by Brian Smith
The colliery that Anthony and Edward were taken to belonged to Sir William Marmaduke Mottershead, the father of the late Sir Percy who was murdered in London. Sir William knew nothing about the colliery or about any of the other industries he derived much of his wealth from. If the truth be said, he didn’t care. The only thing that mattered to him was that he had sufficient revenue to pay for his own extravagant lifestyle and that of his family. He had to pay for his wife’s expensive fur coats, silk dresses and boxes full of gold and diamonds. He paid for his own gambling expenses. And he paid for his children’s wasteful lifestyles, including Sir Percy’s collection of antiques. Sir Percy’s carefree life had been paid for with the misery of untold others who slaved away day and night in his father’s collieries and estates. Sir Percy had always taken his family’s wealth for granted. He had never enquired where their money came from.
When they arrived at the colliery the children were freed from their gags and the ropes that had held them on their journey to hell. They cried but there was no one to hear them, no one but the pitiless and cruel men who forced them into the dark tunnels. The children had a simple choice: they could do as they were told and they would get food to eat and a little corner on the ground to sleep on. Or they could be difficult. Then there would be no food. All they would get was a beating with a stick.
No one refused to work in the ghastly tunnels of the mine.
Edward and Anthony were given a cart to push.
The cart was heavy when it was full of coal.
“I hate this!” Anthony whimpered to his brother. He was pushing a heavy cart full of coal uphill.
“I know,” Edward said. He was pulling with all his might and main. He knew that if he let go of the cart it would roll down and crush his little brother. He was thinking furiously. The conditions in the mine were horrific. Every day they were forced to toil meant another day where one of the many dangers might kill them. What could they do? There were many children in the mine. But they were weak and tired. Day by day they were so exhausted they barely managed to eat the disgusting food they were given before they fell asleep on some filthy hay that covered the floor of the prison cell they were locked up in every night. Their guards were rough, cruel men who didn’t hesitate to hit or kick the children or even worse.
What hope did they have of escape?
Many of the children were so horrified by the condition they were in that they didn’t know whether they wanted to eat or die.
Sometimes Edward and Anthony felt the same. They were cold, hungry and utterly exhausted. Every part of their body hurt. Their life was dark. There was no hope of escape.
“Better to die than to live,” some poor, wretched children said.
In their utter exhaustion and desperation a word kept Edward clinging to life. A long time ago it seemed, in another life, when he had learned Latin he read the words ‘Dum spiro, spero!’ which in English meant ‘As long as there’s life, there’s hope.’
Hope!
It was all they had. Things couldn’t become any worse, yet there was always hope that something, somehow would become better.
As the days went by the children became more despondent and exhausted, only Edward and Anthony were always on the lookout for an opportunity. They worked for more than fourteen hours every day, then they left the mine and were locked into a room that had windows looking out onto the countryside. There were iron bars on the windows to prevent anyone from escaping, and what was more, there was a sheer drop of some twenty feet outside the window to the ground.
One evening when they came back from another exhausting day at work, Anthony sat down on the floor next to Edward and whispered into his ear.
“Look what I found today.”
Edward couldn’t really look as it was dark outside and they never had a light in the room, but Anthony put the object in Edward’s hand for him to feel. It was a metal file.
“We can file through the iron bars with this and escape,” Anthony whispered.
“What’s the use?” Edward asked. “It’s too far down to jump. We’d get killed if we tried and we’ve got nothing to climb down.”
Anthony thought about this. The only other way out was through the door.
“Maybe,” he said and thought hard, “maybe we can use the file to trick the guards.”
“But how?” Edward whispered into the darkness.
The other children in the room were all asleep already and he felt so terribly tired he wished Anthony would leave him alone so he could also sleep.
“Well,” Anthony said, “if we cut through an iron bar with the file and remove it, and then we tie a cloth round another bar and let it hang outside so it looks like we made a rope to climb down, then the guards would think we managed to escape.”
“So?” Edward said. He understood that Anthony was on to something though he couldn’t understand what it was.
“So,” Anthony went on, “when the guard in the morning opens the door he’ll see the cut bar on the window and run across to investigate…”
“And then we can run out through the open door,” Edward said.
The following nights they spent as much time as they could filing away at the iron bar in the middle of a window that was directly opposite the door to the room. It was hard work especially after they had toiled away all day already, but hope kept them going. While they worked on the bar they thought about the best way to get out of the room and gradually developed a cunning plan. Every night the cut in the iron bar became deeper and bigger. When they finished filing on it each night they made some dirt wet with their saliva and pushed it into the gap so that it would not be discovered by anyone. The iron bar was thick, their hands and arms were weak and they only had a short time each night so it was almost a fortnight till they managed to file through the bar at the top and the bottom. Yet then, the great moment arrived.
“Yes!” Edward whispered excitedly. “It’s come out.”
He held the iron bar with both his hands to make sure it didn’t fall down and alert the guards with a loud noise. He stepped away from the window and Anthony tied a cloth round another bar and let it hang down outside to give the impression that there was a rope which someone had used to climb down.
Then the brothers waited for dawn.
At the first light of dawn a guard unlocked the door to their room and swung it back. He stepped in to wake up the tired children like he did every other day, but gasped when he spotted the missing iron bar in the window. He couldn’t believe his eyes! Some children had escaped! He made another step towards the window. At that moment Edward came from behind the door and hit the guard with the iron bar on the back of his head as hard as he could. The man fell to the ground.
“Is he dead?” Anthony whispered.
Edward checked the man’s pulse and could feel his heart beating.
He shook his head. “Let’s wake the other kids. We must get out before the other guards realize what’s going on!”
6
After leaving Mr. Hyde’s house Sherlock Holmes took Dr. Watson and Mr. Waverly to the only pub in the village. They had a hearty meal and Holmes found out a good deal about the illegal slave trade of children from Mr. Waverly. The more they heard, the more disgusted and angry both Holmes and Watson became and they resolved to do their utmost to bring the evil child slavers to justice.
“You know, Holmes,” Dr. Watson said, “I remember you once told me that a village pub is the best place to find out about what is happening in the area.”
Holmes smiled. “Excellent, Watson. And what have you learnt so far since we came in here?”
“I can’t say I’ve found out anything,” Dr. Watson replied.
“Now, now, Watson, you disappoint me,” Holmes said.
Waverly looked thoughtful. “This place doesn’t feel right,” he said. “Something’s wrong here.”
“There we have it, Watson. Even Mr. Waverly has noticed that something is not as it ought to be here. Come on n
ow, Watson. You must try harder.”
Dr. Watson looked around the pub. He had felt that something was different from the moment they had arrived, yet he had not been able to explain it.
“I have it,” he said suddenly. “Everyone here’s talking very quietly and nobody’s sitting near us.”
“And what can we deduce from that?” Holmes asked.
“That we’re not welcome here,” Mr. Waverly said quickly.
“And that people here know about the child trade,” Watson added.
Holmes clapped his hands. “Now all that’s left to do is to test our theory and see if we can find out something useful. Do keep that revolver of yours handy, Watson. We may yet need it.”
Sherlock Holmes stood up and walked across to the landlord where he started a conversation. He spoke loudly to ensure everyone in the pub could hear what he was saying.
“…and I’ve heard that sometimes poor children from London come to this village where a rich benefactor is giving them a new life.” Holmes said.
The landlord didn’t look at Holmes. “I know nothing about that,” he said.
There was total silence in the pub.
Holmes questioned the landlord further when a man stood up from one of the tables and walked to Sherlock Holmes.
“You heard what the landlord said!” he barked out rudely.
Holmes turned round to face a rather rough looking and almost brutish fellow.
“And what’s more,” the man said, “the village doesn’t want you and your questions. Go back to where you came from.”
“This is a free country and…” Holmes said.
The man struck him with the back of his hand and Holmes staggered backwards.
Two seconds later Sherlock Holmes had regained his balance. He faced his attacker with both his hands clenched into tight fists held protectively in front of himself. He took a step forward and hit the man.
There was a cracking sound as Holmes fist collided with the man’s jaw. Then the man collapsed.
There was stunned silence in the pub.
Dr. Watson quickly came and examined the man.
“You’ve knocked him out, Holmes,” he said.
Suddenly everyone in the pub cheered loudly.
Sherlock Holmes looked surprised.
“You needn’t be surprised, Mr. Holmes,” the landlord said. “That man you just knocked out is Mr. Hyde’s right hand man. His name’s Brute Beastly and there’s nothing that goes on here without him being involved. We all know about those poor kids.”
“So why didn’t you do something about it?” Dr. Watson asked in outrage.
The landlord shook his head. “You don’t understand. No one here dares cross Mr. Hyde. There have been those who tried and Brute Beastly sorted them out alright. They were never seen again.”
“Aye,” someone called. “Even Constable Chandler.”
Holmes looked incredulous. “You mean to say that Hyde got away with murdering a police constable?”
The landlord nodded. “Constable Chandler arrested one of Hyde’s men. He vanished the same day.”
“This is a most serious matter,” Holmes said, “more serious than I thought at first.
“What are you going to do?” the landlord asked.
Holmes looked him in the eye. “Tell me everything you know and I’ll make sure those people will never bother your village again.”
7
Anthony and Edward quietly woke up all the children in the room. There were eighty-eight children in all. They tied up and gagged the man on the floor, took his keys and then left the room quietly with Edward and Anthony leading the way. They filed along a corridor and then crept down the stairs. If they wanted to escape they had to get to ground level and find an exit that led towards the outside world, not the one to the coal mine. When they reached the bottom of the stairs they suddenly heard voices. Some men were talking in another room.
“We need weapons,” Edward said.
“We can use the mining tools,” Anthony suggested.
“Good idea,” Edward said. “Let’s just get them like every morning and no one will suspect anything. Quick now before anyone comes.”
The children hurried past the door the voices were coming from towards a hall where all their tools were stored every evening. They quickly grabbed the hammers, pickaxes and metal bars they worked with every day. Suddenly they felt a lot stronger. None of the men who had enslaved them for so long were around and the feel of hard iron in their hands made some of the children overconfident.
“We’re free!” they cheered.
“Quiet!” Edward hissed at them, but it was too late.
The men in the room stopped talking and moments later the door opened and three men came out to see what was going on. When they saw the children without a guard, when they saw the look of happiness on the children’s faces, they immediately guessed that there was a rebellion.
“Alarm!” one of the men shouted.
“Get them!” Anthony yelled.
The children rushed at the men with their tools and began hacking and hitting them furiously. The men quickly withdrew into the room they had just come from and locked the door from inside.
Edward was furious with the silly children who had alerted the men, yet he knew that there was no time for recriminations. They had to act quickly and decisively if they wanted to have any chance of escape.
“Right,” he said loudly, “no need to be quiet anymore. Let’s make a run for it.”
“But run where?” Anthony asked.
“If the coal mine is on this side of the building then the way out of here must be on the other side. Let’s run and fight if we have to. Follow me, everyone!” Edward shouted and ran ahead.
The little army of children followed Edward without a moment’s hesitation. For the first time in years they had hope. Here was someone who could get them out of the nightmare they were in. Edward was their leader. They would follow him anywhere, without question.
Edward and Anthony ran through the building with their little army. It didn’t take long till they reached the outer door. They drew back a heavy bolt, turned the key in the lock and pulled the door open.
Freedom!
Across a narrow drive were green bushes and green trees and beyond lay green fields. The green was like magic for the children. Some of them hadn’t seen anything green for years.
For a moment they stood in the open doorway. They stepped across the threshold and began to cheer. They had made it. Freedom was theirs.
Bang! A shot rang out and a bullet hit the wall next to Edward.
The cheering stopped.
Another shot was fired and a boy screamed. He had been hit in the leg and bright red blood ran down to his foot.
Several men with rifles and shotguns emerged from behind the bushes opposite the building. They aimed at the children.
“Quick, get back in!” Edward yelled.
They withdrew into the building and slammed the door shut.
“What can we do?” one of them said.
There was nothing they could do against men with guns and the downcast looks on their faces showed just how desperate their situation had become.
“Let’s find another way out,” Edward said, “a door, a window, anything.”
There was loud banging against the front door.
“Open up!” a man shouted outside. “Open up now or you’ll pay for it!”
“No time to lose,” Anthony said.
Without further ado the children ran from room to room, yet wherever they went windows were barred. There was no other exit from the building.
“Let’s break through the iron bars,” someone said.
The banging against the front door became stronger and there was the sound of splintering wood.
“The door’s about to break,” Edward said. “Let’s…”
“Hide in the mine!” a boy shouted in fear.
“No” Wait,” Edward called, but it was t
oo late. The children rushed towards the coal mine. It was the one place they knew where they would be safe. The men never followed them down into the low, narrow mineshafts. The moment they reached the entrance to the mineshafts they heard a loud crashing noise coming from the house where the men had finally managed to break down the front door.
Full of fear the children descended deeper and deeper into the mine until they reached a slightly larger room. They couldn’t hear anyone following them, so they sat down.
“What do we do now?” a boy asked.
“Yes,” some others said, “what can we do?”
There was no answer.
“Edward!” they called. “Why don’t you answer?”
When there was still no reply the children began to search for Edward and Anthony in the dark. They felt each others faces and questioned everyone until they were sure of one thing: Edward and Anthony were not there.
8
When Sherlock Holmes, Dr. Watson and Mr. Waverly realized just how dangerous the criminals were they decided to take immediate action. Mr. Waverly got on his bicycle with the intention of cycling to a branch of the Society against Slavery in a nearby town, while Holmes wanted to go back to London. The railway station lay in the same direction Mr. Waverly had taken and so they watched him ride along the road. After a few minutes he disappeared around a corner. There was a loud bang.
“A shot, Holmes!” Watson said.
It had come from where they had seen Waverly vanish just moments before. They ran as fast as they could.
They found Mr. Waverly lying on his back. Dr. Watson examined him briefly.
“He’s dead, Holmes.”
Dr. Watson took out his revolver. They looked around but couldn’t see anyone.
“We have to keep going,” Holmes said. “We’ll send a telegram at the station. The local constabulary will take care of this. We have more urgent matters at hand.”
Dr. Watson looked shocked. “Holmes,” he remonstrated. “How can you be so unfeeling? Mr. Waverly…”
“…is dead,” Holmes said. “Our task is to save the living and stop those villains before they harm anyone else.”
There was nothing Dr. Watson could say and so they hurried to the railway station.
As soon as they arrived in London Dr. Watson took a cab to Scotland Yard with an urgent note from Holmes for Inspector Lestrade. The horse rode off at top speed. When they arrived at the Yard there were tumultuous scenes in the street where people were rushing about shouting angrily.