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"No, I aren't. I've been down the mine in the dark."
"And got frightened?"
"Not as I knows on, Master Mark. It's the thinks."
"Here, what do you mean, thick-head? I can't stop here listening to your nonsense."
"'Taren't nonsense, Master Mark," said the boy, giving him a peculiar stare.
"What is it, then?"
"I want to know where that water goes to yonder in the mine."
"What! do you mean to say you've had me fetched out to tell me that?"
Dummy nodded, and Mark doubled his fist.
"I've got it, Master Mark."
"Got what, you idiot?"
"We're up ever so much higher here than they are at Ergles, yonder, aren't we?"
"Higher? Of course," said Mark, looking at the lad curiously; "but what of that?"
"That's what I wanted you to tell me, Master Mark, and that's it then."
"What's what then?"
"Why, that water in the mine where we went along, and was under us when we went to sleep--that goes along under ground, right under the moorland, and it comes out again in Ergles Dale."
"Do you think it goes in that direction?"
Dummy nodded.
"Well, but suppose it does, what then?"
"I'm sure it does now, Master Mark, and what the thinks have made me see's this: if you and me had kept going on instead of sitting down, and eating and drinking till we went fas' asleep, we should have found ourselves in Ergles Hole, and if it hadn't been for the Purlrose gang, we might have worked back 'bove ground."
"Why, Dummy! I don't know--yes, if it's that way--goes for miles. I say, perhaps you're right."
"Yes, I'm right," said the boy quietly; "but you don't jump about a bit: you aren't glad."
"Glad? Jump about? Why should I? Oh!"
"Haw--haw--haw!" laughed Dummy. "He can see it now. Why, it come to me, Master Mark, like a flash of lightning."
"Oh, Dummy, I'll never call you a thick-head again," cried Mark excitedly.
"Why not? May if you like: I don't mind."
"Then you think," cried the lad, who was trembling now with excitement, "that we might get into Ergles through our mine?"
"Sure I do--all along them grotters and pa.s.sages."
"And take the ruffians by surprise?"
"Ketch 'em asleep, Master Mark. They'd never think of our coming behind, like."
Mark seized the boy by the shoulders, and shook him as hard as ever he could.
"Why, you stupid old, ugly old, cleverest fellow that ever was! Why didn't you think of this before?"
"Couldn't, Master Mark," cried the boy, grinning as if he were determined to display every tooth in his head; "it never come till this morning. Right, aren't I?"
"Right! You must be. But suppose we can't get all the way?"
"Water does. Sure to be plenty of room. See how there always was."
"Hurrah! Then we'll go at once."
"What, us two?"
"Of course!"
"We couldn't fight all that lot. Six to one!"
"No; we must go and tell my father at once."
"That's best way," said Dummy, jumping off the stone. "Come on," and they started off at once for the tiny camp, discussing the possibility of the men finding the way through.
"Suppose they got into the mine, and attacked the Black Tor while we're away?"
"No fear o' that, Master Mark," said Dummy, with another of his nice open smiles. "Not many folk as would go and do what we did."
"No, I suppose not," said Mark thoughtfully.
"I'm sort of used to it, Master Mark, from always being down the mine, and always wanting to see where every hole went. No, I don't think any o' them would care to go. Too big and clumsy. They'd never get there."
CHAPTER TWENTY NINE.
PLAYING MOLE.
Sir Edward met them as they ascended the slope, Mark having been taking mental notes all the way of the trend of the hills and the valley, seeing for certain that, in spite of its bulk and height, Ergles was a good deal lower than the range along the valley of the Gleame.
Their narrative of adventure below was listened to in silence, and Sir Edward grew moment by moment more interested till the whole was told.