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Every man answered hoarsely, "Ay," and every hand went up. Brengyn's back was on Fellowes, Al'mah, and Jasmine now. There was that which filled the cup of trembling for Al'mah in the way he nodded to the men. "Right, lads," he said with a stern joy in his voice. "But there's only one of you can go, and I'll pick him.
"I am going down, if there's anybody will lead," Stafford replied. "I was brought up in a mining country. I know as much as most of you about mines, and I'll make one to follow you, if you'll lead you've been down, I know." Brengyn's face changed. "Mr. Byng isn't our class, he's with capital," he said, "but he's a man.
"What do you think the chances are?" he asked in a low tone. "Go to bed!" was the gruff reply of the irate peer, to whom cowardice was the worst crime on earth, and who was enraged at being left behind. Also he was furious because so many working-men had responded to Brengyn's call for volunteers and Adrian Fellowes had shown the white feather.
Would Adrian volunteer? Brengyn's look rested on Adrian for an instant, but Adrian's eyes dropped. Brengyn had said one chance in a thousand, and Adrian said to himself that he had never been lucky never in all his life. At games of chance he had always lost. Adrian was for the sure thing always.
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