The Parson O' Dumford Part 16

"Yes, it's Tom, sure enew," said the new-comer. "Daisy Banks, it's time thou wast at home, and I'm goin' to see thee theer."

"How dare you interfere, you insolent scoundrel!" cried Richard, striding forward; but he stopped short as Tom drew himself up.

"Look ye here, Richard Glaire--Mester Richard Glaire," said Tom, hoa.r.s.ely, "I'm goin' to tak' Daisy Banks home to her father wi'out touching of you; but if yow try to stop me, I'll finish the job as I stopped them lads from doing this morning. Now go home while you're raight, for it wean't be safe to come a step nigher."

Richard Glaire drew back, while the young fellow took Daisy by the wrist, and drew her arm through his own, striding off directly, but stopping as Richard cried:

"You cowardly eavesdropper; you heard every word."

"Just about," said Tom, coolly; "I come to tak' care o' Daisy here; and if she'd said 'Yes,' by the time yow'd got the key of your private door theer, I should ha' knocked thee down and had my foot o' thee handsome face, Mester."

He strode off, Daisy having hard work to keep up with him, sobbing the while, till they were near her home, when she made an effort to cease crying, wiped her eyes, and broke the silence.

"Did--did you hear what I said, Tom?" she whispered.

"Ivery word, la.s.s, but I only recollect one thing."

"What was that?"

"That thou did'st not love me a bit."

Daisy gave a sob.

"You mustn't mind, Tom," she said, in a low voice, "for I'm a bad, wretched girl."

"I should spoil the face of any man who said so to me," he said, pa.s.sionately; and then he relapsed into his quiet, moody manner.

"There's plenty of better girls than me, Tom, will be glad to love you,"

she said.

"Yes," he said, softly, "plenty;" and then with a simple pathos he continued bitterly, "and I've got plenty more hearts to give i' place o'

the one as you've 'bout broke."

Daisy's breath came with a catch, and they went on in silence for a time--a silence that the girl herself broke.

"Tom," she said, hoa.r.s.ely, and he gave quite a start. "Tom, are you going to tell mother and father what you've heard and seen?"

"No, la.s.s," he said, sadly, "I'm not o' that sort. I came to try and take care o' thee, not as I've any call to now. Thou must go thy own gate, for wi' such as thou fathers and mothers can do nowt. If d.i.c.k Glaire marries thee, I hope thou'lt be happy. If he deceives thee--"

"What, Tom?" whispered the girl, in an awe-stricken tone, for her companion was silent.

"I shall murder him, and be hung out of my misery," said Tom. "There's your door, la.s.s. Go in."

He waited till the door closed upon her, and then strode off into the darkness.

Meanwhile Sim Slee leaned cautiously from the window watching Richard, who stood now just beneath him, grinding his teeth with impotent rage as he saw Daisy disappear.

"Why didn't that fool smash the lungeing villain!" said Slee to himself; and then he leaned a little further out.

"I'd like to drop one of these ingots on his head, only it would be mean--Yah! go on, you tyrant and oppressor and robber of the poor, and-- oh, my! what a lark!" he said, drawing in his head as Richard Glaire disappeared, when he threw himself on the floor, hugging himself and rolling about in ecstasy, while the cat on a neighbouring lathe set up its back, swelled its tail, and stared at him with dilated eyes.

"Here's a lark!" said Sim again. "Why, we shall get owd Joe Banks over to our side. Oh yes, of course he sides with the mesters, he does. He hates trades unions, he does. He says my brotherhood's humbug, and he's too true to his master to side wi' such as me. Ho, ho, ho! I shall hev' you, Joe Banks, and you'll bring the rest. I shall hev' you; and if you ain't enrolled at the Bull before a month's out, my name ain't Simeon Slee."

"Let me see," said Sim, sitting up sedately and brus.h.i.+ng the dirt from his coat, "I've to speak at Churley o' Tuesday. I'll let 'em have it about suthing as 'll fit exact to the case. An' it's a wonderful power is speech. Hey! that it is."

He looked out and listened for a few minutes, and then, all being apparently clear, he placed his knee on the window-sill, slid down the rope, gave it a jerk which set the hook free, caught it nimbly, and rolling the line up, went on preening and brus.h.i.+ng himself still like a rat till he reached the Bull and Cuc.u.mber, where he was received by the party a.s.sembled with a good deal of pot-rattling on the table.

It fell to him, as has been intimated, to make a speech or two that night, for the affairs of the day were largely discussed; and in the course of his delivery he named no names, he said, leastwise he did not say it weer, nor he didn't say it weern't Joe Banks, foreman at the foundry, but what he did say was that there was more unlikely things on the cards than for a certain person to jine their ranks, and become one of a brotherhood of which every man there was proud.

"Well, I don't know so much about that, Sim Slee," said one of the men.

"This here don't seem like the societies that we hear on."

"What do you mean?" said Sim.

"Mean! Why, as instead of our being joined sensible like to get what's reasonable fro' the master, we comes here to hear thee spout."

"That's your ignorance, Peter Thorndike," said Sim. "Yow'd like to be head man pr'haps, and tak' the lead."

"Nay," said the man, "I want to tak' no leads, for I can't talk like thee; but I want what's sensible and raight for both sides, and I don't see as we're agoing to get it by calling ourselves brothers, and takking oaths, and listening to so much o' thy blather."

"Peter Thorndike," said Sim, folding his arms like an image of Napoleon at St Helena, "thou'rt only a child yet, and hast much to learn. Don't I tell thee as afore long Joe Banks 'll be over on our side, and a great time coming for d.i.c.ky Glaire?"

"Yes, you telled me," growled the man, "but I don't know as I believe it. I wants what's fair, and that's what we all wants, eh, lads?"

"Yes, yes," chorused the others. "Then you shall have it," said Sim, raising one hand to speak.

"I' words," said Thorndike, "and they don't make owt to yeat. Sim Slee, your brotherhood's all a sham."

Volume 1, Chapter XI.

MRS GLAIRE'S VICTORY.

Tea had been waiting for some time at the house before Richard Glaire made his appearance--for he had of late insisted upon oversetting the old-fas.h.i.+oned homely customs of his boyhood, and dined late.

The drawing-room looked pleasant, for it was well lighted; the tea-service was bright and handsome: and Eve's hand was visible in many places about the room, where flowers were prettily arranged in vases; in the handsomely-worked cosy which covered the teapot; and in the various pieces of needlework that had grown from her leisure time.

Mrs Glaire, still somewhat upset by the excitement of the day, was lying on a couch, with her face screened from the lamp, whose soft light fell upon Eve as she sat trying to read, but with her thoughts wandering far away. In fact, from time to time she glanced towards the window, and at every sound a bright look of pleasure took that of the anxiety depicted upon her sweet young face.

Then the animation would die out, and she sat apparently listening.

A sigh from the couch aroused her; and, crossing the room, she bent down to tenderly stroke the grey curls back from Mrs Glaire's forehead before kissing her.

"Poor aunty," she cooed; "she does want her tea so badly. Let me give you one--just one little cup."

"No, Eve," said Mrs Glaire; "I'll wait till Richard comes."

"Where can he be?" said Eve, anxiously. "How late he is." Then seeing how her words had impressed her aunt, she hastened to add: "Don't fidget, aunt dear; he's only stopping to have a cigar. He'll soon be here."

"Eve, my child," said Mrs Glaire, who had been brooding over a trouble other than that which had disturbed her during the day, "bring a stool and sit down by me."