'I tell you what,' was George Truman's answer, 'them machines are the captain's, none of yours nor mine, and I won't go for to damage 'em. No! I won't have my face blacked nor whited, I'm an honest man, and not ashamed to show it. So I be going to my work.'
And off he went to his day's work at Farmer Goodenough's, and the others hissed him and hooted him, but did him no harm. Nobody made such a noise as Softy Sam, and together this frightened Jem Gibbs out of following him, though he much wished to do so. Will Mole, as soon as he heard any sounds, ran away headlong down towards the meadows, and hid himself in the long rushes. Cox, the constable, thought discretion the better part of valour; and long before the rabble rout appeared, set off to carry a pair of shoes home to Mrs Pearson at the Lone Farm.
Master Hewlett, the carpenter, looked in vain for John, his apprentice, and growled and grumbled that he did not appear; then, on perceiving the uproar, decided that he was gone after that 'there father of his'n.' He wouldn't have thought it of Jack. No; he wouldn't; but sure enough it was 'bred in the bone of him!' Master Hewlett went on with his planing; and when the troop, now amounting to about thirty grown men, besides a huge rabble of boys and girls, came along, and Dan shouted to him to come and stand up for the rights of the people, and down with that there 'tyrum Gobbleall' and his machine to grind down the poor, he answered-
'Machine ain't nothing to me. I minds my own business, and thou beest a fool, Dan, not to mind thine! And where's that lad of thine? A trapesing after mischief, just like all idle fellows?'
'He bain't a labourer, and has no feeling for them as is,' said Dan. 'We wants your axe, though, George.'
'Not he! I dares you to touch him,' said George Hewlett in his unmoved way, smoothing off a long curled shaving, which fell on the ground. 'There, that's the worth of you all and your Jack Swing! Swing, ye will, Dan, if you don't take the better care.'
Some one made a move as if to seize the axe, but George made one step, and lifted quietly the stout bit of timber he had been planing, and it was plain that a whole armoury of carpenter's tools was on his side the bench.
'Come along,' said Dan, 'he's a coward and mean-spirited cur. Us shan't do nothing with he.'
So on they went, all the kindnesses and benefits from Greenhow forgotten, and nothing remembered at the moment but grievances, mostly past, but more looked forward to as possible!
The women did remember. Judith Grey was in an agony, praying as she lay for Mrs Carbonel and the children. Widow Mole knew nothing, but was weeding the paths at Greenhow; Betsy Seddon and Molly Barnes were crying piteously 'at thought of madam and her little girl as might be fraught to death by them there rascals.' But no one knew what to do! Some stayed at home, in fear for their husbands, but a good many followed in the wake of the men, to see what would happen, and to come in for a little excitement-whether it were fright, pity, or indignation.
''Pon my word and honour,' said Lizzy Morris, 'that there will be summat to talk on.'
CHAPTER TWENTY TWO. GREAT MARY AND LITTLE MARY.
'Who'll plough their fields? Who'll do their drudgery for them? And
work like horses to give them the harvest?'-
Mrs Carbonel, having seen her two little ones laid down for their midday nap, was sitting down to write a note to her husband, while Sophia was gone to give her lesson at the school, when there came a tap to the drawing- room window, and looking up she saw Tirzah Todd's brown face and her finger making signs to her. She felt displeased, and rose up, saying, 'Why, Tirzah, if you want me, you had better come to the back door!'
'Lady, you must come out this way. 'Tis Jack Swing a-coming, ma'am- yes, he is-with a whole lot of mischievous folks, to break the machine and burn the ricks, and what not. Hush, don't ye hear 'em a hollering atop of the hill? They be gathering at the `Fox and Hounds,' and I just couldn't abear that you and the dear little children should be scared like, and the captain away. So,' as Mrs Carbonel's lips moved in thanks and alarm, 'if you would come with me, lady, and take the children, and come out this way, through the garden, where you wouldn't meet none of 'em, I'll take you down the short way to Farmer Pearson's, or wherever you liked, where you wouldn't hear nothing till 'tis over.'
'Oh, Tirzah! You are very good. A fright would be a most fearful shock, and might be quite fatal to my little Mary. But oh, my sister and the servants and the Pucklechurches, I can't leave them.'
'My Hoggie was at home with the baby, and I sent her off to see Miss Sophy at the school, and tell her to come up to Pearson's.'
'But the Pucklechurches?'
'Nobody will hurt them! Nobody means to hurt you,' said Tirzah, 'I knows that! My man wouldn't ha' gone with them, but so as they promised faithful not to lay a finger on you, so you give 'em the money and the guns; but men don't think of the dear little gal as is so nesh, so I thought I'd warn you to have her out of the way. Bless my heart, they'll be coming. That was nigher.'
Mrs Carbonel's mind went through many thoughts in those few moments. She could not bear to desert her husband's property and people in this stress, and yet she knew that to expose her tender little girl to the terrors of a violent mob would be fatal. And she decided on accepting Tirzah's offer of safety and shelter. She ran upstairs, put on her bonnet, took her husband's most essential papers out of his desk and pocketed them, together with some sovereigns and bank-notes, then quietly went into the nursery, where she desired Rachel Mole to put on her bonnet, take up the baby, and follow her, and herself was putting on little Mary's small straw hat and cape, telling her that she was coming with mamma for a walk to see Mrs Pearson's old turkey cock, when Mrs Pucklechurch burst in with two or three maids behind her.
'Oh, ma'am, Jack Swing's coming and all the rabble rout. What ever shall we do?' was the gasping, screaming cry.
'Only be quiet. There's nothing for any one to fear. If they do harm, it is to things, not people. I only go away for the sake of this child! No, Mary dear, nobody will hurt you. You are going for a nice early walk with mamma and baby and Rachel. You,'-to the maids-'may follow if you will feel safer so, but I do not believe there is any real danger to you. Betty Pucklechurch, please tell your husband that I do beg him not to resist. It would be of no use, his master would not wish it, only if he will take care that the poor cattle and horses come to no harm.'
'He have gone to drive 'em off already to Longacre,' said Betty. 'I tell'd he, he'd better stand by master's goods, but he be a man for his cows, he be.'
'Quite right of him,' said Mrs Carbonel. 'Have you baby's bottle, Rachel? Now, Mary dear, here's your piece of seed cake.'
The shouts and singing sounded alarmingly as if approaching by this time, and little Mary listened and said, 'Funny mens singing.'
It was very loud as the fugitives gained the verandah, where Tirzah waited with an angry light in her black eyes. 'Oh! won't I give it to Joe Todd,' she cried, 'for turning against the best friend Hoglah ever had-or me either.'
Mary, carrying her little Mary, and trying to keep a smile that might reassure her, followed Tirzah across the orchard on the opposite side of the house. They had to scramble through a gap in the hedge; Tirzah went over first, breaking it down further, then the baby was put into her arms, and Rachel came next, receiving Mary from her mother, who was telling her how funny it was to get over poor papa's fence, all among the apple trees, and here was Don jumping after them. Don, the Clumber spaniel, wanted a bit of Mary's cake, and this and her mother's jump down from the hedge and over the ditch, happily distracted her attention, and made her laugh, while the three maids were screaming that here were the rascals, hundreds of them a-coming up the drive; they saw them over the apple trees when on the top of the hedge, and heard their horrid shouts. 'Oh, the nasty villains, with black faces and all!'
Mrs Carbonel dreaded these cries almost as much as the mob itself for her delicate child, and went on talking to her and saying all the nursery rhymes that would come into her head, walking as fast as she could without making her pace felt, though the little maid-albeit small and thin for five years old-was a heavy weight to carry for some distance over a rough stubble field for unaccustomed arms. Tirzah had the baby, who happily was too young to be even disturbed in his noontide sleep, and Rachel Mole had tarried with the other maids, unable to resist her curiosity to see what was doing at the farm since they were out of reach.
The fugitives reached a stile which gave entrance to a rough pathway, through a copse, and it was only here, when her mother sat down on the trunk of a tree taking breath with a sense of safety, that little Mary began to cry
