The Parson O' Dumford Part 85

"What time weer it to be, lad?" whispered Harry.

"I don't know," said Tom hoa.r.s.ely; "they've kept that to their sens."

"But owd Joe Banks is going to do it, isn't he?"

"Yes, yes; but come along quick."

They reached the gate, but there was no sign of Daisy Banks; all was closed, and to all appearance the place had not been opened for days.

"Theer, I telled ye so," growled Harry; "she didn't come this waya at all. She's gone home."

"How long would it take us to go?" whispered Tom, who now began to think it possible that Daisy had gone in search of her father.

"Get down theer i' less than ten minutes, lad, back waya," replied Harry; "come along."

Tom tried the gates once more, and then looked down the side alley, but all was still.

"If she has been here, she can't have stayed," he said to himself.

"Here, quick, Harry, come on, and we may find Joe Banks, too."

"And if we do, what then?" growled the hammerman.

"We must stop him--hold him--tie his hands--owt to stay him fro' doing this job."

"I'm wi' ye, lad," said Harry, "he'll say thanky efterward. If I get a good grip o' him he wean't want no bands."

The two men started off at a race, and as they disappeared Daisy crept out of the opposite door-way, where she had been crouching down, and then tried the gates.

All fast, and she dare not ring the big bell, but stood listening for a moment or two, and then ran swiftly along the wall, and down the side alley to the door that admitted to the counting-house--the alley where her interview with Richard Glaire had been interrupted by the coming of Tom Podmore.

She reached the door and tried the handle, giving it a push, when, to her great joy, she found it yield, and strung up to the pitch of doing anything by her intense excitement, she stepped into the dark entry, the door swinging to behind her, and she heard it catch.

Then for a few minutes she stood still, holding her hand to her heart, which was beating furiously. At last, feeling that she must act, she felt her way along the wall to the counting-house door, looking in to find all still and dark, and then she cried in a low voice, "Father--Mr Richard--are you here?"

No response, and she went to the door leading into the yard, to find it wide open and all without in the great place perfectly still and dark, while the great heaps of old metal and curiously-shaped moulds and patterns could just be made out in the gloom.

A strange feeling of fear oppressed her, but she fought it back bravely, and went on, avoiding the rough ma.s.ses in the path, and going straight to the chief door of the great works.

The place was perfectly familiar to her, for she had as a child often brought her father's dinner, and been taken to see the engines, furnaces, and large lathes, with the other weird-looking pieces of machinery, which in those days had to her young eyes a menacing aspect, and seemed as if ready to seize and destroy the little body that crept so cautiously along.

Entering the place then bravely, she went on through the darkness, with outstretched hands, calling softly again and again the name of Richard Glaire or her father. Several times, in spite of her precautions, she struck herself violently against pieces of metal that lay about, or came in contact with machinery or brickwork; but she forgot the pain in the eagerness of her pursuit till she had convinced herself that no one could be on the bas.e.m.e.nt floor.

Then seeking the steps, she proceeded to the floor above, calling in a low whisper from time to time as she went on between the benches, and past the little window that looked down on the alley, which had afforded Sim Slee a means of entry when the bands were destroyed.

No one on this floor; and with a s.h.i.+ver, begotten of cold and dread, she proceeded to the steps leading to the next floor, which she searched in turn, ending by going to the third--a repet.i.tion of those below.

"There is no one here," she said to herself at last; "unless he is asleep."

She shuddered at this; and now, with the chilly feeling growing stronger each moment, she made her way amongst the benches and wood-work of this place, which was the pattern shop, and reached the top of the stairs, where she paused; and then, not satisfied, feeling that this was the most likely place for a man to be in hiding, she went over this upper floor again.

As she searched, the clock at the church struck eleven, and its tones sent a thrill through her, they sounded so solemn; but directly after, with the tears falling fast, as the old clock bell brought up happy recollections of the past, she began to descend; but was not half-way down before she heard footsteps, and her name p.r.o.nounced in an eager whisper--

"Daisy--Daisy!"

She stopped short, trembling with dread. It was Richard Glaire, the man who had had such influence over her, and whom she had told herself that she loved so well. But this feeling of fear that she suffered now could not be love; she knew that well: and during her late seclusion she had learned to look upon the young man's actions in a new light. His mother's words to her had taken root, and she knew now that his intentions towards her had only been to make her the plaything of the hour of his fleeting liking; and the girl's face flushed, and her teeth were set, as once again she asked herself why had she been so weak and vain as to believe this man.

"Daisy--Daisy--Daisy Banks, are you here?" came in a loud whisper; and still she did not move, but her heart fluttered, and her breath was drawn painfully.

No: she did not care for him now, she felt. It was a dream--a silly love dream, and she had awakened a wiser, stronger girl than she was before.

"Stronger!" she thought; "and yet I stand here afraid to speak, afraid to move, when I have come to save him perhaps from a horrible death. I will speak:"

She stopped again, for a terrible thought oppressed her. She must not betray her father. He might even now be coming to the place, if it was true that he was to blow up the works--he might even now be here, and the explosion--Oh, it was too horrible; she dared not speak even now: she dared not stay. She was not so brave as she thought, and she must fly from the place, or try to meet her father. Not Richard Glaire; she could not--dare not meet him again; for she feared him still, even though she told herself that she was strong. A strange feeling of faintness came over her, all seemed to swim round--and had she not clutched at the handrail, her feelings would have been too much for her, and she would have fallen headlong to the foot of the steep flight.

As it was, she uttered a faint cry, and it betrayed her presence.

"I knew you were here," cried Richard Glaire, hurriedly ascending the stairs; "why, Daisy, my little bird, at last--at last. Where have you been?"

"Then you are safe yet," she gasped, as he caught her in his arms, though she repulsed him.

"Safe; yes, my little beauty. I found you had been at the house, and they said you were here--come to look for me. Why, Daisy, this meeting makes up for all my misery since you have been gone."

Daisy wrenched herself from his arms, exclaiming pa.s.sionately--

"I came to save you and others, Mr Glaire, and you act like this.

Quick, get away from this place. Your life is in danger."

"I have heard that tale, my dear," he said, "till I am tired of it."

"I tell you," cried Daisy, as he tried to clasp her again, and she struggled with him; "I tell you there is a plot against you, and that you must go. This place is not safe. You have not a moment to lose."

"Why," said Richard, holding her in spite of her struggles; "did you not come to see me and comfort me for being in hiding here?"

"No, no," cried Daisy, trying to free herself; "I came to warn you. Oh, sir, this is cowardly."

"Come, Daisy, my little one, why are you struggling? You used not."

"No," cried the girl, angrily; "not when I was a silly child and believed you."

"Come, that's unkind," said Richard, laughing. "Where have you been, eh? But there, I know."

"I tell you, Mr Richard, you are in danger."

"Pooh! what danger? We're safe enough here, Daisy, and no one will interrupt us."

"I cannot answer questions," said Daisy.

"Oh, pray, pray let us go. I came to save you."