'Come along, Mary Ann,' said Mrs. Quale. 'I told you I'd give you a bed at my house to-night, and I will: so you'll know where she is, Hannah Dunn. You go on down to Cox's, girl; get out as much as you can for the money, and come straight back to me: I'm going home now, and we'll set to work and see the best we can do with the things.' They went out together. But Mrs. Quale opened the door again and put in her head for a parting word; remembering perhaps her want of civility in not having given it. 'Good night to you all. And pleasant dreams--if you can get 'em. You Unionists have brought your pigs to a pretty market.' CHAPTER VIII. A DESCENT FOR MR. SHUCK. Things were coming to a crisis. The Unionists had done their best to hold out against the masters; but they found the effort was untenable--that they must give in at last. The prospect of returning to work was eagerly welcomed by the greater portion of the men. Rather than continue longer in the wretched condition to which they were reduced, they would have gone back almost on any terms. Why, then, not have gone back before? as many asked. Because they preferred to resume work with the consent of the Union, rather than without it: and besides, the privations got worse and worse. A few of the men were bitterly enraged at the turn affairs seemed to be taking--of whom Sam Shuck was chief. With the return of the hands to work, Sam foresaw no field for the exercise of his own peculiar talents, unless it was in stirring up fresh discontent for the future. However, it was not yet finally arranged that work should be resumed: a little more agitation might be pleasant first, and possibly prevent it. 'It's a few white-livered hounds among yourselves that have spoilt it,' growled Sam to a knot of hitherto staunch friends, a day or two subsequent to that conjugal dispute between Mr. and Mrs. Dunn, which we had the gratification of assisting at in the last chapter. 'When such men as White, and Baxendale, and Darby, who have held some sway among you, turn sneaks and go over to the nobs, it's only to be expected that you'll turn sneaks and follow. One fool makes many. Did you hear how Darby got out his tools?' 'No.' 'The men opposed to the Union, opposed to us, heard of his wanting them, and they clubbed together, and made up the tin, and Darby is to pay 'em back so much a-week--two shillings I think it is. Before I'd lie under obligation to the non-Unionist men, I'd shoot myself. What good has the struggle done you?' 'None,' said a voice. 'It have done a good deal of harm.'