Sybil, or the Two Nations Part 54

"Yes," said Lady St Julians. "I think those men who breakfast out or who give breakfasts are generally dangerous characters; at least, I would not trust them. The whigs are very fond of that sort of thing. If Mr Egremont joins them, I really do not see what shadow of a claim Lady Deloraine can urge to have anything."

"She only wants one thing," said Lady Firebrace, "and we know she cannot have that."

"Why?"

"Because Lady St Julians will have it."

"You are too kind," with many smiles.

"No, I a.s.sure you Lord Masque told me that her Majesty--" and here Lady Firehrace whispered.

"Well," said Lady St Julians evidently much gratified, "I do not think I am one who am likely to forget my friends."

"That I am sure you are not!" said Lady Firebrace.

Book 5 Chapter 8

Behind the printing office in the alley at the door of which we left Sybil, was a yard which led to some premises that had once been used as a work-shop, but were now generally unoccupied. In a rather s.p.a.cious chamber over which was a loft, five men, one of whom was Gerard, were busily engaged. There was no furniture in the room except a few chairs and a deal table, on which was a solitary light and a variety of papers.

"Depend upon it," said Gerard, "we must stick to the National Holiday: we can do nothing effectively, unless the movement is simultaneous. They have not troops to cope with a simultaneous movement, and the Holiday is the only machinery to secure unity of action. No work for six weeks, and the rights of Labour will be acknowledged!"

"We shall never be able to make the people unanimous in a cessation of labour," said a pale young man, very thin but with a countenance of remarkable energy. "The selfish instincts will come into play and will baulk our political object, while a great increase of physical suffering must be inevitable."

"It might be done," said a middle-aged, thickset man, in a thoughtful tone. "If the Unions were really to put their shoulder to the wheel, it might be done."

"And if it is not done," said Gerard, "what do you propose? The people ask you to guide them. Shrink at such a conjuncture, and our influence over them is forfeited and justly forfeited."

"I am for partial but extensive insurrections," said the young man.

"Sufficient in extent and number to demand all the troops and yet to distract the military movements. We can count on Birmingham again, if we act at once before their new Police Act is in force; Manchester is ripe; and several of the cotton towns; but above all I have letters that a.s.sure me that at this moment we can do anything in Wales."

"Glamorgans.h.i.+re is right to a man," said Wilkins a Baptist teacher. "And trade is so bad that the Holiday at all events must take place there, for the masters themselves are extinguis.h.i.+ng their furnaces.

"All the north is seething," said Gerard.

"We must contrive to agitate the metropolis," said Maclast, a shrewd carroty-haired paper-stainer. "We must have weekly meetings at Kennington and demonstrations at White Conduit House: we cannot do more here I fear than talk, but a few thousand men on Kennington Common every Sat.u.r.day and some spicy resolutions will keep the Guards in London."

"Ay, ay," said Gerard; "I wish the woollen and cotton trades were as bad to do as the iron, and we should need no holiday as you say, Wilkins.

However it will come. In the meantime the Poor-law pinches and terrifies, and will make even the most spiritless turn."

"The accounts to-day from the north are very encouraging though," said the young man. "Stevens is producing a great effect, and this plan of our people going in procession and taking possession of the churches very much affects the imagination of the mult.i.tude."

"Ah!" said Gerard, "if we could only have the Church on our side, as in the good old days, we would soon put an end to the demon tyranny of Capital."

"And now," said the pale young man, taking up a ma.n.u.script paper, "to our immediate business. Here is the draft of the projected proclamation of the Convention on the Birmingham outbreak. It enjoins peace and order, and counsels the people to arm themselves in order to secure both. You understand: that they may resist if the troops and the police endeavour to produce disturbance."

"Ay, ay," said Gerard. "Let it be stout. We will settle this at once, and so get it out to-morrow. Then for action."

"But we must circulate this pamphlet of the Polish Count on the manner of encountering cavalry with pikes," said Maclast.

"'Tis printed," said the stout thickset man; "we have set it up on a broadside. We have sent ten thousand to the north and five thousand to John Frost. We shall have another delivery tomorrow. It takes very generally."

The pale young man read the draft of the proclamation; it was canva.s.sed and criticised sentence by sentence; altered, approved: finally put to the vote, and unanimously carried. On the morrow it was to be posted in every thoroughfare of the metropolis, and circulated in every great city of the provinces and populous district of labour.

"And now," said Gerard, "I shall to-morrow to the north, where I am wanted. But before I go I propose, as suggested yesterday, that we five together with Langley, whom I counted on seeing here to-night, now form ourselves into a committee for arming the people. Three of us are permanent in London; Wilkins and myself will aid you in the provinces.

Nothing can be decided on this head till we see Langley, who will make a communication from Birmingham that cannot be trusted to writing. The seven o'clock train must have long since arrived. He is now a good hour behind his time."

"I hear foot-steps," said Maclast.

"He comes," said Gerard.

The door of the chamber opened and a woman entered. Pale, agitated, exhausted, she advanced to them in the glimmering light.

"What is this?" said several of the council.

"Sybil!" exclaimed the astonished Gerard, and he rose from his seat.

She caught the arm of her father, and leant on him for a moment in silence. Then looking up with an expression that seemed to indicate she was rallying her last energies, she said, in a voice low yet so distinct that it reached the ear of all present, "There is not an instant to lose: fly!"

The men rose hastily from their seats; they approached the messenger of danger; Gerard waved them off, for he perceived his daughter was sinking. Gently he placed her in his chair; she was sensible, for she grasped his arm, and she murmured--still she murmured--"fly!"

"'Tis very strange," said Maclast.

"I feel queer!" said the thickset man.

"Methinks she looks like a heavenly messenger," said Wilkins. "I had no idea that earth had anything so fair," said the youthful scribe of proclamations.

"Hush friends!" said Gerard: and then he bent over Sybil and said in a low soothing voice, "Tell me, my child, what is it?"

She looked up to her father; a glance as it were of devotion and despair: her lips moved, but they refused their office and expressed no words. There was a deep silence in the room.

"She is gone," said her father.

"Water," said the young man, and he hurried away to obtain some.

"I feel queer," said his thickset colleague to Maclast.

"I will answer for Langley as for myself." said Maclast; "and there is not another human being aware of our purpose."

"Except Morley."

"Yes: except Morley. But I should as soon doubt Gerard as Stephen Morley."

"Certainly."