"Better and better!" cried Uncle Dick, waving a letter over his head one
morning after the post had come in. "All we have to do is to work away.
Our steel is winning its way more and more in London, and there is
already a greater demand than we can supply."
"It seems funny too," I said. "I went through Norton's works yesterday
with Mr Tomplin, and saw them making steel, and it seemed almost
exactly your way."
"Yes, Cob," said Uncle Dick, "_almost_. It's that trifling little
difference that does it. It is so small that it is almost
imperceptible; but still it is enough to make our steel worth half as
much again as theirs."
"You didn't show them the difference, did you, Cob?" said Uncle Jack,
laughing.
"Why, how could I?"
"Ah! I forgot; you don't know. But never mind, you'll arrive at years
of discretion some day, Cob, and then you will be trusted with the
secret."
"I consider that he could be trusted now," cried Uncle Dick. "I am
quite willing to show him whenever he likes. We make a fresh batch
to-morrow."
"No," I said; "I don't want to be shown yet. I can wait."
"Is that meant sulkily, or is it manly frankness?" said Uncle Jack
sharply.
"Oh, I'll answer that," replied Uncle Dick--"certainly not sulkily."
"I endorse that," said Uncle Bob; and I gave them both a grateful look.
"He shall learn everything we know," said Dick. "It is his right as his
father's son. If we have not shown him sooner it is on account of his
father's interests, and because we felt that a secret that means
property or nothing is rather a weighty one for a lad of his years to
bear. Well, once more, Cob, you will not mind being left?"
"No," I said, "you will not be away many hours. The men will hardly
know that you have gone, and if they were to turn disagreeable I'm sure
Pannell would help me."
"Oh, there's no fear of any open annoyance," said Uncle Jack; "the men
have been remarkably quiet since we caught Master Gentles. By the way,
anyone know how he is?"
"I know," I said. "I've seen Mrs Gentles every day, and he leaves the
infirmary to-morrow."
"Cured?"
"Yes; only he will walk a little lame, that's all, and only for a month
or two."
"Well, take care of the place, Cob," said Uncle Jack. "I don't suppose
the men will interfere with you, but if they do you can retreat."
"If you thought they would interfere with me," I said, "you would not
go."
They all laughed, and, as we had arranged, they left the works one by
one, and I went on just as usual, looking in at one place, and then
another, to see how the men were going on, before returning to the
office and copying some letters left for me to do.
It was a month since the adventure with the trap, and to see the men no
one could have imagined that there was the slightest discontent among
them.
Pannell had said very little, though I had expected he would; in fact he
seemed to have turned rather surly and distant to me. As for the other
men, they did their work in their regular independent style, and I had
come to the conclusion that my best way was to treat all alike, and not
make special friends, especially after the melancholy mistake I had made
in putting most faith in one who was the greatest scoundrel in the
place.
My uncles had gone to the next town to meet a firm of manufacturers who
had been making overtures that seemed likely to be profitable, and this
day had been appointed for the meeting.
After a time I went into Pannell's smithy, to find him hammering away as
earnestly as ever, with his forehead covered with dew, his throat open,
and his shirt-sleeves rolled up, so as to give his great muscles full
play.
"Well," he said all at once, "want another trap?"
"No," I said, smiling. "I say, Pannell, what did the men think about
it?"
He opened his lips to speak, but closed them directly.
"No," he said shortly; "won't do. I'm on t'other side, you see."
"But you might tell me that," I cried. "I say, I should as soon have
thought of catching you as old Gentles."
"Hush! Say rat," he whispered. "Don't name names. And say, lad, don't
talk about it. You don't want to get me knocked on the head?"
"No, Pannell," I said; "indeed I don't. You're too good a fellow."
"Nay, I'm not," he said, shaking his head. "I'm a downright bad un."
"Not you."
"Ay, but I am--reg'lar down bad un."
"What have you been doing?"
"Nowt," he said; and he brought down his hammer with a tremendous bang
as if he meant to make a full stop at the end of his sentence.
"Then why are you a bad one?"
He looked at me, then out of the window, then front the door, and then
back at me.
"I'm going to Lunnon to get work," he said.
"No, don't; we like you--you're such a good steady workman. Why are you
going?"
"Don't like it," he said. "Man can't do as he pleases."
"Uncle John says he can't anywhere, and the masters are the men's
servants here."
"Nay, lad," he whispered as he hammered away. "Men's worse off than the
masters. Wuckman here hev to do what the trade tells him, or he'd soon
find out what was what. Man daren't speak."
"For fear of getting into trouble with his mates?"
"Nay, his mates wouldn't speak. It's the trade; hish!"
He hammered away for some time, and his skill with his hammer fascinated
me so that I stopped on watching him. A hammer to me had always seemed
to be a tool to strike straightforward blows; but Pannell's hammer
moulded and shaped, and always seemed to fall exactly right, so that a
piece of steel grew into form. And I believe he could have turned out
of the glowing metal anything of which a model had been put before his
eyes.
"Well," I said, "I must go to my writing."
"Nay, stop a bit. We two ain't said much lately. They all gone to
Kedham?"
"Yes; how did you know?"
"Oh, we knows a deal. There aren't much goes on as we don't know. Look
ye here; I want to say summat, lad, and I can't--yes, I can."
"Well, say it, then," I said, smiling at his eagerness.
"Going to--look here, there was a rat once as got his leg caught in a
trap."
"Yes, I know there was," I replied with a laugh.
"Nay, it's nowt to laugh at, lad. Rats has sharp teeth; and that there
rat--a fat smooth rat he were--he said he'd bite him as set that trap."
"Pannell!" I cried, as a curious feeling of dread came over me for a
moment and then passed away.
"Ay, lad."
"You don't mean to say that?"
"Me!--I mean to say! Nay, lad, not me. I never said nothing. 'Tain't
likely!"
I looked at him searchingly, but his face seemed to turn as hard as the
steel he hammered; and finding that he would not say any more, I left
him, to go thoughtfully back to my desk and try to write.
But who could write situated as I was--left alone with about thirty
workmen in the place, any one of whom might be set to do the biting in
revenge for the trap-setting? For there was no misunderstanding
Pannell's words; they were meant as a sort of warning for me. And now
what was I to do?
I wished my uncles had not gone or that they had taken me, and I nearly
made up my mind to go for a walk or run back home.
But it seemed so cowardly. It was not likely that anyone would touch me
there, though the knowledge the men evidently had of their masters'
movements was rather startling; and I grew minute by minute more
nervous.
"What a coward I am!" I said to myself as I began writing, but stopped
to listen directly, for I heard an unusual humming down in the grinders'
shop; but it ceased directly, and I heard the wheel-pit door close.
"Something loose in the gear of the great wheel, perhaps," I thought;
and I went on writing.
All at once the idea came upon me. Suppose they were to try and blow me
up!
I slipped off my stool and examined all the papers beneath my desk and
in the waste-paper basket, and then I felt so utterly ashamed that I
forced myself back into my seat and tried to go on writing.
But it was impossible. The day was bright and sunny and the water in
the dam was dancing and glittering, for the wind was off the hills and
blew the smoke in the other direction--over the town. There was a great
patch of dancing light on the ceiling reflected from the dam, and some
flowers in the window looked bright and sent out a sweet perfume; but I
could see nothing but men crawling in the dark with powder-cans and
fuses; and to make myself worse, I must go to Uncle Jack's cupboard and
look at the can that we had found by Gentles that night, just as it had
been picked up, with a long fuse hanging out of the neck and twisted
round and round.
I went back after locking it up and taking out the key, and after
opening the window I stood looking out to calm myself, wishing the while
that I was right away among the hills far from the noise of whirring
stones and shrieking metal. I knew the sun was shining there, and the
grass was green, and the view was spread out for miles; while from where
I stood there were the great black buildings, the tall shafts, and close
beneath me the dam which, in spite of the sunshine, suggested nothing
but men coming down from the head on rafts of wood to work some
mischief.
The situation became intolerable; I could not write; I could not get
calm by walking up and down; and every time there was a louder noise
than usual from the upper or lower workshop I started, and the
perspiration came out upon my face.
What a coward! You will say.
Perhaps so; but a boy cannot go through such adventures as fell to my
lot and not have some trace left behind.
I stood at last in the middle of the little office, and thought of what
would be the best thing to do.
Should I run away?
No; that would be too cowardly.
I came to the right conclusion, I am sure, for I decided to go and face
the danger, if there was any; for I said to myself, "Better to see it
coming than to be taken unawares."
Now, please, don't think me conceited. In place of being conceited, I
want to set down modestly and truthfully the adventures that befell me
while my lot was cast among a number of misguided men who, bound
together in what they considered a war against their masters, were
forced by their leaders into the performance of deeds quite opposed to
their ordinary nature. It was a mad and foolish combination as then
conducted, and injured instead of benefiting their class.
Urged by my nervous dread of coming danger, I, as I have said,
determined to see it if I could, and so be prepared; and in this spirit
I put as bold a face on the matter as possible, and went down the long
workshop where the men were grinding and working over the
polishing-wheels, which flew round and put such a wonderful gloss upon a
piece of metal.
Then I went down and into the furnace-house, where the fires were
glowing, and through the chinks the blinding glare of the blast-fed
flame seemed to flash and cut the gloom.
The men there gave me a civil nod, and so did the two smiths who were
forging knives, while, when I went next into Pannell's smithy, feeling
all the more confident for having made up my mind to action, the big
fellow stared at me.
"Yow here agen?" he said.
"Yes."
"Well, don't stay, lad; and if I was you I should keep out of wet
grinders' shop."
"Why?" I said.
He banged a piece of steel upon his anvil, and the only answers I could
get from him were raps of the hammer upon the metal; so I soon left him,
feeling highly indignant with his treatment, and walked straight to his
window, stepped up on the bench, and looked down, wondering whether it
would be any good to fish from there.
The water after some hours' working was much lower, so that a ledge
about nine inches wide was laid bare and offered itself as a convenient
resting-place; but I thought I would not fish while my uncles were away,
especially since they had left me in charge.
So I walked right to the very place I had been warned to avoid, and
found the men as busy as usual, and ready enough to say a few civil
words.
And so the afternoon wore away, and telling myself that I had been
scared at shadows, I felt a great deal more confident by tea-time when
the men were leaving.
I sat in the office then as important as if I were the master, and
listened to their leaving and crossing the yard. I could hear them
talking to the gate-keeper, and then I fancied I heard a rustling noise
outside the building, but it was not repeated, and I began listening to
the last men going, and soon after, according to his custom, old Dunning
the gate-keeper came to bring his key.
I heard the old fellow's halting step on the stairs, and trying to look
very firm I answered his tap with a loud and important "Come in!"
"All gone, Mester Jacob, sir," he said. "I s'pose you'll tek a look
round?"
"Yes; I'll do that, Dunning," I replied.
"Then, good-night, sir!"
"One moment, Dunning," I cried, as he turned to go. "I know you don't
mix with the quarrels between masters and men."
"Not I, Mester Jacob. I just do my bit o' work here, which just suits
me, being a worn-out sort o' man, and then goes back home to my tea and
my garden. You've nivver seen my bit o' garden, Mester Jacob, sir. You
must come."
"To be sure I will, Dunning; but tell me, how do the men seem now?"
"Bit tired, sir. End o' the day's wuck."
"No, no; I mean as to temper. Do you think they are settling down?"
"O ay; yes, sir. They'd be quiet enew if the trade would let 'em
alone."
"No threats or anything of that sort?"
"Well, you see, sir, I've no right to say a word," he replied, sinking
his voice. "If they thought I was a talker, mebbe they'd be falling
upon me wi' sticks; but you've always been a kind and civil young
gentleman to me, so I will tell you as Gentles says he means to pay you
when he gets a chance."
"Then I must keep out of Mr Gentles's way," I said, laughing outside,
for I felt very serious in.
"Ay, but that arn't it, Mester Jacob, sir," said old Dunning, to make me
more comfortable. "You see, sir, you nivver know where to hev a man
like that. He might hit at you wi' his own fisty, but it's more'n
likely as he'll do it wi' some one else's, or wi' a clog or a knobstick.
You can nivver tell. Good-night, Mester Jacob, sir. Keep a sharp
look-out, sir, and so will I, for I shouldn't like to see a nice
well-spoken young gentleman like you spoiled."
I followed Dunning down to the gate, and turned the key after him,
feeling horribly alarmed.
Spoiled--not like to see a boy like me spoiled. What did spoiling mean?
I shuddered at the thought, and though for a moment I thought of
rushing out and getting home as quickly as I could, there was a sort of
fear upon me that a party of men might be waiting at one of the corners
ready to shoot me.
"I must wait a bit, and get cool," I said; and then looking about me, I
shivered, for the great works looked strange and deserted, there was a
horrible stillness in the place, and I had never felt so lonely and
unpleasantly impressed even when watching in the middle of the night.
Just then there was a whine and a bark, and Piter gave his chain a jerk.
There was society for me at all events, and, going to the kennel, I
unhooked the spring swivel and set the dog free, when, as usual, he
showed his pleasure by butting his great head at me and trying to force
it between my legs.
I was used to it and knew how to act, but with a stranger it would have
been awkward and meant sitting down heavily upon the dog unless he
leaped out of the way.
Of course I did not sit down on Piter, but lifted a leg over him, and as
soon as he had become steady made a sort of inspection of the place to
see that nothing was wrong, feeling that it was a sort of duty to do, as
I was left alone.
Piter kept close to me, rubbing my leg with one ear as we went all over
the place, and as I found no powder-cans and fuses, no bottles full of
fulminating silver, or any other deadly implement, my spirits rose and I
began to laugh at myself for my folly.
There was only the lower workshop with its grindstones to look through,
and lit up as it was by the evening sun there did not seem to be
anything very terrible there. The floor was wet, and the stones and
their frames and bands cast broad shadows across the place and on the
opposite wall, but nothing seemed to be wrong, only I could hear the
hollow echoing plash of the water falling from the wheel sluice down
into the stone-walled pit.
There was nothing new in this, only that it seemed a little plainer than
usual, and as I looked I saw that the door had been left open.
That was nothing particular, but I went on to close it, not being able
to see the bottom, the view being cut off by a great solid bench in the
middle of the floor. On passing round this, though, I saw that there
was something wrong; two or three bands had gone from as many
grindstones, and had evidently been hastily thrown into the wheel-pit,
whoever had done this having left one on the floor, half in and half
out, and keeping the door from shutting close.
"That couldn't be Gentles," I said aloud as I threw back the door, and
my words echoed in the great black place, where the sunlight was cutting
the shadow in a series of nearly horizontal rays as it came in past the
wheel.
I could see at a glance the amount of the mischief done: one band was
evidently down in the water, and hung hitched in some way on to the band
upon the floor. It had been intended to be dragged in as well, but it
had caught against the iron of the rail that surrounded the bracket-like
platform the width of the door and projecting over the water, which was
ten feet below.
I recalled standing upon it to catch eels, when I contrived to catch the
lost bands as well, and thinking that perhaps after all there were
several of the straps sunken below me, I stooped down, took hold of the
band, and pulled.
It would not come, being caught somehow at the edge of the platform; so
gathering it closely in my hands rather unwillingly, for it was a wet
oily affair, I stepped on to the platform, uttered a shriek, and fell
with a tremendous splash into the water below. I felt the platform give
way, dropping at once from beneath my feet, and though I snatched at it
my hands glided over the boards in an instant and I was down amidst a
tangle of bands in the deep black water.