Peake knew of old, and in other affairs, the wily diplomatic skill of this Sunday School superintendent, and when Mr Blackhurst paused he collected himself for an effort which should conclude the episode at a stroke.

“The fact is,” he said, “I’ve decided that I can’t help you.  It’s no good beating about the bush, and so I tell you this at once.  Mind you, Mr Blackhurst, if there’s anyone in Bursley that I should have liked to oblige, it’s you.  We’ve had business dealings, you and me, for many years now, and I fancy we know one another.  I’ve the highest respect for you, and if you’ll excuse me saying so, I think you’ve some respect for me.  My rule is always to be candid.  I say what I mean and I mean what I say; and so, as I’ve quite made up my mind, I let you know straight off.  I can’t do it.  I simply can’t do it.”

“Of course if you put it that way, if you can’t—­”

“I do put it that way, Mr Blackhurst,” Peake continued quickly, warming himself into eloquence as he perceived the most effective line to pursue.  “I admire your open-handedness.  It’s an example to us all.  I wish I could imitate it.  But I mustn’t.  I’m not one o’ them as rushes out and promises a hundred pound before they’ve looked at their profit and loss account.  Eardleys, for example.  By the way, I’m pleased to hear from Sneyd that you aren’t let in there.  I’m one of the flats.  Three hundred and fifty pound—­that’s my bit; I’m told they won’t pay six shillings in the pound.  Isn’t that a warning?  What right had they to go offering their hundred pound apiece to your organ fund?”

“It was very wrong,” said Mr Blackhurst, severely, “and what’s more, it brings discredit on the Methodist society.”

“True!” agreed Peake, and then, leaning over confidentially, he spoke in a different voice:  “If you ask me, I don’t mind saying that I think that magnificent subscription o’ theirs was a deliberate and fraudulent attempt to inspire pressing creditors with fresh confidence.  That’s what I think.  I call it monstrous.”

Mr Blackhurst nodded slowly, as though meditating upon profound truths ably expressed.

“Well,” Peake resumed, “I’m not one of that sort.  If I can afford to give, I give; but not otherwise.  How do I know how I stand?  I needn’t tell you, Mr Blackhurst, that trade in this district is in a very queer state—­a very queer state indeed.  Outside yourself, and Lovatt, and one or two more, is there a single manufacturer in Bursley that knows how he stands?  Is there one of them that knows whether he’s making money or losing it?  Look at prices; can they go lower?  And secret discounts; can they go higher?  And all this affects the colliery-owners.  I shouldn’t like to tell you the total of my book-debts; I don’t even care to think of it.  And suppose there’s a colliers’ strike—­as there’s bound to be sooner or later—­where shall we be then?”

Mr Blackhurst nodded once more, while Peake, intoxicated by his own rhetoric, began actually to imagine that his commercial condition was indeed perilous.