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"Oh, ask him in, Mrs Stephenson," cried Uncle d.i.c.k; and as she left the room--"it's the solicitor to whom I brought the letter of introduction from the bank."
It was a short dark man in black coat and waistcoat and pepper-and-salt trousers who was shown in. He had little sharp eyes that seemed to glitter. So did his hair, which was of light-grey, and stood up all over his head as if it was on white fire. He had not a particle of hair on his face, which looked as if he was a very good customer to the barber.
He shook hands very heartily with all of us, nodding pleasantly the while; and when he sat down he took out a brown-and-yellow silk handkerchief and blew his nose like a horn.
"Welcome to Yorks.h.i.+re, gentlemen!" he said. "My old friends at the bank send me a very warm letter of recommendation about you, and I'm at your service. Professional consultations at the usual fee, six and eight or thirteen and four, according to length. Friendly consultations--Thank you, I'm much obliged. This is a friendly consultation. Now what can I do for you?"
He looked round at us all, and I felt favourably impressed. So did my uncles, as Uncle d.i.c.k answered for all.
"Nothing at present, sir. By and by we shall be glad to come to you for legal and friendly advice too."
"That's right," said Mr Tomplin. "You've taken the Rivulet Works, I hear."
"Yes, down there by the stream."
"What are you going to do?--carry on the old forging and grinding?"
"Oh, dear, no!" said Uncle d.i.c.k. "We are going in for odds and ends, sir. To introduce, I hope, a good many improvements in several branches of the trades carried on here, princ.i.p.ally in forging."
Mr Tomplin drew in his lips and filled his face with wrinkles.
"Going to introduce new inventions, eh?" he said.
"Yes, sir, but only one at a time," said Uncle Jack.
"And have you brought a regiment of soldiers with you, gentlemen?"
"Brought a what?" said Uncle Bob, laughing.
"Regiment of soldiers, sir, and a company of artillerymen with a couple of guns."
"Ha! Ha! Ha!" laughed Uncle d.i.c.k, showing his white teeth. "Mr Tomplin means to besiege Arrowfield."
"No, I don't, my dear sir. I mean to turn your works into a fort to defend yourselves against your enemies."
"My dear sir," said Uncle Jack, "we haven't an enemy in the world."
"Not at the present moment, sir, I'll be bound," said Mr Tomplin, taking snuff, and then blowing his nose so violently that I wondered he did not have an accident with it and split the sides. "Not at the present moment, gentlemen; but as soon as it is known that you are going to introduce new kinds of machinery, our enlightened townsmen will declare you are going to take the bread out of their mouths and destroy everything you make."
"Take the bread out of their mouths, my dear Mr Tomplin!" said Uncle Jack. "Why, what we do will put bread in their mouths by making more work."
"Of course it will, my dear sirs."
"Then why should they interfere?"
"Because of their ignorance, gentlemen. They won't see it. Take my advice: there's plenty to be done by clever business men. Start some steady manufacture to employ hands as the work suggests. Only use present-day machinery if you wish to be at peace."
"We do wish to be at peace, Mr Tomplin," said Uncle Bob; "but we do not mean to let a set of ignorant workmen frighten us out of our projects."
"Hear, hear!" said Uncle d.i.c.k and Uncle Jack; and I put in a small "hear" at the end.
"Well, gentlemen, I felt it to be my duty to tell you," said Mr Tomplin, taking more snuff and making more noise. "You will have attacks made upon you to such an extent that you had better be in the bush in Queensland among the blacks."
"But not serious attacks?" said Uncle Jack. "Attempts to frighten us?"
"Attempts to frighten you! Well, you may call them that," said Mr Tomplin; "but there have been two men nearly beaten to death with sticks, one factory set on fire, and two gunpowder explosions during the past year. Take my advice, gentlemen, and don't put yourself in opposition to the workmen if you are going to settle down here."
He rose, shook hands, and went away, leaving us looking at each other across the table.
"Cheerful place Arrowfield seems to be," said Uncle d.i.c.k.
"Promises to be lively," said Uncle Jack.
"What do you say, Cob?" cried Uncle Bob. "Shall we give up, be frightened, and run away like dogs with our tails between our legs?"
"No!" I cried, thumping the table with my fist. "I wouldn't be frightened out of anything I felt to be right."
"Bravo! Bravo! Bravo!" cried my uncles.
"At least I don't think I would," I said. "Perhaps I really am a coward after all."
"Well," said Uncle d.i.c.k, "I don't feel like giving up for such a thing as this. I'd sooner buy pistols and guns and fight. It can't be so bad as the old gentleman says. He's only scaring us. There, it's ten o'clock; you fellows are tired, and we want to breakfast early and go and see the works, so let's get to bed."
We were far enough out of the smoke for our bedrooms to be beautifully white and sweet, and I was delighted with mine, as I saw what a snug little place it was. I said "Good-night!" and had shut my door, when, going to my window, I drew aside the blind, and found that I was looking right down upon the town.
"Oh!" I e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed, and I ran out to the next room, which was Uncle d.i.c.k's. "Look!" I cried. "Now you'll believe me. The town is on fire."
He drew up the blind, and threw up his window, when we both looked down at what seemed to be the dying out of a tremendous conflagration--dying out, save in one place, where there was a furious rush of light right up into the air, with sparks flying and flickering tongues of flame darting up and sinking down again, while the red and tawny-yellow smoke rolled away.
"On fire, Cob!" he said quietly. "Yes, the town's on fire, but in the proper way. Arrowfield is a fiery place--all furnaces. There's nothing the matter, lad."
"But there! There!" I cried, "where the sparks are roaring and rus.h.i.+ng out with all that flame."
"There! Oh! That's nothing, my boy. The town is always like this."
"But you don't see where I mean," I cried, still doubting, and pointing down to our right.
"Oh, yes! I do, my dear boy. That is where they are making the Bessemer steel."
CHAPTER THREE.
A BAD BEGINNING.
I thought when I lay down, after putting out my candle, that I should never get a wink of sleep. There was a dull glow upon my window-blind, and I could hear a distant clangour and a curious faint roar; but all at once, so it seemed to me, I opened my eyes, and the dull glow had given place to bright suns.h.i.+ne on my window-blind, and jumping out of bed I found that I had slept heartily till nearly breakfast time, for the c.h.i.n.king of cups in saucers fell upon my ear.
I looked out of the window, and there lay the town with the smoke hanging over it in a dense cloud, but the banging of a wash-jug against a basin warned me that Uncle d.i.c.k was on the move, and the next moment _tap, tap, tap_, came three blows on my wall, which I knew as well as could be were given with the edge of a hair-brush, and I replied in the same way.