The gates of both dwellings were early closed that evening, and the doors well fastened. The ladies were not kept in ignorance of what was expected; for their companions had confidence in their courage, and remembered besides that it would add much to whatever confusion might occur to have consternation within the house, at the same time as tumult without. It must be owned that Mrs. Wallace fell into a reverie more than once while her husband read to her; and that the young ladies at Mr. Bernard’s played their duet more by rote than con amore this night. In all the pauses they listened for shouting or the trampling of feet; and when they had done, their father himself opened the shutters, and looked out and commanded silence. The moon had not risen, and there was no light but from the furnace-fires below, which sent up a red cloud into the sky; and there was no sound but the distant roar and rumble of the works. It was a warm evening, and the family stood for some time at the open window, talking little, but some trying to distinguish the stars through the columns of smoke, and others wondering what would have happened by the same hour the next night, while the little ones kept as quiet as possible in the hope that their papa and Mrs. Sydney would forget to send them to bed. “Father!” cried Frank, “I saw a man leap the hedge,—there,—in that corner.” All had heard the rustling among the shrubs. “Who is there?” demanded Mr. Bernard. “Shut your shutters, Sir, I advise you,” said Jones in a low voice. “They are near, and they should not see your lights as they turn the corner. I ran on first, and Paul is gone with the party to Mr. Wallace’s. I must make haste and join them again before I am missed. I only came to see that you were fast.” “Will they proceed to violence to-night?” asked Mr. Bernard before he closed the window. “No fear if you are decided and civil-spoken; but I won’t answer for so much for to-morrow.” So saying, Jones ran off and climbed the hedge again, that he might drop in at the rear of the party, the glare of whose torches began to appear at the turn of the road. “Upstairs, all of you, and let nobody appear at the windows but my lads and myself,” said Mr. Bernard. “And do not be afraid. You heard that there is no fear of violence to-night.” There was a tremendous knocking and ringing at the door before all the family were up stairs. “What do you want with me?” asked Mr. Bernard, throwing up a sash of the second story. “We want, in the first place, your promise to take to pieces the new machinery, which keeps so many people out of work, and never to use it again without the consent of all parties concerned.” “A reasonable request, truly! I believe there is more to be said, to bring us into the same mind on that point, than can be got through in a short summer’s night.” “Answer us Yes or No,” cried the speaker. “Tell him the conditions,” said the man next to him. “Let him know what he has to expect either way.”