Patience Wins Part 27

He turned upon me quite fiercely, hammer in hand, making me think about Wat Tyler and the tax-gatherer; but he did not strike me: he brought his hammer down upon the anvil with a loud clang.

"Nay," he said; "I nivver touched no bands. It warn't my wuck."

"Well, I never thought it was," I said. "You don't look the sort of man who would be a coward."

"Oh, that's what you think, is it, lad?"

"Yes," I said, seating myself on the bench and stroking the kitten. "A blacksmith always seems to me to be a bold manly straightforward man, who would fight his enemy fairly face to face, and not go in the dark and stab him."

"Ah!" he said; "but I arn't a blacksmith, I'm a white-smith, and work in steel."

"It's much the same," I said thoughtfully; and then, looking him full in the face: "No, Pannell, I don't think you cut the bands, but I feel pretty sure you know who did."

The man's jaw dropped, and he looked quite paralysed for a moment or two. Then half recovering himself he plunged his tongs into the fire, pulled out a sputtering white piece of glowing steel, gave it his regular whirl through the air like a firework, and, instead of banging it on to the anvil, plunged it with a fierce toss into the iron water-trough, and quenched it.

"Why, Pannell!" I cried, "what made you do that?"

He scratched his head with the hand that held the hammer, and stared at me for a few moments, and then down at the black steel that he had taken dripping from the trough.

"Dunno," he said hoa.r.s.ely, "dunno, lad."

"I do," I said to myself as I set down the kitten and went back to join my uncles, who were in consultation in the office.

They stopped short as I entered, and Uncle Bob turned to me. "Well, Philosopher Cob," he said, "what do you say? Who did this cowardly act--was it someone in the neighbourhood, or one of our own men?"

"Yes, who was it?" said Uncle d.i.c.k.

"We are all divided in our opinions," said Uncle Jack.

"One of our own men," I said; "and Pannell the smith knows who it was."

"And will he tell?"

"No. I think the men are like schoolboys in that. No one would speak for fear of being thought a sneak."

"Yes," said Uncle d.i.c.k, "and not only that; in these trades-unions the men are all bound together, as it were, and the one who betrayed the others' secrets would be in peril of his life."

"How are we to find out who is the scoundrel?" I said.

Uncle d.i.c.k shook his head, and did what he always found to be the most satisfactory thing in these cases, set to work as hard as he could, and Uncles Jack and Bob followed his example.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN.

ONLY A GLa.s.s OF WATER.

The keeping watch of a night had now grown into a regular business habit, and though we discovered nothing, the feeling was always upon us that if we relaxed our watchfulness for a few hours something would happen.

The paper stuck on the door was not forgotten by my uncles, but the men went on just as usual, and the workshops were as busy as ever, and after a good deal of drawing and experimenting Uncle d.i.c.k or Uncle Jack kept producing designs for knives or tools to be worked up out of the new steel.

"But," said I one day, "I don't see that this reaping-hook will be any better than the old-fas.h.i.+oned one."

"The steel is better and will keep sharp longer, my lad, but people would not believe that it was in the slightest degree different, unless they had something to see," said Uncle d.i.c.k.

So the men were set to forge and grind the different shaped tools and implements that were designed, and I often heard them laughing and jeering at what they called the "contraps.h.i.+ons."

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

I sat up confused and drowsy, but that soon pa.s.sed off as Uncle Bob laughingly told me, in sham nautical parlance, that all was well on deck; 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 out yet."

I thought to myself that they would tire us out first, as I went down grumpily and disposed to s.h.i.+ver; and then, to thoroughly waken and warm myself, I had a good trot round the big furnace, where the men had tried to fire the powder.

It was circus-horse sort of work, that running round on the black ashes and iron scales, but it warmed me, and as the miserable s.h.i.+very feeling went off I felt brighter and more ready for my task.

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

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

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

I went and looked out at the dam, which was always worth looking at for its reflections of the heavens, but it was perfectly still. There was no raft gliding down towards the building.

Down in the grinders' shop all was still, and in the darkness the different shafts and wheels looked very curious and threatening, so much so that it only wanted a little imagination for one to think that this was some terrible torture chamber, the door at the end leading into the place where the water torment was administered, for the curious musical dripping and plas.h.i.+ng sounded very thrilling and strange in the solemnity of the night.

That place always attracted me, and though there in the darkness I did not care to open the door and look down at the black water, I went and listened, and as I did so it seemed that there was something going on there. Every now and then, came a splash, and then a hurrying as of something being drawn over wet bars of wood. Then there were a series of soft thuds at irregular intervals, and as I listened all this was magnified by imagination, and I was ready to go and call for Uncle Bob to descend when a faint squeaking noise brought me to my senses and I laughed.

"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 that you 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 of the sounds I could hear down by the stonework were made by eels, and, recalling what Gentles had said, I determined that some evening I would have a try for the slimy fellows either down below the great water-wheel or out of the office-window, where I could drop a line into the deepest part of the dam.

Then I went into the smiths' shops and thought about how sulky Pannell had 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 was dreadfully sleepy; and I had another trot with the dog after me in his solid, silent way--for he rarely barked unless it was in anger--but trotted close behind me wherever I might go.

I cannot tell you what a fight I had that night--for it was more like night than morning. I walked fast; I tried all sorts of gymnastic att.i.tudes; 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 as soon as, from utter weariness, I ceased, the horrible drowsiness came on again, and as I walked I actually dreamed that there was a man creeping along 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 off again.