"I have little to tell. My news is shadowy and undefined, but I fear it is very real." "Well, tell me, man, tell me," said Richard; who, while assuming an air of bravado, began to look white. "I will, Mr Glaire. One of your workmen came secretly to me within the last half-hour to bid you be on your guard." "I haven't been off," said Richard, insolently. "Who was it?" "That I cannot tell you," said the vicar. "The man said he had been sworn to secrecy, but he did not like the business, and came at all risks to tell me." "It was that scoundrel, Tom Podmore," cried Richard. "It was not Podmore," replied the vicar. "Then it was that old villain, Joe Banks--an old hypocrite. Forced his way down the garden to me the other evening to bully me." "Richard, my boy, for heaven's sake," cried Mrs Glaire. "It was not your old foreman, Mr Glaire," said the vicar, quietly. "I have told you all. It is very little, but it may mean much. If you will take my advice you will counteract the people's plans by opening your works to-morrow." "Yes, Richard, do!" exclaimed Mrs Glaire and Eve in a breath. "I said I'd open them on a certain day, and I won't stir a peg from that decision," cried Richard, obstinately. "Whom the gods will destroy, they first make mad," muttered the vicar to himself, in the old Latin. "It would be giving way to them," said Richard, "and that I'll never do." "But you give way when you do open," said the vicar. "I'm not going to argue that," said Richard, haughtily; "I've made up my mind, and I shall keep to it." "Then leave your orders, and go quietly away for a few days, till the works are in full swing again." Richard had made up his mind to do that very thing; but, as the vicar proposed it, and Eve eagerly acquiesced, he was dead against it on the instant. "I shall stay here," he said firmly, "and have the police to guard the house." "It is like inviting attack," said the vicar, excitedly. "For your mother's and Miss Pelly's sake, don't do that. It is throwing down the gauntlet to a set of men maddened by a belief in their wrongs. Many of them are fierce with hunger." "Bah! Stuff!" said Richard; "they've got plenty saved up, and--he, he, he!--nicely they've humbugged you into relieving them with soup and bread and meat. You don't know Dumford yet, Mr Selwood." "If I am to know it as you know it," thought the vicar, "I hope I never shall;" but he did not give utterance to his thoughts. "I shall go--" began Richard; then, insolently--"You won't go and betray me, parson, will you?" The vicar did not reply. "I shall go and stay over at the works, mother," said Richard. "What!" exclaimed Mrs Glaire. "Stay over at the works till the opening day. Let the brutes think I have left the town; and, with a few blankets and some provisions, I shall do. I'll go over to-night." "But, Richard, this is folly," cried Eve, beginning to tremble.