CHAPTER NINETEEN.
PANNELL SAYS NOTHING.
"Better and better!" cried Uncle Dick, waving a letter over his head onemorning 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 isalready a greater demand than we can supply."
"It seems funny too," I said. "I went through Norton's works yesterdaywith Mr Tomplin, and saw them making steel, and it seemed almostexactly your way."
"Yes, Cob," said Uncle Dick, "_almost_. It's that trifling littledifference that does it. It is so small that it is almostimperceptible; but still it is enough to make our steel worth half asmuch 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 yearsof discretion some day, Cob, and then you will be trusted with thesecret."
"I consider that he could be trusted now," cried Uncle Dick. "I amquite willing to show him whenever he likes. We make a fresh batchto-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 Jacksharply.
"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 hisfather's son. If we have not shown him sooner it is on account of hisfather's interests, and because we felt that a secret that meansproperty or nothing is rather a weighty one for a lad of his years tobear. Well, once more, Cob, you will not mind being left?"
"No," I said, "you will not be away many hours. The men will hardlyknow that you have gone, and if they were to turn disagreeable I'm surePannell would help me."
"Oh, there's no fear of any open annoyance," said Uncle Jack; "the menhave 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 theinfirmary to-morrow."
"Cured?"
"Yes; only he will walk a little lame, that's all, and only for a monthor two."
"Well, take care of the place, Cob," said Uncle Jack. "I don't supposethe men will interfere with you, but if they do you can retreat."
"If you thought they would interfere with me," I said, "you would notgo."
They all laughed, and, as we had arranged, they left the works one byone, and I went on just as usual, looking in at one place, and thenanother, to see how the men were going on, before returning to theoffice and copying some letters left for me to do.
It was a month since the adventure with the trap, and to see the men noone could have imagined that there was the slightest discontent amongthem.
Pannell had said very little, though I had expected he would; in fact heseemed to have turned rather surly and distant to me. As for the othermen, they did their work in their regular independent style, and I hadcome to the conclusion that my best way was to treat all alike, and notmake special friends, especially after the melancholy mistake I had madein putting most faith in one who was the greatest scoundrel in theplace.
My uncles had gone to the next town to meet a firm of manufacturers whohad been making overtures that seemed likely to be profitable, and thisday had been appointed for the meeting.
After a time I went into Pannell's smithy, to find him hammering away asearnestly as ever, with his forehead covered with dew, his throat open,and his shirt-sleeves rolled up, so as to give his great muscles fullplay.
"Well," he said all at once, "want another trap?"
"No," I said, smiling. "I say, Pannell, what did the men think aboutit?"
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 havethought of catching you as old Gentles."
"Hush! Say rat," he whispered. "Don't name names. And say, lad, don'ttalk 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 bangas 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 thenback 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 yougoing?"
"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'sservants here."
"Nay, lad," he whispered as he hammered away. "Men's worse off than themasters. Wuckman here hev to do what the trade tells him, or he'd soonfind 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 fascinatedme so that I stopped on watching him. A hammer to me had always seemedto be a tool to strike straightforward blows; but Pannell's hammermoulded and shaped, and always seemed to fall exactly right, so that apiece of steel grew into form. And I believe he could have turned outof the glowing metal anything of which a model had been put before hiseyes.
"Well," I said, "I must go to my writing."
"Nay, stop a bit. We two ain't said much lately. They all gone toKedham?"
"Yes; how did you know?"
"Oh, we knows a deal. There aren't much goes on as we don't know. Lookye 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 atrap."
"Yes, I know there was," I replied with a laugh.
"Nay, it's nowt to laugh at, lad. Rats has sharp teeth; and that thererat--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 amoment 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'tlikely!"
I looked at him searchingly, but his face seemed to turn as hard as thesteel he hammered; and finding that he would not say any more, I lefthim, to go thoughtfully back to my desk and try to write.
But who could write situated as I was--left alone with about thirtyworkmen in the place, any one of whom might be set to do the biting inrevenge for the trap-setting? For there was no misunderstandingPannell's words; they were meant as a sort of warning for me. And nowwhat was I to do?
I wished my uncles had not gone or that they had taken me, and I nearlymade 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 methere, though the knowledge the men evidently had of their masters'movements was rather startling; and I grew minute by minute morenervous.
"What a coward I am!" I said to myself as I began writing, but stoppedto 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 meup!
I slipped off my stool and examined all the papers beneath my desk andin the waste-paper basket, and then I felt so utterly ashamed that Ifo
rced myself back into my seat and tried to go on writing.
But it was impossible. The day was bright and sunny and the water inthe dam was dancing and glittering, for the wind was off the hills andblew the smoke in the other direction--over the town. There was a greatpatch of dancing light on the ceiling reflected from the dam, and someflowers in the window looked bright and sent out a sweet perfume; but Icould see nothing but men crawling in the dark with powder-cans andfuses; and to make myself worse, I must go to Uncle Jack's cupboard andlook at the can that we had found by Gentles that night, just as it hadbeen picked up, with a long fuse hanging out of the neck and twistedround and round.
I went back after locking it up and taking out the key, and afteropening the window I stood looking out to calm myself, wishing the whilethat I was right away among the hills far from the noise of whirringstones and shrieking metal. I knew the sun was shining there, and thegrass was green, and the view was spread out for miles; while from whereI stood there were the great black buildings, the tall shafts, and closebeneath me the dam which, in spite of the sunshine, suggested nothingbut men coming down from the head on rafts of wood to work somemischief.
The situation became intolerable; I could not write; I could not getcalm by walking up and down; and every time there was a louder noisethan usual from the upper or lower workshop I started, and theperspiration came out upon my face.
What a coward! You will say.
Perhaps so; but a boy cannot go through such adventures as fell to mylot and not have some trace left behind.
I stood at last in the middle of the little office, and thought of whatwould 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 facethe danger, if there was any; for I said to myself, "Better to see itcoming than to be taken unawares."
Now, please, don't think me conceited. In place of being conceited, Iwant to set down modestly and truthfully the adventures that befell mewhile my lot was cast among a number of misguided men who, boundtogether in what they considered a war against their masters, wereforced by their leaders into the performance of deeds quite opposed totheir ordinary nature. It was a mad and foolish combination as thenconducted, 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 spiritI put as bold a face on the matter as possible, and went down the longworkshop where the men were grinding and working over thepolishing-wheels, which flew round and put such a wonderful gloss upon apiece of metal.
Then I went down and into the furnace-house, where the fires wereglowing, and through the chinks the blinding glare of the blast-fedflame seemed to flash and cut the gloom.
The men there gave me a civil nod, and so did the two smiths who wereforging knives, while, when I went next into Pannell's smithy, feelingall the more confident for having made up my mind to action, the bigfellow stared at me.
"Yow here agen?" he said.
"Yes."
"Well, don't stay, lad; and if I was you I should keep out of wetgrinders' shop."
"Why?" I said.
He banged a piece of steel upon his anvil, and the only answers I couldget 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 hiswindow, stepped up on the bench, and looked down, wondering whether itwould be any good to fish from there.
The water after some hours' working was much lower, so that a ledgeabout nine inches wide was laid bare and offered itself as a convenientresting-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, andfound the men as busy as usual, and ready enough to say a few civilwords.
And so the afternoon wore away, and telling myself that I had beenscared at shadows, I felt a great deal more confident by tea-time whenthe men were leaving.
I sat in the office then as important as if I were the master, andlistened to their leaving and crossing the yard. I could hear themtalking to the gate-keeper, and then I fancied I heard a rustling noiseoutside the building, but it was not repeated, and I began listening tothe last men going, and soon after, according to his custom, old Dunningthe gate-keeper came to bring his key.
I heard the old fellow's halting step on the stairs, and trying to lookvery 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 lookround?"
"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'tmix with the quarrels between masters and men."
"Not I, Mester Jacob. I just do my bit o' work here, which just suitsme, being a worn-out sort o' man, and then goes back home to my tea andmy garden. You've nivver seen my bit o' garden, Mester Jacob, sir. Youmust 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 'emalone."
"No threats or anything of that sort?"
"Well, you see, sir, I've no right to say a word," he replied, sinkinghis voice. "If they thought I was a talker, mebbe they'd be fallingupon me wi' sticks; but you've always been a kind and civil younggentleman to me, so I will tell you as Gentles says he means to pay youwhen 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 memore comfortable. "You see, sir, you nivver know where to hev a manlike that. He might hit at you wi' his own fisty, but it's more'nlikely 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 sharplook-out, sir, and so will I, for I shouldn't like to see a nicewell-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 ofrushing out and getting home as quickly as I could, there was a sort offear upon me that a party of men might be waiting at one of the cornersready to shoot me.
"I must wait a bit, and get cool," I said; and then looking about me, Ishivered, for the great works looked strange and deserted, there was ahorrible stillness in the place, and I had never felt so lonely andunpleasantly 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, Iunhooked the spring swivel and set the dog free, when, as usual, heshowed his pleasure by butting his great head at me and trying to forceit between my legs.
I was used to it and knew how to act, but with a stranger it would havebeen awkward and meant sitting down heavily upon the dog unless heleaped out of the way.
Of course I did not sit down on Piter, but lifted a leg over him, and assoon as he had become steady made a sort of inspection of the place tosee that nothing was wrong, feeling that it was a sort of duty to do, asI was left alone.
Piter kept close to me, rubbing my leg with one ear as we went all overthe place, and as I found no powder-cans and fuses, no bottles full offulminating silver, or any other deadly implement, my spirits rose and Ibegan 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 beanything very terrible there. The floor was wet, and the stone
s andtheir frames and bands cast broad shadows across the place and on theopposite wall, but nothing seemed to be wrong, only I could hear thehollow echoing plash of the water falling from the wheel sluice downinto the stone-walled pit.
There was nothing new in this, only that it seemed a little plainer thanusual, 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 ableto see the bottom, the view being cut off by a great solid bench in themiddle of the floor. On passing round this, though, I saw that therewas something wrong; two or three bands had gone from as manygrindstones, and had evidently been hastily thrown into the wheel-pit,whoever had done this having left one on the floor, half in and halfout, and keeping the door from shutting close.
"That couldn't be Gentles," I said aloud as I threw back the door, andmy words echoed in the great black place, where the sunlight was cuttingthe shadow in a series of nearly horizontal rays as it came in past thewheel.
I could see at a glance the amount of the mischief done: one band wasevidently down in the water, and hung hitched in some way on to the bandupon the floor. It had been intended to be dragged in as well, but ithad caught against the iron of the rail that surrounded the bracket-likeplatform the width of the door and projecting over the water, which wasten feet below.
I recalled standing upon it to catch eels, when I contrived to catch thelost bands as well, and thinking that perhaps after all there wereseveral of the straps sunken below me, I stooped down, took hold of theband, and pulled.
It would not come, being caught somehow at the edge of the platform; sogathering it closely in my hands rather unwillingly, for it was a wetoily affair, I stepped on to the platform, uttered a shriek, and fellwith a tremendous splash into the water below. I felt the platform giveway, dropping at once from beneath my feet, and though I snatched at itmy hands glided over the boards in an instant and I was down amidst atangle of bands in the deep black water.
Patience Wins: War in the Works Page 19