The Vast Abyss Part 25

"So are you!" yelled Pete. "Yah! Who pulled the--"

_Whack_!

"Ow! ah!" A scramble, and Pete disappeared as an angry voice was heard on the other side of the wall.

"How dare you, sir? Insolent young scoundrel! Be off with you!"

"Don't you hit me!" came in a yelping, snivelling tone. "Don't you hit me! You hit me, and I'll--Get out!"

There was a dull thud, a yell, and the succession of cries uttered by a dog in pain, generally known as "chy-ike." For, unable to vent his spleen upon his aggressor, Pete had turned upon his wretched dog, which was unfortunate enough to get between his master's legs, nearly sending him down as he backed away from a quivering malacca cane. The dog received an awful kick, and ran down the narrow lane, and Pete followed him in a loose-jointed, shambling trot, turned into the pathway between the hedges at the bottom of Uncle Richard's field, thrust his head back, relieved his feelings by yelling out "Yah!" and disappeared.

By this time Tom and his uncle were down at the yard gate, which they threw open, to find themselves face to face with the vicar, a little fresh-coloured, plump, grey man of five-and-forty. His brow was wrinkled with annoyance, and his grey hair and whiskers seemed to bristle, as he changed the stout cane into his left hand, pulled off his right glove, and shook hands.

"Good-morning," he cried; "good-morning--nephew, arn't you? Glad to know you. Only came back last night, Brandon, and the first thing I encounter in my first walk is that young scoundrel insulting you."

"Oh, it's nothing," said Uncle Richard, smiling.

"But it is something, my dear sir. After all the pains I took with that boy at our school--when I could get him there--he turns out like this.

Really," he continued, laughing very good-humouredly, and looking down at his cane, "I ought not to have done it,--not becoming in a clergyman,--but the young dog was insulting you, and he was stretched over the wall so tightly. Really--ha, ha!--it was so tempting that I felt obliged."

"Yes, it must have been tempting," said Uncle Richard. "Well, have you come back quite strong?"

"Seems like it," said the vicar, laughing. Then seriously, "Yes, thank heaven, I feel quite myself again."

"That's good," said Uncle Richard. "I am very glad."

"I know you are. And oh, Brandon, you can't think how glad I am to get back to the dear old place again. My garden looks delightful; and yours?"

"Capital."

"But, my dear fellow, what in the world are you doing with the old mill.

I heard you had bought it. Sails gone, mended, painted. Why, surely-- yes--no--yes, I have it--observatory."

"Right."

"Splendid idea. Capital. You ought to have a big telescope for that."

"Making it," said Uncle Richard laconically.

"Glad of it. Wish I could join you. There, good-bye, so much to do; can't tell me, I suppose, what to do with that lad Pete Warboys?"

Uncle Richard shook his head, and the vicar shook his hand. Then as he went through the same process with Tom, he said--

"Glad to know you; I'm sure we shall be very good friends;" and then he hurried away, and the others closed the gate and went into the workshop, where the speculum was waiting to be ground.

"You'll like Mr Maxted," said Uncle Richard quietly. "A thorough, true-hearted gentleman, who preserves all the best of his boyhood; but come now, work."

"Grinding?" said Tom, stripping off his jacket.

"Not yet--elutriation, Tom," said Uncle Richard, as he led the way up to the laboratory, where the big pan was lifted down upon the stool, and the syphon used to pour the water in the white basin back again.

But not quite all. It was clear now, and at the bottom there was just a film of chocolate mud, which was most carefully trickled off with some of the water into the ready labelled little bottle.

"There, Tom, that tiny spoonful or two of paste is our finest emery, and valuable in the extreme--to us. The next thing is to get a grade coa.r.s.er."

"The same way?" said Tom.

"Nearly. Stir the whole up again."

This was carefully done, but there was no sc.u.m now.

"We left the other sixty minutes, Tom," said Uncle Richard; "this time we'll leave it thirty minutes. Come along; time for two quarter-hour grinds at the speculum."

They went down, wetted the sand, and ground away for fifteen minutes; washed the gla.s.s, started again, and at the end of another fifteen minutes went up to repeat the process of drawing off the thick water into the basin. This was left to stand till evening, when the water was poured back, and about a double quant.i.ty of thin paste to that obtained in the morning placed in a size larger bottle, and labelled "thirty-minute emery."

Again the whole was well stirred, and left for fifteen minutes; the process repeated, and a much larger quant.i.ty obtained and bottled.

The next day the emery was stirred, and allowed to settle for five minutes; then for two minutes, and the remainder bottled by itself, this being by far the largest quant.i.ty, and in fact so much strong sharp grit.

"There!" cried Uncle Richard; "now, going backwards, we have six different grades of material, beginning with the coa.r.s.e, and going up to the fine sixty-minute powder or paste for polis.h.i.+ng, for these things have to be made exquisitely fine."

At the next attack upon the gla.s.s to dig it out into a hollow, the sand was all carefully washed away, showing the disc to be thoroughly scratched all over, and looking somewhat like the inside of a ground-gla.s.s globe.

"So far so good, Tom," said Uncle Richard; "now let's try our mould."

He took down the convex-shaped piece of zinc, and placed it upon the newly-ground-gla.s.s, into whose face it descended a little way, but only a very little.

"Not deep enough yet, Tom," he said; "the mould ought to fit into it exactly."

"Yes, I understand now," said Tom; "we have got to grind more out of the middle."

"Exactly."

"Shall I fetch the sand back?"

"No, we will use the coa.r.s.est emery now; I dare say that will dig out enough. Now then, number one."

The large-stoppered bottle was fetched from its shelf, and a small portion of the most coa.r.s.e ground emery taken out with a spatula, spread upon the fixed gla.s.s, the speculum carefully laid upon it, and turned a little to spread the material more equally, a few drops of water having been added, and the slow, tedious grinding went on again.

"Hard work, my boy," said Uncle Richard, as they paused at last from their laborious work, the disc they moved to and fro and round and round, as they slowly changed their positions, being exceedingly heavy.

But Tom, as soon as he got his breath, was too much interested to mind the labour, and after helping to lift one disc from the other, he looked on eagerly at his uncle's busy fingers, as he carefully sponged and cleaned both gla.s.ses.

"See how the coa.r.s.e emery we began with has become ground down."

"Yes, into a slime," said Tom.

"Partly gla.s.s," said Uncle Richard, as he drew attention now to the face of the speculum, which was scratched more deeply already, and displayed a different grain.