"Come on, lad," said one of the men. "We'll just have a drink and then we'll catch the train for Brunford. We've ordered a rare dinner for thee at 'The Black Cow,' and to-night there's goin' to be a meeting in the Primitive Methodist schoolroom in honour of thy return." "Is the strike all over?" asked Paul. "Ay, the strike's all over. The matter's been patched up, and we are making fair brass i' Brunford now." "And what has become of the other chaps?" asked Paul. "You mean the chaps as wur tried with thee? Two on 'em are still i' Brunford; the rest have gone to Canada. We've summat to tell thee about that." "What?" asked Paul. "Weel, you see, they confessed as 'ow 'twere not thee who set 'em on to smashing Wilson's machinery, but that thou didst thy best to stop them, so, I tell thee this, thou art a sort of hero i' Brunford now. It's all over th' place that thou art a sort of martyr, and that thou suffered in their stead, instead of letting on and proving, as thou couldst easily prove, that thou wert agin their plan. Thou just kept quiet, so that they might get off easy, even though thou wert kept longer in quod thysen. The papers have had articles about it, too, and the affair has been called 'A Miscarriage of Justice.'" "The people think I'm not disgraced, then?" said Paul, and there was a flash of eagerness in his eyes. "Disgraced! Nay, it's all t'other way, and I can tell thee this, that many think that Wilson and his son Ned are disgraced for setting on Bolitho to make it hard for thee." "Did they do this?" asked Paul. "Ay, they did an' all. From what we can hear, Bolitho had special instructions to let t'other chaps down easy. It was not hard to do this, because thou art a chap with eddication and brains, and art a bit of a leader, while t'others were nowt but ninnies. Anyhow, the truth's out at last, and nobody i' Brunford will look upon thee as disgraced." In spite of himself Paul could not help being pleased, and he no longer resented the presence of the people who had gathered round the prison gates and who had listened eagerly to what had been said. Rather there was a feeling of triumph in his heart as cheer after cheer was raised. He was thought of as one who fought the battles of the working people, and he had suffered as a consequence No one looked on him as one disgraced, but rather as one who had suffered for their cause. Nevertheless the marks of the prison were still upon his heart. No man could spend six months in Strangeways Gaol as he had spent them, and suffer as he had suffered, without being influenced thereby. The iron had entered his soul, and even kindly words and hearty cheers could not remove from him the fact that he had been treated unjustly, and that his character had been blackened.