Nevertheless, I took up the hammer, and swinging it far behind my head, fetched it down, with all my power, upon the middle of the rock.  The roof above rang mightily, and the echo went down delven galleries, so that all the miners flocked to know what might be doing.  But Master Carfax only smiled, although the blow shook him where he stood, for behold the stone was still unbroken, and as firm as ever.  Then I smote it again, with no better fortune, and Uncle Ben looked vexed and angry, but all the miners grinned with triumph.

“This little tool is too light,” I cried; “one of you give me a piece of strong cord.”

Then I took two more of the weightiest hammers, and lashed them fast to the back of mine, not so as to strike, but to burden the fall.  Having made this firm, and with room to grasp the handle of the largest one only—­for the helves of the others were shorter—­I smiled at Uncle Ben, and whirled the mighty implement round my head, just to try whether I could manage it.  Upon that the miners gave a cheer, being honest men, and desirous of seeing fair play between this “shameless stone” (as Dan Homer calls it) and me with my hammer hammering.

Then I swung me on high to the swing of the sledge, as a thresher bends back to the rise of his flail, and with all my power descending delivered the ponderous onset.  Crashing and crushed the great stone fell over, and threads of sparkling gold appeared in the jagged sides of the breakage.

[Illustration:  544.jpg Swung me on high]

“How now, Simon Carfax?” cried Uncle Ben triumphantly; “wilt thou find a man in Cornwall can do the like of that?”

“Ay, and more,” he answered; “however, it be pretty fair for a lad of these outlandish parts.  Get your rollers, my lads, and lead it to the crushing engine.”

I was glad to have been of some service to them; for it seems that this great boulder had been too large to be drawn along the gallery and too hard to crack.  But now they moved it very easily, taking piece by piece, and carefully picking up the fragments.

“Thou hast done us a good turn, my lad,” said Uncle Reuben, as the others passed out of sight at the corner; “and now I will show thee the bottom of a very wondrous mystery.  But we must not do it more than once, for the time of day is the wrong one.”

The whole affair being a mystery to me, and far beyond my understanding, I followed him softly, without a word, yet thinking very heavily, and longing to be above ground again.  He led me through small passages, to a hollow place near the descending shaft, where I saw a most extraordinary monster fitted up.  In form it was like a great coffee-mill, such as I had seen in London, only a thousand times larger, and with heavy windlass to work it.

“Put in a barrow-load of the smoulder,” said Uncle Ben to Carfax, “and let them work the crank, for John to understand a thing or two.”

“At this time of day!” cried Simon Carfax; “and the watching as has been o’ late!”