"There's sure to be lots of people there," he declared, "but we can find a seat at the back quite easily." "What's it all about?" Maraton asked. "The proposed boiler-maker's strike," Aaron replied eagerly. "The meeting is really a meeting of the workpeople at Boulding's. But are you sure you won't go on the platform, sir?" Maraton shook his head. "That is just what I don't want to do. I want to see what these meetings are like, what sort of arguments are used, what the spirit of the people is, if I can. That is what I would really like to find out, Aaron--the spirit of the people." The young man looked up from his work. He was greatly changed during the last few hours. He was wearing a new suit of clothes and clean linen; his hair had been cut, his face shaved. Yet in some respects he was unaltered. His eyes still burned in their sockets, his lips still quivered. "I will tell you what the people are like," he said. "They are like dumb animals, like sheep. They have suffered so long and so much that their nerve power is numbed. They lack will, they lack initiative. They are narrowed down to a daily life which makes of them something little different from an animal. Yet they can be roused. David Ross himself has done it, done it like none of those other M.P.'s. I have seen him carried out of himself. He is like some of these Welshmen and Salvation Army people when they're half drunk with religion--the words seem to come to them in a stream. That's how David Ross is sometimes. But it isn't often any one can get at them." "That is what they say over on the other side," he remarked softly. "They've got to be in such a state," Aaron continued, "that nothing appeals to them except some material benefit; a pipe of tobacco or a mug of beer will stir them more than any dream of freedom. Oh! it's sad to see them, often. I used to go to the gates at the shipbuilding yard and watch them come out. Ten years about does for a man there. It's a short spell." Maraton sighed. "Yet they endure," he muttered to himself. "Yet they endure," Aaron echoed. "Can't you see why? Don't you know that it is because they haven't heard the word--the one great word? That's what they're waiting for--for the prophet to open their eyes and lead them out of the wilderness. Only just at first it may be that even his voice will sound in vain. You are sure you won't mind my sister coming with us, sir? She is so interested and they all know her down there." "It will be an advantage to have your sister," Maraton replied. "There are many things I should like to ask her." CHAPTER IX