"Say his fear, Austin."
"His fear. That I have noticed this it would be vain to deny. But, Mrs.
Hunter, I a.s.sure you he has never given me his confidence upon the subject. Quite the contrary; he has particularly shunned it with me. Of course I can give a very shrewd guess at the cause--he is pressed for money. Times are bad; and when a man of Mr. Hunter"s thoughtful temperament begins to be really anxious on the score of money matters, it shows itself in various ways."
Mrs. Hunter quitted the subject, perhaps partially rea.s.sured; at any rate convinced that no end would be answered by continuing it. "I was mistaken, I suppose," she said, with a sigh. "At least you can tell me, Austin, how business is going on. How will it go on?"
Very grave turned Austin"s face now. This was an open evil--one to be openly met and grappled with; and what his countenance gained in seriousness it lost in annoyance. "I really do not see how it will go on," was his reply, "unless we can get to work soon. I want to speak to Mr. Hunter. Can I see him?"
"He will be in directly. He has not been down to-day yet. But I suppose you will wish to see him in private; I know he and you like to be alone when you talk upon business matters."
At present it was expedient that Mrs. Hunter, at any rate, should not be present, if she was to be spared annoyance; for Mr. Hunter"s affairs were growing ominous. This was chiefly owing to the stoppage of works in process, and partly to the effect of a diminished capital. Austin as yet did not know all the apprehension, for Mr. Hunter contrived to keep some of it from him. That the diminishing of the capital was owing to Gwinn of Ketterford, Austin did know; at least, his surmises amounted to certainty. When a hundred pounds, or perhaps two hundred pounds, mysteriously went out, and Austin was not made acquainted with the money"s destination, he drew his own conclusions.
"Are the men not learning the error of their course yet?" Mrs. Hunter resumed.
"They seem further off learning it than ever. One of them, indeed, came back to-day: Baxendale."
"I felt sure he would be amongst the first to do so. He is a sensible man: how he came to hold out at all, is to me a matter of surprise."
"He told me this morning, when he came and asked to be taken on again, that he wished he never had held out," said Austin. "Mary is none the better for it."
"Mary was here to-day," remarked Mrs. Hunter. "She came to say that she was better, and could do some work if I had any. I fear it is a deceitful improvement. She is terribly thin and wan. No; this state of things must have been bad for her. She looks as if she were half famished."
"She only looks what she is," said Austin.
"Oh, Austin! I should have been so thankful to help her to strengthening food during this scarcity," Mrs. Hunter exclaimed, the tears rising in her eyes. "But I have not dared. You know what Mr. Hunter"s opinion is--that the men have brought it upon themselves, and that, to help their families, only in the least degree, would be encouraging them to hold out, and would tend to prolong the contest. He positively forbade me helping any of them: and I could only obey. I have kept indoors as much as possible; that I might avoid the sight of the distress which I must not relieve. But I ordered Mary a good meal here this morning: Mr.
Hunter did not object to that. Here he is." Mr. Hunter entered, leaning upon Florence. He looked like an old man, rather than one of middle age.
"Baxendale is back, sir," Austin observed, after a few words on business matters had pa.s.sed in an under tone.
"Come to his senses at last, has he?" cried Mr. Hunter.
"That is just what I told him he had done, sir."
"Has he signed the declaration?"
"Of course he has. The men have to do that, you know, sir, before they get any work. He says he wishes he had come back at first."
"So do a good many others, in their hearts," answered Mr. Hunter, significantly. "But they can"t pluck up the courage to acknowledge it."
"The men are most bitter against him--urged on, no doubt, by the Union.
They----"
"Against Baxendale?"
"Against Baxendale. He came to speak to me before breakfast. I gave him the declaration to read and sign, and sent him to work at once. In the course of the morning it had got wind; though Baxendale told me he had given Sam Shuck notice of his intention on Sat.u.r.day night. At dinner time, when Baxendale was quitting the yard, there were, I should say, a couple of hundred men a.s.sembled there----"
"The Daffodil Delight people?" interrupted Mr. Hunter.
"Yes. Our late men chiefly, and a sprinkling of Mr. Henry"s. They were waiting there for Baxendale, and the moment he appeared, the yells, the hisses, the groans, were dreadful. I suspected what it was, and ran out.
But for my doing so, I believe they would have set upon him."
"Mark you, Clay! I will protect my workmen to the very limit of the law.
Let the malcontents lay but a finger upon any one of them, and they shall a.s.suredly be punished to the uttermost," reiterated Mr. Hunter, bringing down his hand forcibly. "What did you do?"
"I spoke to them just as you have now spoken," said Austin. "Their threatenings to the man were terrible. I dared them to lay a finger upon him; I a.s.sured them that the language they were using was punishable.
Had the police been in the way--but the more you want them, the less they are to be seen--I should have handed a few into custody."
"Who were the ringleaders?"--"I can scarcely tell. Ryan, the Irishman, was busy, and so was Jim Dunn; Cheek, also, backed by his wife."
"Oh, you had women also!"
"In plenty," said Austin. "One of them--I think it was Cooper"s wife--roared out a challenge to fight _Mrs._ Baxendale, if her man, Cooper, as she expressed it, was too much of a woman to fight _him_.
There will be bloodshed, I fear, sir, before the thing is over."
"If there is, let they who cause it look to themselves," said Mr.
Hunter, speaking as sternly as he felt. "How did it end?"
"I cleared a pa.s.sage for Baxendale, and they yelled and hooted him home," replied Austin. "I suppose they"d like to take my life, sir," he said to me; "but I think I am only doing right in returning to work. I could not let my family and Mary quite starve." This afternoon all was quiet; Quale told me the men were holding a meeting."
Florence was sitting with her hands clasped, her colour gradually rising. "If they should--set upon Baxendale, and--and injure him!" she breathed.
"Then the law would see what it could do towards getting some of them punished," sternly spoke Mr. Hunter.
"Oh, James!" interposed his wife, her pale cheeks flushing, as the words grated on her ears. "Can nothing be done to prevent it? Prevention is better than cure. Austin, will you not give notice to the police, and tell them to be on the alert?"
"I have done it," answered Austin.
"Papa," said Florence, "have you heard that Robert Darby"s children are ill?--likely to die? They are suffering dreadfully from want. Mary Baxendale said so when she was here this morning."
"I know nothing about Robert Darby or his children," was the uncompromising reply of Mr. Hunter. "If a man sees his children starving before him, and will not work to feed them, he deserves to find them ill. Florence, I see what you mean--you would like to ask me to permit you to send them relief. _I will not._"
Do not judge of Mr. Hunter"s humanity by the words, or deem him an unfeeling man. He was far from that. Had the men been out of work through misfortune, he would have been the first to forward them succour; many and many a time had he done it in cases of sickness. He considered, as did most of the other London masters, that to help the men or their families in any way, would but tend to prolong the dispute.
And there was certainly reason in their argument--if the men wished to feed their children, why did they not work for them?
"Sir," whispered Austin, when he was going, and Mr. Hunter went with him into the hall, "that bill of Lamb"s came back to us to-day, noted."
"No!"--"It did, indeed. I had to take it up."
Mr. Hunter lifted his hands. "This wretched state of things! It will bring on ruin, it will bring on ruin. I heard one of the masters curse the men the other day in his perplexity and anger; there are times when I am tempted to follow his example. Ruin! for my wife and for Florence!"
"Mr. Hunter," exclaimed Austin, greatly agitated, and speaking in the moment"s impulse, "why will you not give me the hope of winning her? I will make her a happy home----"
"Be silent!" sternly interrupted Mr. Hunter. "I have told you that Florence can never be yours. If you cannot put away this unthankful subject, at once and for ever, I must forbid you the house."
"Good night, sir," returned Austin. And he went away, sighing heavily.