"Whose?" he exclaims. "When a lot o' directors--works a feller--till he's--dead beat--till blue lights--and green lights--and red lights--dances afore his eyes--and he don't know what is real--and what is fancy--is he to be made--accountable? Dick Hart--him as had the accident--wouldn't lift his finger--agin man or child--and now he's killed--two or three--and 'll be made--accountable. I never saw--such a face--as his'n--to-night--when the people that was hurt--was brought in. It was as white--as a bit o' chalk. He was hurt as much as them. There was a child among 'em--a little girl"--(his voice breaks here, and his eyes wander to Pollypod)--"they didn't know what--was the matter with her. She breathed--and that was all. Dick Hart--(he's got a little girl hisself, mother--and he wouldn't lift his finger--agin any man)--Dick Hart--he trembles--and cries--when he sees the little thing--a-laying so still--and he whispers to a mate--as how he wishes--some one--'d come and strike him dead--where he stands. As he says this--the little thing's mother--runs in wild-like--and cries, 'Where's the man--as killed my child?' And Dick Hart runs away--on the platform--and jumps on to the rails--scared and mad--and if he hadn't been stopped--would ha' made away--with hisself--somehow. But they stopped him--in time--and brought him back. Another minute--and he'd ha' been cut to pieces--by a train--that was coming in. They had to keep--tight hold on him; for when he was in the room agin--and saw the little girl's--mother--on her knees by the child--he fell a-trembling--and looked more like a animal--than a man." "What will they do to him, Jim?" "The Lord knows! The law's pretty sharp--on us--for don't you see, old woman, the public's got to be protected. Lord save us! As if it was our fault! As if it was us!--the public's got to be--protected from! It's a pretty how-do-you-do--altogether, that's what it is." "I pity his wife as much as him," says Mrs. Podmore, with all a woman's sympathy. "She _is_ to be pitied. She's near her confinement, too--poor creature!--and Dick, he's out of a billet now--and hasn't got anything--put by. I tell you what it is, old woman--it's hard lines--that's what it is--hard lines!" "But the Company'll see to her, Jim, surely!"