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pointed to the two prone figures on the ground.
    “What d’you think you’re going to do with those, eh? Bury ‘em? You know who that is?”
    “Aye. Aye, I recognized him, young Greenbank, that was.”
    “Aye, young Greenbank. Well it’s a certainty he’s got to be that was, as you say, else God help us
    both. Do you understand what I mean?” He had spoken much more quietly, and the
    smaller man
    peered at him through the dappled moonlight, but he gave no answer, he just drooped his chin onto his
    chest and listened as his companion said, “There’s one thing we can thank God for: heavy rain often
    causes bits of landslides in this particular hole in the ground. Now, over with him.”
    “Wh... what?”
    “Well’—the voice was loud in its hissing ‘what shall we do? Leave him here to recover, and the lad an’
    all Get his legs!”
    It took them all their time to lift the body from where it lay across the narrow path and to the edge of the
    quarry. Then with a heave they let go of it and waited, their own bodies bent forward as they peered
    downwards towards the water.
    The sound that came to them now was of a soft thump, then the dislodging of rocks. But the rumbling
    lasted only a matter of seconds.
    They had both turned from the edge of the quarry when the sound of the boy’s choked
    cry and that of
    voices coming from the distance brought them crouching low. Quickly but quietly and
    still crouched, the
    big man moved towards the clearing, and seeing the boy about to scramble away grabbed
    him; then
    holding him as if cradling a baby, he kept his hand tightly over his mouth.
    The voices came nearer but their words were in distinguishable, and became more so as
    they then
    moved further away.
    The boy’s eyes were wide and he was looking up into the face of the man who was
    holding him. It was
    a different face from the one he had seen before, the thin face. This was a big face with heavy black
    brows and a beard, and eyes which looked enormous. He had no hat on his head and his
    hair hung
    down over his ears. It too was black.
    “Quick!” the man hissed back to his companion, and straightening himself up while still keeping his hand
    over the boy’s mouth, he brought his other hand sideways on to the child’s head just
    below his ear. The
    body went limp in his hands, and he carried it to the edge of the quarry and dropped it over. He did not
    wait to hear its fall but, taking two steps to the right of him, he pulled at a sapling that was growing out of
    the side of the quarry, heaving it backwards and forwards. At last he wrenched it from the ground, then
    jumped back to the safety of the path.
    It wasn’t until he felt the ground under him shudder that once more he sprang back, and only just in time,
    for within seconds the loosened earth and rocks were bounding their way down to the
    bottom of the
    quarry. The passers-by, two miners on their way to High Stublick colliery, were on the track leading to
    Kate’s cottage when they heard the distant rumbling, and they stopped for a moment and one said, “You
    listen to that. That’s the quarry talkin’ again. Good job it didn’t speak when we were on its neck, eh?”
    “Aye,” said the other.
    “Could have been nasty. Safer in the pit.” And they both laughed.
    Kate was angry. She had made a part of broth and mixed up some dumplings ready to
    drop into it the
    minute they entered the door, because although the days were warm, the nights could be biting. But the
    twilight passed into darkness and when they didn’t put in an appearance, she imagined
    that Bill Lee had
    been brewing up his own beer again, and this had set their tongues wagging loosely, and there they were
    jabbering away recalling old times, older in Peter’s case, but nevertheless recognizable to both of them.
    But when ten o’clock came, which was far past her bedtime because she went to bed with the fading
    light and rose with the dawning of it, she became vexed.
    She had