George now had time to look about him.  He found that the enemy, whoever they might be, had been beaten off, and the crew of the Fairburn brig was in possession of the landing-stage.

“What is it all about, Jack?” he inquired of the man to whose rescue he had come.

“Why,” returned Jack, “they are some of Blackett’s men.  They tried to shove us from our berth here, after we had made fast, and bring in their big schooner over there.  Some of ’em are vexed, ’cos ’tis said there’ll be no work for ’em soon.  Your father’s taking a lot of Blackett’s trade, you see.”

“Did they begin, Jack, or did you?”

“Begin?  Why, it was a kind of mixed-up job, I reckon.  We’d both had a drop of Christmas ale, you see—­a drop extra, I mean—­and—­why, there it was.”

“Well, you’ll be sailing for London in a day or two,” said George.  “See that you keep out of the way of Blackett’s men, or you’ll find yourself in the lock-up and lose your place.”

Then he walked away.

Mr. Fairburn was annoyed when he heard of the incident.

“I don’t like it, George,” he said.  “There’s no reason why there should be bad blood between Blackett’s men and mine; but if they are going to make disturbances like this I shall have to take serious steps, and the coolness between Blackett and me will become an open enmity.  ‘As much as lieth in you,’ says the Apostle, ’live peaceably with all men;’ but there’s a limit, and if Mr. Blackett can’t keep his men in order, it will come to a fight between us.”

The brig started in a couple of days for London, in fulfilment of an important contract that had for years fallen to Mr. Blackett, but now had been placed in the hands of his humbler but more energetic rival.  Its departure was hailed by the shouts and threats of a gang of pitmen from the Blackett colliery, but nothing like another fight occurred, thanks to the vigilance of Fairburn the elder.

CHAPTER II

THE ATTACK ON THE COLLIERY

Not often has Europe been in a greater state of unrest than it was at the time this story opens.  James II, the exiled King of England, had lately died in his French home, and his son, afterwards famous as the Old Pretender, had been acknowledged as the new English king by Louis XIV of France, to the joy of the many Jacobites England still contained, but to the dismay of the majority of Englishmen.  There was likely to be dire trouble also respecting the vacant throne of Spain.  There had been originally three candidates for the throne of the weakling Charles, not long dead—­Philip of Anjou, whose claims had the powerful support of his grandfather, the ambitious Louis; Charles, the second son of the Emperor Leopold of Austria; and Joseph, the Electoral Prince of Bavaria.  But the last mentioned had died, leaving the contest to Philip and Charles, the French and Austrian claimants.