Brownsmiths Boy - A Romance in a Garden - Page 180/241

During this time the plumber had been rattling his tools in his basket,

and Mr Solomon turned to him again.

"Ain't you going to try her?" he said. "That well hasn't been open

these two years."

"Oh! she's right enough," said the plumber sourly. "It ain't the first

time I've been down a well."

"But I don't think it's safe," said Mr Solomon. "What do you say?" he

continued, turning to Ike.

"Looks right enough," said Ike, kneeling down and looking into the well.

Then rising, "but I wouldn't go down unless I didn't want to come up no

more."

"Tchah!" ejaculated the plumber; and I knelt down once more to look for

the danger, but could see nothing but the dark whispering hole, with, at

a great depth below, the round disc of light representing the mouth of

the well.

Just then something passed my head and fell down with, after a while, a

strange hollow plash from below.

"That'll do," said Mr Solomon angrily. "No more of that, please."

"You mind your own business, Browny. Anyone would think you were the

master here."

"Master or no, here's Sir Francis coming. Let's see whether he likes

you to be throwing stones down the well."

Mr Solomon uttered a sigh of relief, for, as Sir Francis came along a

neighbouring path, the two lads slowly walked away.

"That's a blessing," he said. "Now we can work in peace. You'll try

her first--won't you, plumber?"

"All right, gardener. What are you scared about?"

Mr Solomon looked at him angrily and then said: "I don't know that I'm scared about you, my man; but I don't want to

risk my life, or to send down one of my men to fetch you out."

The plumber grunted, and I looked on wondering what the danger was, for

I knew nothing then about chemistry or foul gases; and I stared all the

more when the plumber took a ball of thin string from his jacket pocket,

tied the candle with a couple of half hitches, and then struck a match

and lit the wick. Then as soon as it was burning brightly, sheltered by

his hands from the breeze, he stooped down and held it in the well and

then lowered it down.

We stood round watching the candle swing gently and the flame dance as

the plumber slowly unrolled the ball of string.

At first the light looked very pale; but it grew brighter as it left the

sunshine near the mouth of the well and lit up the dark slimy-looking

old bricks, the rusty iron pipe, and the cross pieces of timber, while

far down I could now and then catch sight of the cylinder of the pump as

the candle began to swing now like a pendulum. It was very indistinct,

just gleaming now and then, while the walls glistened, and I realised

more and more what a horrible place it would be for anyone to fall into.