English fiction -- 19th century; Labor unions -- Fiction
“I am glad of that. Well, then, the long and the short is, you showed me
you thought it cowardly to fly from the Trades. You wouldn't, said you,
if you were a man. Well, I'm a man; and I'll do as you would do in my
place. I'll not throw my life away, I'll meet craft with craft, and
force with force; but fly I never will. I'll fight while I've a leg to
stand on.”
With these words he began to work on the bust, in a quiet dogged way
that was, nevertheless, sufficiently expressive.
Grace looked at him silently for half a minute, and then rose from her
chair.
“Then,” said she, “I must go for somebody of more authority than I am.”
She sailed out of the room.
Henry asked Jael who she was gone for.
“It will be her papa,” said Jael.
“As if I care for what he says.”
“I wouldn't show HER that, if I was you,” said Jael, quietly, but with a
good deal of weight.
“You are right,” said Henry. “You are a good girl. I don't know which
is the best, you or Martha. I say, I promised to go to Cairnhope some
Sunday, and see them all. Shall I drive you over?”
“And bring me back at night?”
“If you like. I must come back.”
“I'll ask Miss Carden.”
The words were quiet and composed, but the blushing face beamed with
unreasonable happiness; and Grace, who entered at that moment with her
father, was quite struck with its eloquence; she half started, but
took no further notice just then. “There, papa,” said she, “this is Mr.
Little.”
Mr. Carden was a tall gentleman, with somewhat iron features, but a fine
head of gray hair; rather an imposing personage; not the least
pompous though; quite a man of the world, and took a business view of
everything, matrimony, of course, included.
“Oh, this is Mr. Little, is it, whose work we all admire so much?”
“Yes, papa.”
“And whose adventure has made so much noise?”
“Yes, papa.”
“By-the-bye, there is an article to-day on you: have you seen it? No?
But you should see it; it is very smart. My dear” (to Jael), “will you
go to my study, and bring the Liberal here?”
“Yes, but meantime, I want you to advise him not to subject himself
to more gunpowder and things, but to leave the town; that is all the
wretches demand.”
“And that,” said Henry, with a sly, deferential tone, “is a good deal to
demand in a free country, is it not, sir?”
“Indeed it is. Ah, here comes the Liberal. Somebody read the article to
us, while he works. I want to see how he does it.”
Curiosity overpowered Grace's impatience, for a moment, and she read the
notice out with undisguised interest.
“'THE LAST OUTRAGE.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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