The manufacturers who felt themselves or their goods in danger took heart. All eyes at this time were fixed on Marsden. Enoch and James Taylor, who made the new cropping frames, were looked upon as marked men, and Woodbottom mill was fortified as if for a siege; soldiers sleeping in the mill at night. "Arthur Hirst's a main clever chap," said 'Siah, with unwilling admiration. Arthur Hirst was the engineer at Woodbottom. "How so, 'Siah?" I asked. "Why mon he's laid a trap for th' Luds 'at 'll give 'em what for, if they pay a visit to th' Bottom. It's like th' owd nominy, 'walk into my garden said th' arrunder to th' flea.'" "What's the' trap, 'Si?" "Why he leaves a door open that leads ovver th' wheel race; an' there's a false flure ovver th' race, an' if anybody wer' to walk ovver it, it 'ud give way an' souse into th' race he'd go. Then up wi' t' shuttle, in with th' watter, an' in a jiffy th' wheel 'ud be turnin' an' hauf-a-dozen Luds turnin' wi' it, if so be as they be so obligin' as to walk into th' trap." But no one did. Woodbottom was not attacked. The midnight raids became rare, and then ceased, and people went about saying the power of the Luds was broken and that we should hear no more of them. For my part I asked for nothing better. Mary was true to her promise. She went to Low Moor and returned with Faith, a paler, thinner, sadder Faith. And Mary was very kind to her, very gentle with her, which surprised me not a little, for more than once she had been somewhat waspish whenever I had spoken of John's sister. But all that was past and over, and Mary and Faith seemed as thick as thieves. They slept in the same bed, and would go about the place with arms about each other's waists--a pretty picture: Mary in her blue print, with rosy cheeks and plump figure, and dancing eye and saucy speech; Faith in a plain close fitting dress of some black stuff, pale and pensive, with many a sigh and at times a tear of chastened sorrow when her mind fled back to the brother she had lost. Of George Mellor we never spoke, though he was not long absent from the minds of any one of us. Mary put me on my guard. "Yo' thought, Ben, 'at Faith wer' sweet on yo'!" I made haste to disclaim the impeachment. "Now it's no use lying, Ben, yo' six feet o' vanity that ye' are. An' what's more yo' were wi'in an ace o' bein' i' love wi' her." I vowed by all my gods that this was false. "Oh, yo' may swear as hard as yo' like; but aw know ye', Ben. Yo'd gotten into yo'r head 'at it wer' yo'r mission i' life to look after folk i' general an' they'd nowt to do but look ailin' an' pinin' as if they couldn't stick up for theirsen, an' yo' wer' ready to tak' them an' their trouble on them big shoulders o' yo'rn. That wer' th' way thi vanity showed itsen." "I was sorry for Faith, Mary. But bein' sorry an bein' i' love 's two different things."