Inglis Collection of printed music > Printed text > Martin Craghan

8 Martin Crag! um.
came the low, moaning cry, of some creature
in distress.
There was a trampling of heavy feet, a
confused hubbub of voices, and, in a minute,
Martin was in the stream of eager, jostling
men, who strode, in silent, terrible anxiety,
towards the shaft. Thank God ! whatever
had happened in the pit, that was clear still,
and in working order.
Martin might have been among the first
of that dense, awe-struck crowd, but that, at
the frightened cry, he had turned breathlessly
back, to where he had left the laden trucks.
Something that he kissed, with tears in his
pretty eyes, came and rubbed a cold nose
against his hand, and would not leave him.
With resolute, childish hands he put aside
his petted mule ; with unsteady fingers he
dragged the little, tallow dip from the front
of his cap, and stuck it on a ledge of coal.
" Good-bye, dear Brighteyes," he said, " I
have put my little candle so that you need
not be afraid of the dark, but you must wait
for me here. 'His angels He shall give in
charge,' Brighteyes," he said, "over you and
me."
As he ran down the long, dark tunnel, the
light at the farther end kept him in the right
path, and hushed, expectant voices told him
that he was safe still — the shaft was clear.