Free The Miner’s Girl by Maggie Hope

would,’ Ben said eagerly.
    They went along the pathway through the woods for a while and then Miles headed Marcus off at a tangent, climbing steadily between the trees away from the donkey trail. Ben was loving it but even so he began to get a little worried.
    ‘Eden Hope isn’t this far away,’ he said, turning the top half of his body to look up at Miles. Maybe it was the way he looked up at him with his expression so like Tom’s that finally decided Miles. He had been riding along, unsure what to do as his thoughts strayed to Miss Bertha Porritt and what her reaction would be should she find out he had a by-blow among the pitmen’s women. He could see his chances of becoming a mine-owner fading into the distance, most likely disappearing forever.
    They were approaching the ridge of the hill and he urged Marcus to turn in a semi-circle and ride along thetop. ‘It is a long way round, I agree. But I thought you were enjoying it.’
    ‘By, I am that, mister,’ was Ben’s fervent response. ‘But I have work to do, I have to get the tatie ground turned before the frosts.’ He found this chap hard to fathom, he told himself. He was being too kind for one of his sort and Ben didn’t entirely trust him. Besides, he was feeling guilty about the garden, he’d never finish the potato patch today if he didn’t get a move on. Then what would Merry say?
    ‘Are we not going to Eden Hope, mister?’
    Ben knew every inch of the area – woods, fields and ancient pit-heaps now grassed over with the years – so he knew they were circling round the colliery and were not all that far from Old Pit. In fact they were now close to a ventilation shaft that had once served Jane Pit. It was walled around with stone to a height of perhaps fifteen feet and forming a chimney, for at one time a bonfire would have been burning at the bottom to draw fresh air from the main shaft.
    Miles didn’t answer at once. Instead he reined in Marcus and dismounted before saying, ‘Jump down, lad.’
    ‘I need to get back,’ said Ben. He was feeling strangely reluctant to do what he was told. Besides, Merry would kill him if he spent the whole day out and didn’t finish his work.
    Miles held up his hand imperatively. ‘Give me your hand if you’re scared,’ he said.
    Ben bristled. He was not scared, not in the least. Ignoring the hand he swung his leg over and jumped down to the ground.
    ‘Why did we stop here, mister?’ he asked.
    ‘Oh, just to give the horse a rest,’ said Miles. ‘He’s been carrying two, you know.’
    Marcus began cropping the thin grass, moving towards the edge of the small clearing. They were surrounded by tall trees and at the edge of the clearing bushes and saplings covered the ground. Brambles were climbing over most of them, the leaves turning brown now though huge berries hung in clusters, their weight bending the branches to the ground.
    Ben watched the gent, unsure what he wanted of him. Miles was fingering an old iron ladder, its rungs rusted and thin, although they seemed to be strong enough to take a boy’s weight.
    ‘Would you like to have a look down the shaft?’ he asked Ben.
    Ben looked dubious. The ladder might not be fastened very well to the chimney. Still, it wasn’t so very high, was it?
    ‘I’ll stand behind you if you like,’ said Miles grinning knowingly and Ben knew he was thinking he was scared again. He strode over to the ladder andgrasped the sides, dislodging large particles of rust as he did so.
    ‘There’ll be nowt to see any road,’ he said. ‘It’ll be too dark. I climbed it before, years ago and I couldn’t see a thing.’ He had been only nine or ten, he remembered, and as the day was grey and overcast he couldn’t see beyond a few feet.
    ‘No, lad,’ said Miles. ‘The sun is shining directly on it. You might even be able to see the bottom.’
    Carefully Ben climbed the ladder. It wasn’t so high, only fifteen or sixteen rungs, so there was no danger, though the