Patience Wins Part 57

"That I have not," I cried.

"Ay, but you did say it," he repeated fiercely.

"I did not say so," I cried almost as angrily; "but if I had said it, I don't suppose I should have been far wrong."

"Nay, lad, I did nowt to the dog. I did nowt--I--"

He let his hand fall, and a feeling of relief from some expectation came over his face. He had been talking to me, but it was in a curious way, and all the time he talked he seemed to be looking over my shoulder more than in my face.

But now he drew a long breath and seemed satisfied with the explanation; and just then I uttered a cry of horror, for there was a loud report, and the yard seemed to be filled with flying cinders and smoke.

Stevens gave me a grim look and laid his hand on my shoulder.

"Lucky yow weern't theer," he said. "Might have been hurt. Come and see."

We joined the men who were hurrying in the direction of the smoke that obscured one end of the yard.

"What is it, Uncle Jack?" I cried, as I ran to his side.

"I don't know yet," he said.

"It was somewhere by the smithies."

"Yes; that's plain enough," said my uncle, and we pressed on in front of the men, to come upon Pannell, tending down and rubbing his eyes.

"Pannell!" I cried; "you are not hurt?"

"Nay, not much," he said sourly. "Got the cinder and stuff in my eyes, but they missed me this time."

"What! Was it not an accident?"

"Oh, ay!" he replied, "reg'lar accident. Powder got into my little forge, and when I started her wi' some hot coal from t'other one she blew up."

"But you are not hurt?"

"Nay, lad, I weer stooping down, and were half behind the forge, so I didn't ketch it that time."

The smoke was by this time pretty well cleared away, and we walked into the smithy to see what mischief had befallen us.

Fortunately no harm had been done to the structure of the building, and there being no gla.s.s in the windows there was of course none to blow out. The coal ashes and cinders had been scattered far and wide, and the iron funnel-shaped chimney knocked out of place, while some of the smiths' tools, and the rods of steel upon which Pannell had been working, were thrown upon the floor.

The walls, forge, and pieces of iron about told tales for themselves without the odour of the explosive, for everything had been covered with a film of a greyish-white, such as gunpowder gives to iron or brickwork when it is fired.

"Where was the powder?" cried Uncle Jack, after satisfying himself that Pannell had not the slightest burn even upon his beard.

"In little forge all ready for me when I fired up," growled Pannell sourly, as he scowled round at the little crowd of men; "but they missed me that time."

Uncle Jack had a good look round the place, and the workmen stared at us as if in full expectation of being taken to task as the cause of the explosion.

I watched their faces cautiously in search of a look of regret, but the only peculiar expression I could see was on the countenance of Stevens, who stood softly rolling up his s.h.i.+rt-sleeves closer and closer to his shoulders, and there was such a curious smile in his eyes that he inspired me with a thought.

"Oh, if I have been deceived in him!"

That was my thought. For I seemed to see at a glance that he had known the explosion would take place, and that the talk about the dog was an excuse to get me away and save me from the consequences.

Just then Uncle Jack turned round to me and laid his hand on my shoulder.

"Look here," he said quietly, as if he were showing me a curiosity, but loud enough for all the men to hear--"down in the south of England, my boy, when a workman is disliked it generally comes to a settlement with fists, and there is a fair, honest, stand-up fight. Down here in Arrowfield, Jacob, when another workman does something to offend his fellows--"

"Traade," shouted a voice.

"To offend his fellow-workmen," repeated Uncle Jack.

"Traade," shouted the voice again, and there was a murmur of a.s.sent.

"Well, have it your own way," said Uncle Jack. "To offend the trade, they try to blind him for life by filling his forge with powder, so that it may explode in his face. Jacob, my lad, next time I go anywhere, and hear people talk about what brave strong manly fellows the Englishmen are, I shall recommend them to come down and stay in Arrowfield for a month and see what is done."

There was a low murmur among the men; but we did not stop to listen, and they all returned to their work except Pannell, who went down to the dam and bathed his eyes, after which he went as coolly as could be back to his smithy, took a shovel and borrowed some glowing fire from the next forge, lit up his own, and was soon after hammering his funnel chimney back in its place, and working up rods of steel as if nothing whatever had been amiss.

About the middle of the afternoon, though, he came up through the workshop straight to the office, with his hammer in his hand, and gave a loud thump at the door.

I opened it and admitted him; for I was in the big office with my uncles, who were talking about this last trouble.

"Well, my man, what is it?" said Uncle Jack.

Pannell began to lift up his hammer-head slowly and let it fall back again into his left hand, staring straight before him with his dark eyes, which were surrounded with the black marks of the gunpowder which clung still to the skin.

"What do you want, Pannell?" I said, giving him a touch on the arm; but the hammer rose and fell still by the contraction of his right hand, and went on tap--tap--falling into his left.

"Why don't you speak?" I said again, quite impatiently.

"I know," he growled. "I want to speak."

"We are listening," said Uncle d.i.c.k. "What have you to say?"

"Look here," cried Pannell, giving his hammer a flourish round his head as if he were about to attack us. "I'm a man--I am."

"And a good big one, Pannell," said Uncle Bob smiling.

"Wish I were twyste as big, mester! Theer!" cried Pannell.

"I wish you were if it would be any comfort to you," said Uncle Bob to himself.

"I've been a-thinking o' this out while I've been hammering yonder, and I want to speak."

"Yes," said Uncle Jack. "Go on."

"Look ye here, then," cried Pannell, flouris.h.i.+ng his hammer round as if he were a modern edition or an angry Thor; "does anyone say I telled on 'em? Did I tell on 'em, mesters? Answer me that."