"What are you staring at, Cob?"
It was Uncle Jack who spoke, and Uncle Dick had just come up with him,
to find me in the yard, looking up at the building.
It was dinner-hour, and all the men had gone but Pannell, who was
sitting on a piece of iron out in the yard calmly cutting his bread and
meat into squares and then masticating them as if it were so much
tilt-hammer work that he had to do by the piece.
"I was thinking, Uncle, suppose they were to set fire to us some night,
what should we do?"
"Hah! Yes: not a bad thought," said Uncle Dick sharply. "Pannell!"
"Hillo!" said that gentleman, rising slowly.
"Finish eating your bread and meat as you go, will you, and buy us
twenty-four buckets."
"Fower-and-twenty boockets," said Pannell, speaking with his mouth full.
"What do yow want wi fower-and-twenty boockets?"
"I'll show you this evening," replied my uncle; and, handing the man a
couple of sovereigns, Pannell went off, and both Uncle Jack and I
laughed at the quick way in which Uncle Dick had determined to be
provided for an emergency.
The buckets came, and were run by their handles upon a pole which was
supported upon two great hooks in one of the outhouses against the wall
of the yard, and some of the men noticed them, but the greater part
seemed to pay not the slightest heed to this addition to our defences.
But at leaving time, after a few words from Uncle Dick to Uncle Jack,
the latter stood in the yard as the men came out, and said sharply:
"Four-and-twenty men for a window wash. Who'll help?"
A few months before, such a demand would have been met with a scowl; but
quite a little crowd of the men now stopped, and Pannell said with a
grin:
"Wonder whether there'll be a boocket o' beer efter?"
"Why, of course there will, my lad," cried Uncle Jack, who ranged the
men in order.
"Why, 'tis like being drilled for milishy, mester," said one man, and
there was a roar of laughter as the buckets were passed out of the shed,
and the men were placed in two rows, with Uncle Jack at one end, Uncle
Dick at the other; the two ends resting, as a soldier would say, on the
dam, and on the works.
It was wonderful how a little management and discipline made easy such a
business as this, and I could not help smiling as I saw how my idea had
been acted upon.
There were a few sharp words of command given, and then Uncle Jack
dipped his bucket into the dam from the stone edge where we had bathed
poor Piter, filled it, passed it on to Number 1 of the first row, and
took a bucket from the last man of the second row, to fill. Meanwhile
the first bucket was being passed on from hand to hand through a dozen
pairs when it reached Uncle Dick, who seized it, hurled it up against
the grimy windows of the works, and then passed it to the first man of
the second row.
In a minute or two the men were working like a great machine, the pails
being dipped and running, or rather being swung, from hand to hand till
they reached Uncle Dick, who dashed the water over the windows, and here
and there, while the empty buckets ran back to Uncle Jack.
The men thoroughly enjoyed it, and Pannell shouted that this would be
the way to put out a fire. But my uncles did not take up the idea,
working steadily on, and shifting the line till the whole of the glazed
windows had been sluiced, and a lot of the grit and rubbish washed away
from the sills and places, after which the buckets were again slung in a
row and the men had their beer, said "Good-night!" quite cheerily, and
went away.
"There," said Uncle Dick, "I call that business. How well the lads
worked!"
"Yes," said Uncle Jack with a sigh of content as he wiped his streaming
brow; "we could not have got on with them like that three months ago."
"No," said Uncle Bob, who had been looking on with me, and keeping dry;
"the medicine is working faster and faster; they are beginning to find
us out."
"Yes," said Uncle Dick. "I think we may say it is peace now."
"Don't be in too great a hurry, my boys," said Uncle Jack. "There is a
good deal more to do yet."
It is one of the terrible misfortunes of a town like Arrowfield that
accidents among the work-people are so common. There was an excellent
hospital there, and it was too often called into use by some horror or
another.
It would be a terrible tale to tell of the mishaps that we heard of from
week to week: men burned by hot twining rods; by the falling of masses
of iron or steel that were being forged; by blows of hammers; and above
all in the casting-shops, when glowing fluid metal was poured into some
mould which had not been examined to see whether it was free from water.
Do you know what happens then? Some perhaps do not. The fluid metal
runs into the mould, and in an instant the water is turned into steam,
by whose mighty power the metal is sent flying like a shower, the mould
rent to pieces, and all who are within range are horribly burned.
That steam is a wonderful slave, but what a master! It is kept bound in
strong fetters by those who force its obedience; but woe to those who
give it the opportunity to escape by some neglect of the proper
precautions.
One accident occurred at Arrowfield during the winter which seemed to
give the final touch to my uncles' increasing popularity with the
work-people, and we should have had peace, if it had not been for the
act of a few malicious wretches that took place a month or too later.
It was one evening when we had left the works early with the intention
of having a good long fireside evening, and perhaps a walk out in the
frosty winter night after supper, that as we were going down one of the
busy lanes with its works on either side, we were suddenly arrested by a
deafening report followed by the noise of falling beams and brickwork.
As far as we could judge it was not many hundred yards away, and it
seemed to be succeeded by a terrible silence.
Then there was the rushing of feet, the shouting of men, and a peculiar
odour smote upon our nostrils.
"Gunpowder!" I exclaimed as I thought of our escapes.
"No," said Uncle Dick. "Steam."
"Yes," said Uncle Jack. "Some great boiler has burst. Heaven help the
poor men!"
Following the stream of people we were not long in reaching the gateway
of one of the greatest works in Arrowfield. Everything was in such a
state of confusion that our entrance was not opposed; and in a few
minutes we saw by the light of flaring gas-jets, and of a fire that had
begun to blaze, one of the most terrible scenes of disaster I had ever
witnessed.
The explosion had taken place in the huge boiler-house of the great
iron-works, a wall had been hurled down, part of the iron-beamed roof
was hanging, one great barrel-shaped boiler had been blown yards away as
if it had been a straw, and its fellow, about twenty feet long, was
ripped open and torn at the rivets, just as if the huge plates of iron
of which it was composed were so many postage-stamps torn off and
roughly crumpled in the hand.
There was a great crowd collecting, and voices shouted warning to beware
of the falling roof and walls that were in a crumbling condition. But
these shouts were very little heeded in the presence of the cries and
moans that could be heard amongst the piled-up brickwork. Injured men
were there, and my uncles were among the first to rush in and begin
bearing them out--poor creatures horribly scalded and crushed.
Then there was a cry for picks and shovels--some one was buried; and on
these being brought the men plied them bravely till there was a warning
shout, and the rescue party had only just time to save themselves from a
falling wall which toppled over with a tremendous crash, and sent up a
cloud of dust.
The men rushed in again, though, and in an incredibly short space of
time they had dug and torn away a heap of broken rubbish, beneath which
moans could be heard.
I stood close beside my uncles, as, blackened and covered with dust and
sweat, they toiled away, Uncle Jack being the first to chase away the
horrible feeling of fear that was upon me lest they should be too late.
"Here he is," he cried; and in a few minutes more, standing right down
in a hole, he lifted the poor maimed creature who had been crying for
our help.
There was a tremendous cheer raised here, and the poor fellow was
carried out, while Uncle Dick, who, somehow, seemed to be taking the
lead, held up his hand.
"Hark!" he said.
But there was no sound.
"If there is no living creature here," he said, "we must get out. It is
not safe to work till the roof has been blown down or fallen. If there
is anyone alive, my lads, we must have him out at all risks."
There was a cheer at this, and then, as soon as he could get silence,
Uncle Jack shouted:
"Is anyone here?"
There was a low wailing cry for help far back beyond the ripped-up
boiler, and in what, with tottering wall and hanging roof, was a place
too dangerous to approach.
"Come, lads, we must have him out," cried Uncle Dick; but a gentleman,
who was evidently one of the managers, exclaimed:
"No, it is too dangerous."
"Volunteers!" cried Uncle Dick.
Uncle Jack, Uncle Bob, Pannell, Stevens, and four more men went to his
side, and in the midst of a deathly silence we saw them go softly in and
disappear in the gloom of the great wrecked boiler-house.
Then there was utter silence, out of which Uncle Dick's voice came loud
and clear, but ominously followed by the rattling down of some fragments
of brick.
"Where are you? Try and speak."
A low piteous moan was the reply.
"All right, my lads, down here!" we heard Uncle Jack cry. "No picks--
hands, hands."
"And work gently," cried Uncle Dick.
Then, in the midst of the gloom we could hear the rattling of bricks and
stones, and though we could see nothing we could realise that these
brave men were digging down with their hands to try and get out the
buried stoker.
The flames burned up brightly, casting curious shadows, and though we
could see nothing, lighting the men over their gallant task, while I, as
I gazed in, trying to penetrate the gloom, felt as if I ought to be
there by my uncles' side.
This feeling grew so strong that at last I took a few steps forward, but
only to be seized by a pair of strong arms and brought back.
"Nay, nay, lad," said a voice that I started to hear, for it was
Gentles'; "there's plenty risking their lives theer. Yow stay."
Just then there was a hoarse shriek of terror, a wild yell from the
crowd, for a curious rushing rumble was heard, a dull thud, and another
cloud of dust came rolling out, looking like smoke as it mingled with
the fire.
In the midst of this the men who had been digging in the ruins came
rushing out.
"Part of the roof," cried Uncle Dick, panting, "and the rest's falling.
Are you all here, lads?"
"Ay, all," was answered as they looked from one to the other in the
flickering light.
"Nay, not all," shouted Stevens. "Owd lad Pannell's buried alive. I
see 'un fall."
There was a murmur of horror and a burst of wailing, for now a number of
women had joined the throng.
"Are you hurt?" I cried anxiously.
"Only a few cuts and bruises, Cob," said Uncle Dick. "Now, my lads,
quick. We must have them out."
The men stopped short, and there was a low angry murmur like the
muttering of a coming storm.
"Quick, my lads, quick!"
There was a hoarse cry for help from out of the ruins, and I knew it
must be our poor smith.
"No, sir, stop," cried the gentleman who had before spoken. "I'd dare
anything, but we have sacrificed one life in trying to save others. I
have just been round, and I say that at the least movement of the ruins
the left wall must come down."
There was a loud cry of assent to this, and amongst shouts and a
confused murmur of voices there came out of the gloom that fearful cry
again:
"Help!"
"The wall must fall, men," cried Uncle Dick loudly. "I can't stand and
hear that cry and not go. Once more volunteers."
Half a dozen men started out of the crowd; but the peril was too great.
They shrank back, and I saw my three uncles standing together in the
bright light of the burning building, blackened, bleeding, and in rags.
Then Uncle Dick put out his two hands, and Uncle Jack and Uncle Bob took
them. They stood together for a short minute, and then went towards the
tottering wall.
"Stop!" cried the gentleman. "You must not risk your lives."
For answer Uncle Jack turned his great manly face towards us and waved
his hand.
Then they disappeared in the gloom, and a curious murmur ran along the
great crowd. It was neither sigh, groan, nor cry, but a low hushed
murmur of all these; and once more, as a dead silence fell, we heard
that piteous cry, followed by a hoarse cheer, as if the sufferer had
seen help come.
Then, as we listened in dead silence, the rattling of brickwork came
again, mingled with the fluttering of the flames and the crackle and
roar of burning as the fire leaped up higher and higher from what had
been one of the furnace-holes, and across which a number of rafters and
beams had fallen, and were blazing brightly, to light up the horrible
scene of ruin.
Battle and crash of bricks and beams, and we all knew that my uncles
must be working like giants.
"I daren't go, Mester Jacob," whispered Gentles. "I'd do owt for the
brave lads, but it's death to go. It's death, and I daren't."
All at once, as everyone was listening for the fall of the tottering
wall, some one caught sight of the moving figures, and a deafening cheer
rose up as Uncle Dick appeared carrying the legs and Uncles Jack and Bob
the arms of a man.
They came towards where I was standing, so that I was by when poor
Pannell was laid down, and I went on one knee by his side.
"Much hurt?" I panted.
"Nay, more scared than hurt, lad," he said. "I was buried up to my
neck, and feeling's gone out of my legs."
"Stop now, gentlemen, for heaven's sake!" cried the manager.
"What! And leave a poor fellow we have promised to come back and help!"
cried Uncle Dick with a laugh.
"But it is certain death to go in, gentlemen," cried the manager
passionately. "At the least vibration the roof will fall. I should
feel answerable for your lives. I tell you it is death to go."
"It is moral death to stay away," cried Uncle Dick. "What would you do,
Cob?"
"Go!" I cried proudly, and then I started up panting, almost sobbing,
to try and stop them. "No, no," I cried; "the danger is too great."
I saw them wave their hands in answer to the cheer that rose, and I saw
Pannell wave his with a hoarse "Hooroar!" and then the gloom had
swallowed them up again.
"I lay close to the poor lad," whispered Pannell. "Reg'lar buried
alive. Asked me to kill him out of his misery, he did, as I lay there;
but I said, `howd on, my lad. Them three mesters 'll fetch us out,' and
so they will."
"If the roof don't fall," said a low voice close by me, and the same
voice said, "Lift this poor fellow up and take him to the infirmary."
"Nay, I weant go," cried Pannell, "aw want to stay here and see them
mesters come out."
"Let him rest," said the manager, and upon his asking me I raised
Pannell's head, and let him rest against my chest.
Then amidst the painful silence, and the fluttering and crackling of the
fire, we heard again the rattling of bricks and stones; but it was
mingled with the falling of pieces from the roof. Then there was a
crash and a shriek from the women as a cloud of dust rose, and my heart
seemed to stand still, for I felt that my uncles must have been buried;
but no, the sound of the bricks and stones being dragged out still went
on, and the men gave another cheer.
The manager went round again to the back of the place, and came tearing
back with three or four men shouting loudly:
"Come out! Come out! She's going!"
Then there was a horrible cry, for with a noise like thunder the left
side and part of the roof of the building fell.
The dust was tremendous, and it was some minutes before the crowd could
rush in armed with shovels and picks to dig out the bodies of the brave
men buried.
The murmur was like that of the sea, for every man seemed to be talking
excitedly, and as I knelt there by Pannell I held the poor fellow's
hand, clinging to him now, and too much shocked and unnerved to speak.
"They're killed--they're killed," I groaned.
But as I spoke the words the people seemed to have gone mad; they burst
into such a tremendous cheer, backing away from the ruins, and dividing
as they reached us to make way for my uncles to bear to the side of
Pannell the insensible figure of the man they had saved.
That brave act performed for an utter stranger made the Arrowfield men
talk of my uncles afterwards as being of what they called real grit; and
all through the winter and during the cold spring months everything
prospered wonderfully at the works. We could have had any number of
men, and for some time it was dangerous for my uncles--and let me
modestly say I seemed to share their glory--to go anywhere near a
gathering of the workmen, they were so cheered and hero-worshipped.
But in spite of this good feeling there was no concealing the fact that
a kind of ill-will was fostered against our works on account of the new
inventions and contrivances we had. From whence this ill-will
originated it was impossible to say, but there it was like a smouldering
fire, ready to break forth when the time should come.
"Another threatening letter," Uncle Jack would say, for he generally
attended to post matters.
"Give it to me," said Uncle Bob. "Those letters make the best
pipe-lights, they are so incendiary."
"Shall we take any notice--appeal to the men--advertise a reward for the
sender?"
"No," said Uncle Dick. "With patience we have got the majority of the
workmen with us. We'll show them we trust to them for our defence.
Give me that letter."
Uncle Jack passed the insulting threat, and Uncle Dick gummed it and
stuck it on a sheet of foolscap, and taking four wafers, moistened them
and stuck the foolscap on the office door with, written above it to
order by me in a bold text hand:
"_Cowards' Work_."
and beneath it:
"_To be Treated with the Contempt it Deserves_."
But as time went on the threats received about what would be done if
such and such processes were not given up grew so serious that when Mr
Tomplin was told he said that we ought to put ourselves under the care
of the police.
"No," said Uncle Dick firmly; "we began on the principle of being just
to our workmen, and of showing them that we studied their interests as
well as our own, that we are their friends as well as masters, and that
we want them to be our friends."
"But they will not be," said Mr Tomplin, shaking his head.
"But they are," said Uncle Dick. "What took place when I stuck that
last threat on the door?"
"The men hooted and yelled and spat upon it."
"But was that an honest demonstration?"
"I believe it was."
"Well," said Mr Tomplin, "we shall see. You gentlemen quite upset my
calculations, but I must congratulate you upon the manner in which you
have made your way with the men."
"I wish we could get hold of the scoundrels who send these letters."
"Yes," said Mr Tomplin; "the wire-pullers who make use of the men for
their own ends, and will not let the poor fellows be frank and honest
when they would. They're a fine race of fellows if they are led right,
but too often they are led wrong."
------------------------------------------------------------------------
The days glided on, and as there were no results from these threats we
began to laugh at them when they came, especially as Tom Searby the
watchman also said they were good for pipe-lights, and that was all.
But one night Uncle Dick took it into his head to go down to the works
and see that all was right.
Nothing of the kind had been done before since the watchman came, for
everything went on all right; the place was as it should be, no bands
were touched, and there seemed to be no reason for showing any doubt of
the man; and so Uncle Jack said when Uncle Dick talked of going.
"No, there is no reason," said Uncle Dick; "but I cannot help feeling
that we have been lulling ourselves too much into a feeling of security
about the place. I shall wait till about one o'clock, and then walk
down."
"No, no," said Uncle Jack; "I'm tired. Had a very heavy day, and of
course you cannot go alone."
"Why not?"
"Because we should not let you. Even Cob would insist upon going."
"Of course!" I said. "I had made up my mind to go."
"It's quite right," said Uncle Bob. "We've been remiss. When sentries
are set the superior officers always make a point of going their rounds
to see if they are all right. Go, Dick, and we'll come with you."
Uncle Dick protested, but we had our own way, and about a quarter to one
on a bitter March night we let ourselves out and walked down to the
works.
For my part I would far rather have gone to bed, but after a few minutes
the excitement of the proceeding began to assert itself, and I was
bright and wakeful enough.
We walked quickly and briskly on till we came to the lane by the factory
wall; but instead of turning down we all walked on along the edge of the
dam, which gleamed coldly beneath the frosty stars. It was very full,
for there had been a good deal of rain; and though the air was frosty
there was a suggestion of change and more rain before long.
When we reached the top of the dam we turned and looked back.
Everything was as quiet as could be, and here and there the glow from
the lowered furnace-fires made a faint halo about the dark building, so
quiet and still after the hurry and buzz of the day.
As we went back along the dam the wavelets lapped the stone edge, and
down below on the other side, as well as by the waste sluice, we could
hear the water rushing along towards the lower part of the town, and
onward to the big river that would finally carry it to the sea.
We were very silent, for every one was watching the works, till, as
Uncle Dick and I reached the lane, we stopped short, for I caught his
arm.