"Well, but this grinder does not pretend his stone is safe. All he says is, safe or not, he'll run it out. So now the question is, will you pay four shillings from your box for this blockhead's loss of time in hanging and racing a new stone?"
All the four secretaries opened their eyes with surprise at this.
But Grotait merely said he had no authority to do that; the funds of the Union were set apart for specified purposes.
"Very likely," said Henry, getting warm: "but, when there's life to be TAKEN, your Union can find money irregularly; so why grudge it, when there's life to be saved perhaps, and ten times cheaper than you pay for blood?"
"Young man," said Grotait, severely, "did you come here to insult us with these worn-out slanders?"
"No, but I came to see whether you secretaries, who can find pounds to assassinate men, and blow up women and children with gunpowder, can find shillings to secure the life of one of your own members; he risks it every time he mounts his horsing."
"Well, sir, the application is without precedent, and I must decline it; but this I beg to do as courteously, as the application has been made uncourteously."
"Oh, it is easy to be polite, when you've got no heart."
"You are the first ever brought that charge against me."
"You ought to be ashamed of yourself," said Potter, warmly. "No heart! Mr. Grotait is known for a good husband, a tender father, and the truest friend in Hillsborough."
The others echoed these sentiments warmly and sincerely; for, as strange as it may appear to those who have not studied human nature at first hand, every word of this eulogy was strictly true.
"Thank you, gentlemen," said Grotait. "But we must make allowances.
Mr. Little is smarting under a gross and dastardly outrage, and also under a fair defeat; and thinks his opponents must be monsters. Now I should like to show him the contrary. Let Simmons take care of himself. You have given him good advice, and much to your credit: now have you nothing to say to us, on your own account?"
"Not a word," said Henry, steadily "But suppose I could suggest a way by which you could carry on your trade in Hillsborough, and offend nobody?"
"I should decline to hear it even. You and I are at war on that.
You have done your worst, and I shall do my best to make you all smart for it, the moment I get a chance."
Grotait's cheek reddened with anger at this rebuff, and it cost him an effort to retain his friendly intentions. "Come, come," said he, rather surlily, "don't be in a hurry till you have heard the nature of my proposal. Here, Jess, a quart of the best ale. Now, to begin, let us drink and be comfortable together."
He passed the glass to Little first. But the young man's blood was boiling with his wrongs, and this patronizing air irritated him to boot. He took the glass in his hand, "Here's quick exposure--sudden death--and sure damnation--to all hypocrites and assassins!" He drained the glass to this toast, flung sixpence on the table, and strode out, white with passion himself, and leaving startled faces behind him.
"So be it," said Grotait; and his wicked little eye glittered dangerously.
That same evening, a signal, well known to certain workmen in Hillsborough, peeped in the window of "The Cutlers' Arms." And, in consequence, six or seven ill-conditioned fellows gathered about the doors and waited patiently for further information.
Amongst these was a sturdy fellow of about nine-and-twenty, whose existence was a puzzle to his neighbors. During the last seven years he had worked only eighteen months all together. The rest of the time he had been on the Saw-Grinders' box, receiving relief, viz.: seven shillings and sixpence for his wife, and two shillings for each child; and every now and then he would be seen with three or four sovereigns in his possession.
The name of this masterful beggar, of this invalid in theory, who, in fact, could eat three pounds of steak at a sitting, was Biggs; but it is a peculiarity of Hillsborough to defy baptismal names, and substitute others deemed spicier. Out of the parish register and the records of the police courts, the scamp was only known as Dan Tucker.
This Dan stood, with others, loitering about "The Cutlers' Arms."
Presently out came Grotait, and surveyed the rascally lot. He beckoned to Dan, and retired.
Dan went in after him.
"Drat his luck!" said one of the rejected candidates, "he always gets the job." The rest then dispersed.
Tucker was shown into a pitch-dark room, and there a bargain was struck between him and men unseen. He and two more were to go to Cairnhope, and DO Little. He was to avoid all those men who had lately stood at the door with him, and was to choose for his companions Simmons the grinder, and one Sam Cole, a smooth, plausible fellow, that had been in many a dark job, unsuspected even by his wife and family, who were respectable.
Thus instructed, Tucker went to the other men, and soon reported to Grotait that he had got Cole all right, but that Simmons looked coldly on the job. He was in full work, for one thing, and said Little had had his squeak already, and he didn't see following him eleven miles off; he had, however, asked him whether Little had a wife and children, which question he, Tucker, could not answer.
"But I can," said Grotait. "He is a bachelor. You can tell Simmons so. There are reasons why Ned Simmons must be in this. Try him to-morrow at dinner-time. Bid two pounds more; and--his wife is near her time--tell him this job will help him buy her wine and things," said the kind, parental, diabolical Grotait.
Next morning Henry worked with the pen for Dr. Amboyne till twelve o'clock. He then, still carrying out his friend's views, went down to Mr Cheetham's words to talk to Simmons.
But he found an ill-looking fellow standing by the man's side, and close at his ear. This was no other than Dan Tucker, who by a neat coincidence was tempting him to DO Little.