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Patience Wins; or, War in the Works, a novel by George Manville Fenn |
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Chapter 22. Stevens Has A Word With Me |
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_ CHAPTER TWENTY TWO. STEVENS HAS A WORD WITH ME Next morning I went down to the works, feeling as if I had grown in one night a year older, and after giving Piter the bones I always took him down, and receiving the ram-like butt he always favoured me with to show his gratitude, I was going round the place, when I heard a familiar clinking and saw a glow out of the little smithy that had for some time been cold. I ran in, and there, looking rather pale and with a bit or two of sticking-plaster about his temples, was Pannell hammering away as if he were trying to make up for lost time. "Why, Pannell, old man," I cried, running in with outstretched hand, "back again at work! I am glad to see you." He looked up at me with a scowl, and wiped his brow with the arm that was terminated by a fist and hammer--a way, I have observed, much affected by smiths. His was not a pleasant face, and it was made more repulsive by the scars and sticking-plaster. As our eyes met it almost seemed as if he were going to strike me with his hammer; but he threw it down, gave his great hand a rub back and front upon his apron, probably to make it a little blacker, and then gripped mine as badly as Uncle Jack had on the previous night. In fact, you see, I suffered for people liking me. "Are you glad, mun?" he said at last hoarsely; "are you glad? Well that's cheering anyhow, and thank ye." He nodded and went on with his work again while I went to mine about the books, but with a suspicious feeling of impending trouble on my mind, as I passed two of the men who saw me come out of the smithy, and who must have seen me shaking hands with Pannell. I don't know why they should have minded, for I should have done the same with either of them had we been on as friendly terms. As I entered my little office my eyes lit on the common fishing-rod I had used, and that set me thinking about the conversation I had heard as I stood on the ledge. I recalled what had been said overnight in a long discussion with my uncles, and the advice they had given. "Don't show suspicion," Uncle Dick had said, "but meet every man with a frank fearless look in the eye, as if you asked no favour of him, were not afraid of him, and as if you wanted to meet him in a straightforward way." I thought a good deal about it all, and how my uncles said they meant to be just and kind and stern at the same time; and it certainly did seem as if this was the most likely way to win the men's respect. "For now that we have concluded to keep you with us, Cob, I must warn that we mean business, and that we have made up our minds that we shall win." That morning went off quietly enough, and though we all kept a quiet searching look-out, there was nothing to excite suspicion. Then evening came, and the watching, in which again that night I had no share, but it was an understood thing that I was to be at the works at the same time as the men next day. It was a lovely autumn morning with the wind from the country side, and as I hurried up and off to the works there was a feeling in the air that seemed to tempt me away to the hills and vales, and made me long for a change. "I'll see if one of them won't go for a day," I said to myself; and hopeful of getting the holiday, and perhaps a run up to the great dam, I reached the works before the men. "Well done, industrious!" cried Uncle Bob, who opened the gate to me. "You are first." "That's right," I said. "No, it isn't. Where's Uncle Dick? Why, you look pale." "Uncle Dick isn't awake," he said quickly. "Fact is, Cob, I've had a scare. As you say, I found that they'd been at Piter again. The poor dog has been drugged, and that must mean something wrong." Sure enough, poor Piter lay fast asleep and breathing heavily; but after our last experience we did not feel so despondent about bringing him to again, so, leaving him in his kennel where he had crept, we roused Uncle Dick and told him. "We can't look round now," he said. "The men are coming in to their work, but we shall soon hear if there is anything wrong. The bands again, I expect." Just then we heard the noise made by the drawing of the sluice, the wheel went plashing round, the shaft rumbled, connections were being made, and in a very few minutes the first grindstone was sending forth its loud churring noise. Then there was more and more, and at last the works were in full swing. "There's nothing wrong, then, with the bands," said Uncle Dick; and then we waited, wondering what trick had been played, till about an hour had passed, during which the same remedies as were tried before were put into force with poor old Piter, and he recovered sufficiently to wag his tail. Just about that time Uncle Jack arrived, and was put in possession of our fresh trouble. "And you can find nothing wrong?" he said. "Nothing." "Have you looked under the desks, and in the cupboards?" "We've quietly searched everywhere," replied Uncle Bob earnestly. "Then we must go on as usual," said Uncle Jack. "There, you two go home: Cob and I will chance the risks." "It may have been an attempt to get rid of the dog," I said, "and nothing more." "That's what I've been thinking," said Uncle Jack; and soon after we were left alone. Towards mid-day I went down to have a chat with Pannell, and to ask him how he had got on during his long illness. "Tidy," he said sourly. "There was the club helped me, but the mesters did most." "What! My uncles?" "Ay, didn't you know?" he cried, busying himself about lighting a smaller forge at the back of the first. I shook my head. "Paid me pound a-week all the time I was badly, my lad." "And very kind of them too," I said warmly. "Ay, 'twas. Felt at times, lad, as if I warn't worth the money, that I did." Just then Stevens made his appearance, crossing from the grinders' shop to one of the smithies at the end; and as he went along at some distance I saw him look curiously over at where I was standing talking to Pannell. "Theer it is again," said the latter. "You mean well, lad, and it's very kind on you; but I shall hev it 'fore long on account o' talking to thee." "Oh, surely not!" I cried angrily. "The men will never be such cowards as to attack you for that." "Men weant, but trade will," said Pannell. "Mates can't do as they like about it. Look ye yonder; what did I say?" He nodded in the direction of Stevens, who had returned directly, stopped opposite the smithy, but at some distance, and as soon as I looked up he began to signal to me to go to him. I never liked the man, for he always seemed to dislike me, and I gave him the credit of being one of the active parties in the outrages that had been committed upon us. But I remembered what our plans were to be--frank, straightforward, and fearless--and I walked right up to Stevens, whose brow was lowering and full of menace. "Here, I want a word with you," he said fiercely. "All right, Stevens!" I said. "What is it?" "Come over here," he replied, "and I'll tell ye." He led the way along the yard to the other side of the great coal heap, which lay there massive and square, through its sides being carefully built up with big blocks of coal. We were quite out of sight there, and, as I thought, how easy it would be for him to knock me down with one of the lumps. I was perfectly cool though, till he suddenly seized me by the jacket. I struck up at his hand, but he held on tightly, and there was a curious smile on his face as he said: "Nay, you don't, lad; I'm stronger than thou." "What do you want?" I cried, making a virtue of necessity and standing firm. "What do I want, eh?" he said slowly. "Oh, just a word or two wi' thee, my lad. There, you needn't call thee uncle." "I was not going to call him," I retorted. "Why should I?" "Because you're scarred about what I'm going to do to thee." "No, I'm not," I replied boldly; "because you daren't do anything unless it's in the dark, when you can attack a man behind his back." He winced at this and scowled, but turned it off with a laugh. "'Tack a what?" he said. "A boy, then," I cried. "I know I'm a boy; but I meant people generally." "Nivver you mind that," he said. "You don't understand trade. But joost you look there. Yow've been saying I did some'at to the dog." "That I have not," I cried. "Ay, but you did say it," he repeated fiercely. "I did not say so," I cried almost as angrily; "but if I had said it, I don't suppose I should have been far wrong." "Nay, lad, I did nowt to the dog. I did nowt--I--" He let his hand fall, and a feeling of relief from some expectation came over his face. He had been talking to me, but it was in a curious way, and all the time he talked he seemed to be looking over my shoulder more than in my face. But now he drew a long breath and seemed satisfied with the explanation; and just then I uttered a cry of horror, for there was a loud report, and the yard seemed to be filled with flying cinders and smoke. Stevens gave me a grim look and laid his hand on my shoulder. "Lucky yow weern't theer," he said. "Might have been hurt. Come and see." We joined the men who were hurrying in the direction of the smoke that obscured one end of the yard. "What is it, Uncle Jack?" I cried, as I ran to his side. "I don't know yet," he said. "It was somewhere by the smithies." "Yes; that's plain enough," said my uncle, and we pressed on in front of the men, to come upon Pannell, tending down and rubbing his eyes. "Pannell!" I cried; "you are not hurt?" "Nay, not much," he said sourly. "Got the cinder and stuff in my eyes, but they missed me this time." "What! Was it not an accident?" "Oh, ay!" he replied, "reg'lar accident. Powder got into my little forge, and when I started her wi' some hot coal from t'other one she blew up." "But you are not hurt?" "Nay, lad, I weer stooping down, and were half behind the forge, so I didn't ketch it that time." The smoke was by this time pretty well cleared away, and we walked into the smithy to see what mischief had befallen us. Fortunately no harm had been done to the structure of the building, and there being no glass in the windows there was of course none to blow out. The coal ashes and cinders had been scattered far and wide, and the iron funnel-shaped chimney knocked out of place, while some of the smiths' tools, and the rods of steel upon which Pannell had been working, were thrown upon the floor. The walls, forge, and pieces of iron about told tales for themselves without the odour of the explosive, for everything had been covered with a film of a greyish-white, such as gunpowder gives to iron or brickwork when it is fired. "Where was the powder?" cried Uncle Jack, after satisfying himself that Pannell had not the slightest burn even upon his beard. "In little forge all ready for me when I fired up," growled Pannell sourly, as he scowled round at the little crowd of men; "but they missed me that time." Uncle Jack had a good look round the place, and the workmen stared at us as if in full expectation of being taken to task as the cause of the explosion. I watched their faces cautiously in search of a look of regret, but the only peculiar expression I could see was on the countenance of Stevens, who stood softly rolling up his shirt-sleeves closer and closer to his shoulders, and there was such a curious smile in his eyes that he inspired me with a thought. "Oh, if I have been deceived in him!" That was my thought. For I seemed to see at a glance that he had known the explosion would take place, and that the talk about the dog was an excuse to get me away and save me from the consequences. Just then Uncle Jack turned round to me and laid his hand on my shoulder. "Look here," he said quietly, as if he were showing me a curiosity, but loud enough for all the men to hear--"down in the south of England, my boy, when a workman is disliked it generally comes to a settlement with fists, and there is a fair, honest, stand-up fight. Down here in Arrowfield, Jacob, when another workman does something to offend his fellows--" "Traade," shouted a voice. "To offend his fellow-workmen," repeated Uncle Jack. "Traade," shouted the voice again, and there was a murmur of assent. "Well, have it your own way," said Uncle Jack. "To offend the trade, they try to blind him for life by filling his forge with powder, so that it may explode in his face. Jacob, my lad, next time I go anywhere, and hear people talk about what brave strong manly fellows the Englishmen are, I shall recommend them to come down and stay in Arrowfield for a month and see what is done." There was a low murmur among the men; but we did not stop to listen, and they all returned to their work except Pannell, who went down to the dam and bathed his eyes, after which he went as coolly as could be back to his smithy, took a shovel and borrowed some glowing fire from the next forge, lit up his own, and was soon after hammering his funnel chimney back in its place, and working up rods of steel as if nothing whatever had been amiss. About the middle of the afternoon, though, he came up through the workshop straight to the office, with his hammer in his hand, and gave a loud thump at the door. I opened it and admitted him; for I was in the big office with my uncles, who were talking about this last trouble. "Well, my man, what is it?" said Uncle Jack. Pannell began to lift up his hammer-head slowly and let it fall back again into his left hand, staring straight before him with his dark eyes, which were surrounded with the black marks of the gunpowder which clung still to the skin. "What do you want, Pannell?" I said, giving him a touch on the arm; but the hammer rose and fell still by the contraction of his right hand, and went on tap--tap--falling into his left. "Why don't you speak?" I said again, quite impatiently. "I know," he growled. "I want to speak." "We are listening," said Uncle Dick. "What have you to say?" "Look here," cried Pannell, giving his hammer a flourish round his head as if he were about to attack us. "I'm a man--I am." "And a good big one, Pannell," said Uncle Bob smiling. "Wish I were twyste as big, mester! Theer!" cried Pannell. "I wish you were if it would be any comfort to you," said Uncle Bob to himself. "I've been a-thinking o' this out while I've been hammering yonder, and I want to speak." "Yes," said Uncle Jack. "Go on." "Look ye here, then," cried Pannell, flourishing his hammer round as if he were a modern edition or an angry Thor; "does anyone say I telled on 'em? Did I tell on 'em, mesters? Answer me that." "What! About the outrages?" said Uncle Dick firmly. "Outrages, mester!" "Well, the attempts to blow us up." "Ay!--the trade business. Did I ivver come and say word to anny of you?" "Never." "Or to yow, youngster?" "Never, Pannell. You always went against us," I said, "when a word from you would--" "Theer, that'll do. Tell me this--Did I ivver tell on anny on 'em?" "No; you have always been true to your party, Pannell--if that is what you mean." "And that is what I mean," said the great fellow, throwing his head about and jerking out his words, each with a menacing flourish of the hammer or a mock blow, as if they were steel words that he wanted to strike into shape. "Nobody accused you of tale-bearing to us," said Uncle Dick. "Didn't they, mester?" he roared. "What's this, then, and this, and this?" He touched the scars upon his head and brow, and the sticking-plaster left on. "Don't you call that saying I telled on 'em, wi'out the poother in my forge this morning?" "A cowardly brutal thing to have done, my man." "Ay, so 'twas. I'd done nowt but be civil to young mester here. Say," he cried fiercely, "yow telled 'em I forged that trap!" and he turned on me. "Oh, Pannell!" I cried, flushing indignantly. That was all I said, but it was enough. "Beg pardon, young gentleman!--yow didn't, I can see that. Nay, it was the altogetherishness o' the whole thing. They set me down--me, a mate in the union--as hevvin' telled on 'em and gone agen 'em, and being friends wi' the mesters; and yow see what they've done." "Indeed we do, Pannell--" "Howd hard, mester," said the big smith, flourishing about his hammer. "I hevn't had my spell yet. I want to speak." Uncle Dick nodded, as much as to say, "Go on." "Look here, then, mesters--I've thowt this out. It's cowards' business, ivvery bit on it, 'cept Matt Stivvins this morning coming and fetching young mester out of the way." "Yes," I said, "he did." "And they'll knobstick 'im for it if they know--see if they don't!" "Then they mustn't know," I cried eagerly. "I don't like Stevens, but he did save me this morning." "Ay, he did, 'cause he said once yow weer a trump, my lad; but he didn't give me a word. I sha'n't tell on him, but I sha'n't hev nought more to do wi' anny on 'em. I've been union man all these years and paid, and here's what I've got for it. I says to mysen, I says: If this here's what comes o' sticking to union through all their games I've done wi' 'em, and I'm a master's man--that's all." He turned short round to go, but Uncle Dick stopped him. "I don't quite understand what you mean, Pannell." "What I mean! Why, what I said--that's what I mean." "That you have done with the trades-union, Pannell," I cried, "and mean to be on our side?" "That's so, mester. Now I mun go or my fire'll be out." He strode out of the place and banged the door after him; and as he went along the shop I could see him in imagination staring defiantly from side to side, in answer to the savage murmur that greeted him from the men whom he had made up his mind to defy. "What do you think of that?" said Uncle Dick, as soon as we heard the farther door close with a crash. "It's the beginning of the end," said Uncle Jack with an eager look in his eyes. "Keep firm, boys, and we shall have them all honestly on our side, and we can laugh at all trades-unions in Arrowfield that fight with cowardly weapons. The men do not do what their own feelings prompt, but obey the law of a secret society which forces them to do these cruel wrongs." It must have been intentional on his part, for as I went down into the furnace house about half an hour after, at my usual time, to take down an account of work done, I met Stevens coming towards me. We were in the big empty building, the furnace being cold, and no work going on that day, and he slouched towards me as if he were going by, but I stopped him and held out my hand. "Thank you, Stevens," I said. "I didn't understand it then, but you saved me from something terrible to-day." He gave a quick glance or two about, and then regularly snatched my hand, gave it a squeeze, and threw it away. "All right, my lad!" he said in a hoarse whisper. "You're on'y one o' the mesters, but I couldn't abear to see thee in for it too." He went on his away and I went mine, feeling that Uncle Jack was right, and that though it might be a long journey first, it was the beginning of the end. _ |
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