Levi laughed after this sweeping announcement.  It appeared to put him in a good temper.  He even relaxed in the gravity of his prophecies.

“However, life is on the side of youth,” he said, “and you may come to the front some day, if you’ve got enough brains.  Brains is the only thing that’ll save you.  Your mother’s clever and your father’s crafty, so perhaps you’ll go one better than either.  Perhaps, some day, if you wait long enough, you’ll get back on your father, after all.”

“I will wait long enough,” declared Abel.  “I don’t care how long I wait, but I’ll best him, Mister Baggs.”

“You keep in that righteous spirit and you’ll breed a bit of trouble for him some day, I daresay.  And now be off, and if you want to come and see me at work and learn about hackling and the business that ought to be yours but won’t be, then you can drop in again when you mind to.”

“Thank you, sir,” said Abel.  “I will come, and if I say you let me, nobody can stop me.”

“That’s right.  I like brave boys that ain’t frightened of their betters—­so called.”

Then Abel went off, crossed Bride among the sedges and put on his shoes and stockings again.  He had a great deal to think about, and this brief conversation played its part in his growing brain to alter old opinions and waken new ideas.  That he had successfully stormed the hackling shop and found the ogre friendly was, of course, good; but already, and long before he could retail the incident, it began to lose its rare savour.  He perceived this himself dimly, and it made him uncomfortable and troubled.  Something had happened to him; he knew not what, but it dwarfed the operations of the Red Hand, and it even made his personal triumph look smaller than it appeared a little while before.

Abel stared at the Mill while he pulled on his stockings and listened to the bell calling the people back to work.

By right, then, all these wonders should be his some day; but his father would never give them to him now.  He vaguely remembered that his grandmother had said something like this; but it remained for Mr. Baggs to rekindle the impression until Abel became oppressed with its greatness.

He considered the problem gloomily for a long time and decided to talk to his mother about it.  But he did not.  It was characteristic of him that he seldom went to Sabina for any light on his difficulties.  Indeed he attached more importance to Mr. Churchouse’s opinions than his mother’s.  He determined to see Levi Baggs again and, meantime, he let a sense of wrong sink into him.  Here the Band of the Red Hand offered comfort.  It seemed proper to his dawning intelligence that one who had been so badly treated as he, should become the head of the Red Hand.  Yet, as the possible development of the movement occurred to Abel, the child began to share the uneasiness of all conspiracy and feel a weakness inherent in the Band.  Seen from that modest standard of evil-doing