He looked out and listened for a few minutes, and then, all being apparently clear, he placed his knee on the window-sill, slid down the rope, gave it a jerk which set the hook free, caught it nimbly, and rolling the line up, went on preening and brushing himself still like a rat till he reached the Bull and Cucumber, where he was received by the party assembled with a good deal of pot-rattling on the table. It fell to him, as has been intimated, to make a speech or two that night, for the affairs of the day were largely discussed; and in the course of his delivery he named no names, he said, leastwise he did not say it weer, nor he didn't say it weern't Joe Banks, foreman at the foundry, but what he did say was that there was more unlikely things on the cards than for a certain person to jine their ranks, and become one of a brotherhood of which every man there was proud. "Well, I don't know so much about that, Sim Slee," said one of the men. "This here don't seem like the societies that we hear on." "What do you mean?" said Sim. "Mean! Why, as instead of our being joined sensible like to get what's reasonable fro' the master, we comes here to hear thee spout." "That's your ignorance, Peter Thorndike," said Sim. "Yow'd like to be head man pr'haps, and tak' the lead." "Nay," said the man, "I want to tak' no leads, for I can't talk like thee; but I want what's sensible and raight for both sides, and I don't see as we're agoing to get it by calling ourselves brothers, and takking oaths, and listening to so much o' thy blather." "Peter Thorndike," said Sim, folding his arms like an image of Napoleon at St Helena, "thou'rt only a child yet, and hast much to learn. Don't I tell thee as afore long Joe Banks 'll be over on our side, and a great time coming for Dicky Glaire?" "Yes, you telled me," growled the man, "but I don't know as I believe it. I wants what's fair, and that's what we all wants, eh, lads?" "Yes, yes," chorused the others. "Then you shall have it," said Sim, raising one hand to speak. "I' words," said Thorndike, "and they don't make owt to yeat. Sim Slee, your brotherhood's all a sham." Volume 1, Chapter XI. MRS GLAIRE'S VICTORY. Tea had been waiting for some time at the house before Richard Glaire made his appearance--for he had of late insisted upon oversetting the old-fashioned homely customs of his boyhood, and dined late. The drawing-room looked pleasant, for it was well lighted; the tea-service was bright and handsome: and Eve's hand was visible in many places about the room, where flowers were prettily arranged in vases; in the handsomely-worked cosy which covered the teapot; and in the various pieces of needlework that had grown from her leisure time.