e that it is
better to make one man's life happy than to cling for ever to the
remembrance of another. At any rate you will always think of me as your
true friend, Nelly, always trust me?"

"Always, Harry, in the future more than lately, for I have seen this
coming. Now that we understand each other we can be quite friends
again."

CHAPTER XXIII.

THE EXPLOSION AT THE VAUGHAN.

At twelve o'clock on a bright summer day Mr. Brook drove up in his
dog-cart, with two gentlemen, to the Vaughan mine. One was the
government inspector of the district; the other, a newly-appointed
deputy inspector, whom he was taking his rounds with him, to instruct in
his duties.

"I am very sorry that Thompson, my manager, is away to-day," Mr. Brook
said as they alighted. "Had I known you were coming I would of course
have had him in readiness to go round with you. Is Williams, the
underground manager, in the pit?" he asked the bankman, whose duty it
was to look after the ascending and descending cage.

"No, sir; he came up about half an hour ago. Watkins, the viewer, is
below."

"He must do, then," Mr. Brook said, "but I wish Mr. Thompson had been
here. Perhaps you would like to look at the plan of the pit before you
go down? Is Williams's office open?"

"Yes, sir," the bankman answered.

Mr. Brook led the way into the office.

"Hullo!" he said, seeing a young man at work making a copy of a mining
plan; "who are you?"

The young man rose--

"Jack Simpson, sir. I work below, but when it's my night-shift Mr.
Williams allows me to help him here by day."

"Ah! I remember you now," Mr. Brook said. "Let me see what you are
doing. That's a creditable piece of work for a working collier, is it
not?" he said, holding up a beautifully executed plan.

Mr. Hardinge looked with surprise at the draughtsman, a young man of
some one or two-and-twenty, with a frank, open, pleasant face.

"Why, you don't look or talk like a miner," he said.

"Mr. Merton, the schoolmaster here, was kind enough to take a great deal
of pains with me, sir."

"Have you been doing this sort of work long?" Mr. Hardinge asked,
pointing to the plan.

"About three or four years," Mr. Brook said promptly.

Jack looked immensely surprised.

Mr. Brook smiled.

"I noticed an extraordinary change in Williams's reports, both in the
handwriting and expression. Now I understand it. You work the same stall
as Haden, do you not?"

"Yes, sir, but not the same