You are here
قراءة كتاب Patience Wins: War in the Works
تنويه: تعرض هنا نبذة من اول ١٠ صفحات فقط من الكتاب الالكتروني، لقراءة الكتاب كاملا اضغط على الزر “اشتر الآن"
Uncle Dick; “settle it.”
“No,” said my father, “it shall be settled by you three.”
“I know what I think,” said Uncle Jack; “but I’d rather you’d say.”
“My mind’s made up,” said Uncle Bob, “but I don’t want to be speaker. You settle it, Alick.”
“No,” said my father; “I have laid the case before you three, who have equal stakes in the risk, and you shall settle the matter.”
There was a dead silence in the room, which was so still that the sputtering noise made by the big lamp and the tinkle of a few cinders that fell from the fire sounded painfully loud. They looked at each other, but no one spoke, till Uncle Dick had fidgeted about in his chair for some time, and then, giving his big beard a twitch, he bent forward.
I heard my other uncles sigh as if they were relieved, and they sat back farther in their seats listening for what Uncle Dick, who was the eldest, might wish to say.
“Look here,” he cried at last.
Everybody did look there, but saw nothing but Uncle Dick, who kept tugging at one lock of his beard, as if that was the string that would let loose a whole shower-bath of words.
“Well!” he said, and there was another pause.
“Here,” he cried, as if seized by a sudden fit of inspiration, “let’s hear what Cob has to say.”
“Bravo! Hear, hear, hear!” cried my two uncles in chorus, and Uncle Dick smiled and nodded and looked as if he felt highly satisfied with himself; while I, with a face that seemed to be all on fire, jumped up excitedly and cried:
“Let’s all go and begin again.”
“That’s it—that settles it,” cried Uncle Bob.
“Yes, yes,” said Uncle Dick and Uncle Jack. “He’s quite right. We’ll go.”
Then all three beat upon the table with book and pencil and compasses, and cried, “Hear, hear, hear!” while I shrank back into my chair, and felt half ashamed of myself as I glanced at my father and wondered whether he was angry on account of what I had proposed.
“That is settled then,” he said quietly. “Jacob has been your spokesman; and now let me add my opinion that you have taken the right course. What I propose is this, that one of us stays and carries on the business here till the others have got the Arrowfield affair in full swing. Who will stay?”
There was no answer.
“Shall I?” said my father.
“Yes, if you will,” they chorused.
“Very good,” said my father. “I am glad to do so, for that will give me plenty of time to make arrangements for Jacob here.”
“But he must go with us,” said Uncle Dick.
“Yes, of course,” said Uncle Jack.
“Couldn’t go without him.”
“But his education as an engineer?”
“Now, look here, Alick,” said Uncle Dick, “don’t you think he’ll learn as much with us down at the new works as in any London place?”
My father sat silent and thoughtful, while I watched the play of his countenance and trembled as I saw how he was on the balance. For it would have been terrible to me to have gone away now just as a new life of excitement and adventure was opening out.
“Do you really feel that you would like Jacob to go with you?” said my father at last.
There was a unanimous “Yes!” at this, and my heart gave a jump.
“Well, then,” said my father, “he shall go.”
That settled the business, except a general shaking of hands, for we were all delighted, little thinking, in our innocence, of the troubles, the perils, and the dangers through which we should have to go.
Chapter Two.
A Fiery Place.
No time was lost. The agreements were signed, and Uncle Dick packed up his traps, as he called them, that is to say, his books, clothes, and models and contrivances, so as to go down at once, take possession of the works, and get apartments for us.
I should have liked to go with him, but I had to stay for another week, and then, after a hearty farewell, we others started, my father, mother, and sister seeing us off by rail; and until I saw the trees, hedges, and houses seeming to fly by me I could hardly believe that we were really on our way.
Of course I felt a little low-spirited at leaving home, and I was a little angry with myself for seeming to be so glad to get away from those who had been so patient and kind, but I soon found myself arguing that it would have been just the same if I had left home only to go to some business place in London. Still I was looking very gloomy when Uncle Jack clapped me on the shoulder, and asked me if I didn’t feel like beginning to be a man.
“No,” I said sadly, as I looked out of the window at the flying landscape, so that he should not see my face. “I feel more as if I was beginning to be a great girl.”
“Nonsense!” said Uncle Bob; “you’re going to be a man now, and help us.”
“Am I?” said I sadly.
“To be sure you are. There, put that gloomy face in your pocket and learn geography.”
They both chatted to me, and I felt a little better, but anything but cheerful, for it was my first time of leaving home. I looked at the landscape, and the towns and churches we passed, but nothing seemed to interest me till, well on in my journey, I saw a sort of wooden tower close to the line, with a wheel standing half out of the top. There was an engine-house close by—there was no doubt about it, for I could see the puffs of white steam at the top, and a chimney. There was a great mound of black slate and rubbish by the end; but even though the railway had a siding close up to it, and a number of trucks were standing waiting, I did not realise what the place was till Uncle Jack said:
“First time you’ve seen a coal-pit, eh?”
“Is that a coal-pit?” I said, looking at the place more eagerly.
“Those are the works. Of course you can’t see the shaft, because that’s only like a big square well.”
“But I thought it would be a much more interesting place,” I said.
“Interesting enough down below; but of course there is nothing to see at the top but the engine, cage, and mouth of the shaft.”
That brightened me up at once. There was something to think about in connection with a coal-mine—the great deep shaft, the cage going up and down, the miners with their safety-lamps and picks. I saw it all in imagination as we dashed by another and another mine. Then I began to think about the accidents of which I had read; when men unfastened their wire-gauze lamps, so that they might do that which was forbidden in a mine, smoke their pipes. The match struck or the opened lamp set fire to the gas, when there was an awful explosion, and after that the terrible dangers of the after-damp, that fearful foul air which no man could breathe for long and live.
There were hundreds of thoughts like this to take my attention as we raced on by the fast train till, to my surprise, I found that it was getting dark, and the day had passed.
“Here we are close to it,” said Uncle Jack; “look, my lad.”
I gazed out of the window on our right as the train glided on, to see the glare as of a city on fire: the glow of a dull red flickered and danced upon the dense clouds that overhung the place. Tall chimneys stood up like black stakes or posts set up in the reflection of open furnace doors. Here a keen bright light went straight up through the smoke with the edges exactly defined—here it was a sharp glare, there a dull red glow, and everywhere there seemed to be fire and reflection, and red or golden smoke mingled with a dull throbbing booming sound, which, faintly heard at first, grew louder and louder as the train slackened speed, and the pant and pulsation of the engine ceased.
“Isn’t something dreadful the matter?” I said, as I gazed excitedly from the window.
“Matter!” said Uncle Jack