Patience Wins: War in the Works

by George Manville Fenn

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN.

  ONLY A GLASS OF WATER.

  The keeping watch of a night had now grown into a regular businesshabit, and though we discovered nothing, the feeling was always upon usthat if we relaxed our watchfulness for a few hours something wouldhappen.

  The paper stuck on the door was not forgotten by my uncles, but the menwent on just as usual, and the workshops were as busy as ever, and aftera good deal of drawing and experimenting Uncle Dick or Uncle Jack keptproducing designs for knives or tools to be worked up out of the newsteel.

  "But," said I one day, "I don't see that this reaping-hook will be anybetter than the old-fashioned one."

  "The steel is better and will keep sharp longer, my lad, but peoplewould not believe that it was in the slightest degree different, unlessthey had something to see," said Uncle Dick.

  So the men were set to forge and grind the different shaped tools andimplements that were designed, and I often heard them laughing andjeering at what they called the "contrapshions."

  My turn came round to keep the morning watch about a week after the newbands had been fitted. Uncle Bob had been on guard during the night,and just as I was comfortably dreaming of a pleasant country excursion Iwas awakened by a cheery, "Tumble up, Tumble up!"

  I sat up confused and drowsy, but that soon passed off as Uncle Boblaughingly told me, in sham nautical parlance, that all was well ondeck; weather hazy, and no rocks ahead as far as he knew.

  "Oh," I said yawning, "I do wish all this watching was over!"

  "So do I, Cob," he cried; "but never mind, we shall tire the rascals outyet."

  I thought to myself that they would tire us out first, as I went downgrumpily and disposed to shiver; and then, to thoroughly waken and warmmyself, I had a good trot round the big furnace, where the men had triedto fire the powder.

  It was circus-horse sort of work, that running round on the black ashesand iron scales, but it warmed me, and as the miserable shivery feelingwent off I felt brighter and more ready for my task.

  Piter was with me trotting close behind, as I ran round and round; andwhen at last I was pretty well out of breath I sat down on a bench, andtook the dog's fore-paws on my knees, as I thought about how differentmy life here seemed from what I had expected. There had been someunpleasant adventures, and a good deal of work, but otherwise my dailycareer seemed to be very monotonous, and I wondered when our old countrytrips were to be renewed.

  Then I had a good look round the place upstairs and down; and, so sureas I passed an open window, I felt about with my hands for wires, thememory of that powder-tin being too vivid to be forgotten.

  I went and listened by the office door, and could hear my unclebreathing heavily.

  I went and looked out at the dam, which was always worth looking at forits reflections of the heavens, but it was perfectly still. There wasno raft gliding down towards the building.

  Down in the grinders' shop all was still, and in the darkness thedifferent shafts and wheels looked very curious and threatening, so muchso that it only wanted a little imagination for one to think that thiswas some terrible torture chamber, the door at the end leading into theplace where the water torment was administered, for the curious musicaldripping and plashing sounded very thrilling and strange in thesolemnity of the night.

  That place always attracted me, and though there in the darkness I didnot care to open the door and look down at the black water, I went andlistened, and as I did so it seemed that there was something going onthere. Every now and then, came a splash, and then a hurrying as ofsomething being drawn over wet bars of wood. Then there were a seriesof soft thuds at irregular intervals, and as I listened all this wasmagnified by imagination, and I was ready to go and call for Uncle Bobto descend when a faint squeaking noise brought me to my senses and Ilaughed.

  "Why, Piter," I said, "what a dog you are! Don't you hear the rats?"

  Piter rubbed his great head against me and whined softly.

  "Don't care for rats?" I said. "All right, old fellow. I forgot thatyou were a bull-dog and did not care for anything smaller than a bull,unless it were a man."

  I stood listening for a few minutes longer, wondering whether some ofthe sounds I could hear down by the stonework were made by eels, and,recalling what Gentles had said, I determined that some evening I wouldhave a try for the slimy fellows either down below the great water-wheelor out of the office-window, where I could drop a line into the deepestpart of the dam.

  Then I went into the smiths' shops and thought about how sulky Pannellhad been ever since I had talked to him about the wheel-bands.

  "This won't do, Piter," I said, trying to rouse myself, for I wasdreadfully sleepy; and I had another trot with the dog after me in hissolid, silent way--for he rarely barked unless it was in anger--buttrotted close behind me wherever I might go.

  I cannot tell you what a fight I had that night--for it was more likenight than morning. I walked fast; I tried all sorts of gymnasticattitudes; I leaped up, caught hold of an iron bar and swung by my arms,and whenever I did these things I grew as lively as a cricket; but assoon as, from utter weariness, I ceased, the horrible drowsiness came onagain, and as I walked I actually dreamed that there was a man creepingalong the ground towards the building.

  This seemed to wake me, and it was so real that I went out to see--nothing.

  Then I had another tour of the place; stood leaning against door-posts,and up in corners, ready to drop down with sleep, but fighting it offagain.

  I went out across the yard and had a look at the dam, lay down on thestone edge, and bathed my face with the fresh cold water, turned myhandkerchief into a towel, and walked back in the dim, grey light,seeing that morning was breaking, and beginning to rejoice that I hadgot rid of my drowsy fit, which seemed unaccountable.

  Piter seemed as drowsy as I, holding his head down in a heavy way as ifit were more than he could bear.

  "Poor old boy! Why, you seem as sleepy as I am, Piter!" I said, as Iseated myself on the stairs leading up to the office; and he whinedsoftly and laid his head in my lap.

  I thought I heard a noise just then, and looked up, but there was norepetition of the sound, and I sat there at a turn of the stairs,leaning against the wall, and wondering why the dog had not started upinstead of letting his heavy head drop lower in my lap.

  "Why, you are as drowsy as I am, Piter," I cried again, playing with hisears; "anyone would think you had been taking a sleeping draught orsomething of that kind."

  He answered with a heavy snore, just like a human being, and I satgazing down and out through the open doorway into the yard, thinkingthat it would not be long now before it was broad daylight instead ofthat half darkness that seemed so strange and misty that I could onlyjust see through the doorway and distinguish the stones.

  Then I could hardly see them at all, and then they seemed to disappear,and I could see all over the yard, and the dam and the works all atonce. It was a wonderful power of sight that I seemed to possess, for Iwas looking through the walls of the upper shop, and all through thelower shop, and down into the water-pit. Then I was looking round thefurnace, and in at the smiths' forges, and at the great chimney-shaft,and at the precipice by Dome Tor.

  What a place that seemed! Since my uncle slipped over it the slaty,shaley face appeared to have grown twice as big and high, and over itand down the steep slope a man was crawling right in from the Dome Torslip to our works. I saw him come along the stone edge of the dam andover the wheel with the water, to bob up and down in the black pit likea cork float when an eel is biting at a bait. There he went--bob--bob--bob--and down out of sight.

  It seemed such a splendid bite, that, being fond of fishing, I was aboutto strike, the absurdity of the idea of fishing with a man for a floatnever striking me for a moment; but, just as I was going to pull up, theman was crawling over the floor of the grinders' shop, and the water wasnot there, though the wheel seemed to be going round and uttering aheavy groan at every tur
n for want of grease.

  There he was again, creeping and writhing up the stairs, and higher andhigher along the floor among the lathes; then he was in the office, andover the bed where Uncle Bob lay making a snoring noise like the greatwater-wheel as it turned. What a curiously-long, thin, writhing man heseemed to be as he crawled and wriggled all over the floor and lathesand polishing-wheels. Down, too, into the smiths' shops, and over thehalf-extinct fires without burning himself, and all the time the wheelwent round with its snoring noise, and the man--who was really a bigeel--was ringing a loud bell, and--

  I jumped up wide-awake, upsetting Piter, and throwing his head out of mylap, when, instead of springing up, he rolled heavily half-way down thestairs as if he were dead.

  "Why, I've been to sleep," I said angrily to myself, "and dreaming allsorts of absurd nonsense! That comes of thinking about fishing foreels."

  I was cold and stiff, and there was a bell ringing in the distance atsome works, where the men began an hour sooner than ours. But I took nonotice of that, for I was thinking about Piter, and wondering how hecould lie so still.

  "Is he dead?" I thought; and I went down and felt him.

  He did not move; but it was evident that he was not dead, for he snoredheavily, and felt warm enough; but he was too fast asleep to be roused,even when I took hold of his collar and shook him.

  I was puzzled, and wondered whether he could have had anything to makehim so sleepy.

  But if he had had anything to make him sleepy I had not, and yet I musthave been soundly asleep for two or three hours.

  I remembered, though, that when I last went round the yard Piter hadbeen sniffing about at something, and perhaps he might have eaten whathad not agreed with him then.

  "Poor old boy! He'll wake up presently," I said to myself as I liftedhim up; and heavy enough he seemed as I carried him down to his kennel,just inside the door, where he lay motionless, snoring heavily still.

  "Lucky thing that no one has been," I said to myself, as, feelingthoroughly ashamed of my breach of trust, I went down to the dam, takinga towel with me this time from out of my office-drawer, and there,kneeling on the stones, I had a good bathe at my face and forehead, andwent back feeling ever so much fresher.

  The sounds of toil were rising in the distance, and over the great townthe throb and hum and whirr of the busy hive was rising in the sunnymorning air, as, with the events of the night fading away, I went in tomy office to put away the towel and use the comb and brush I kept there.

  That done, I was going to call Uncle Bob and walk back with him to ourhome, for the men would soon be there.

  Just then the water-bottle and glass upon my desk caught my eye, and,like a flash, I remembered that I had filled the glass and drunk alittle water, leaving the glass nearly full so as to take some more if Iwanted it, for a glass of water was, I found, a capital thing to keepoff drowsiness when one was watching.

  I was sure I had left that glass nearly full, and standing on the desk;but I had not been and drunk any more, of that I was sure. I don't knowwhy I had not gone back to have some, considering how sleepy I was, butI certainly had not. I was sure of it.

  Then the water-bottle! It was a common plain bottle such as is used ona wash-stand, and we had three of them always filled with fresh coldwater on the desks. Mine was full when I poured some out in the night,and now it was quite empty; and as I stared at it and then about theroom I saw a great patch of wet on the carpet.

  I looked farther and there was another patch--a smaller patch or bigsplash, as if the contents of the glass had been thrown down.

  It was very strange, and I could not understand it. I had not thrownthe water down. If I had wanted to get rid of it, I should have gone tothe sink outside or have opened the window, and thrown it out into thedam.

  The matter was of small consequence, and I paid no more attention to it,but went to Uncle Bob, where he was lying, fighting with myself as towhether I should tell him that I had been to sleep.

  I did not like to speak, for I felt--well I felt as most boys wouldunder the circumstances; but I mastered my moral cowardice, as Ithought, and determined to tell him--after breakfast.

  "Ah, Cob, old chap," he cried, jumping up as I laid my hand on hisshoulder, "what a delicious sleep! What a morning too--Hah! That'sbetter."

  He was dressed, for though whoever lay down, so to speak, went to bed,he never undressed; so that after a plunge of the face and hands in thecool fresh water, and a scrub and brush, Uncle Bob was ready.

  "I want my breakfast horribly, Cob," he said; "and we've an hour towait. Let's have a walk round by the hill as we go home. Have youunlocked the gate?"

  "Yes," I said; "before I came up to call you."

  "That's right. Ah, here the men come!" for there was the trampling offeet, and the noise of voices crossing the yard. "Fed Piter?"

  "No; not yet," I said. "He's asleep."

  "Asleep!"

  "Yes; he has been asleep these three hours past--asleep and snoring.He's in his kennel now. I couldn't wake him."

  "Nice sort of a watch-dog, Cob!"

  "Yes," I said, feeling very guilty and shrinking from my confession.

  "Do you say you tried to wake him?"

  "Yes," I said, "I took him up in my arms, and carried him down to hiskennel, and he was snoring all the time."

  "Carried him down! Where from?"

  "The stairs. He went to sleep there."

  "Cob!" he cried, making the blood flush to my face, and then run back tomy heart--"why, what's the matter, boy, aren't you well?"

  "My head aches a little, and my mouth feels rather hot and dry."

  "And you've got dark marks under your eyes, boy. You've not been asleeptoo, have you?"

  I stared at him wildly, and felt far more unwell now.

  "Why don't you speak?" he cried angrily. "You haven't been to sleep,have you?"

  "I was going to confess it, uncle, if you had given me time," I said."I never did such a thing before; but I couldn't keep awake, and fellasleep for over two hours."

  "Oh, Cob! Cob!"

  "I couldn't help it, uncle," I cried passionately. "I did try so hard.I walked and ran about. I stood up, and danced and jumped, and went inthe yard, but it was all of no use, and at last I dropped down on thestairs with Piter, and before I knew it I was fast."

  "Was the dog asleep too?"

  "He went to sleep before I did," I said bitterly.

  "Humph!"

  "Don't be angry with me, Uncle Bob," I cried. "I did try so hard."

  "Did you take anything last night after I left you?"

  "No, uncle. You know I was very sleepy when you called me."

  "Nothing at all?"

  "Only a drop of water out of the bottle."

  "Go and fetch what is left," he said. "Or no, I'll come. But Piter;what did he have?"

  "I don't know, only that he seemed to pick up something just as we werewalking along the yard. That's all."

  "There's some fresh mischief afoot, Cob," cried Uncle Bob, "and--ah,here it is! Well, my man, what is it?"

  This was to Gentles, whose smooth fat face was full of wrinkles, and hiseyes half-closed.

  He took off his cap--a soft fur cap, and wrung it gently as if it werefull of water. Then he began shaking it out, and brushing it with hiscuff, and looked from one to the other, giving me a salute by jerking upone elbow.

  "Well, why don't you speak, man; what is it?" cried Uncle Bob. "Isanything wrong?"

  "No, mester, there aren't nought wrong, as you may say, though happenyou may think it is. Wheel-bands hev been touched again."