At that moment when, sick with fear and pain, Richard Glaire's legs were failing him, and he was about to sink helpless among his men, something white seemed to whiz by his ear, to be followed instantly by a heavy thud. There was a jerk at his collar, and he would have fallen, but a strong arm was thrown before him; and then it seemed to him that the big workman Harry had staggered back amongst his friends, as a loud voice exclaimed: "Call yourselves Englishmen? A hundred to one!" The new vicar's bold onslaught saved Richard Glaire for the moment, and the men fell back, freeing the foreman as they did so. It was only for the moment though, and then with a yell of fury the excited mob closed in upon their victims. Volume 1, Chapter VI. MOTHER AND SON. Matters looked very bad for the new vicar, and for him he had tried to save, for though the foreman was now ready and free to lend his aid, and Richard Glaire, stung by his position into action, had recovered himself sufficiently to turn with all the feebleness of the trampled worm against his assailants, the fierce wave was ready to dash down upon them and sweep them away. Harry, the big hammerman, had somewhat recovered himself, and was shaking his head as if to get rid of a buzzing sensation, and murmurs loud and deep were arising, when the shrill voice of the man in the red waistcoat arose. "Now, lads, now's your time. Trample down them as is always trampling on you and your rights. Smite 'em hip and thigh." "Come on, and show 'em how to do it," roared a sturdy voice, and Tom Podmore thrust himself before the vicar, and faced the mob. "Come on and show 'em how, Sim Slee; and let's see as you ain't all wind." There was a derisive shout at this, and the man in the red waistcoat began again. "Down with them, boys. Down with Tom Podmore, too; he's a sneak--a rat. Yah!" "I'll rat you, you ranting bagpipe," cried Tom, loudly. "Stand back, lads; this is new parson, and him as touches him has to come by me first. Harry, lad, come o' my side; you don't bear no malice again a man as can hit like that." "Not I," said Harry, thrusting his great head forward, to stare full in the vicar's face. "Dal me, but you are a stout un, parson; gie's your fist. It's a hard un." It was given on the instant, and the hearty pressure told the vicar that he had won a new ally. "As for the governor," cried Tom, "you may do what you like wi' him, lads, for I shan't tak' his part." "Podmore," whispered the vicar, "for Heaven's sake be a man, and help me." "I am a man, parson, and I'll help you like one; but as for him"--he cried, darting a malignant look at Richard Glaire. He did not finish his sentence, for at that moment the man in the red waistcoat mounted a post, and cried again: "Down with 'em, lads; down with--"