take a seat upon them; and in a short time he shouted to her from a skep, which was being lowered into the pit, promising her that Stephen should come up as soon as possible.