Daniel was silent, but his face flushed.

“Don’t jump to the conclusion it’s true,” urged the foreman.  “Hear both sides before you do anything about it.”

“I know it’s true.”

Mr. Best did not answer.

“And you know it’s true,” continued the younger.

“What everybody says nobody should believe,” ventured Best.  “What happened was this—­Sabina came in on Saturday afternoon, when I was working in my garden, and gave notice.  Not a month, but to go right away.  Of course I asked her why, but she wouldn’t tell me.  She was as happy as a lark about it, and what she said was that I’d know the reason very soon and be the first to congratulate her.  Of course, I thought she was going to be married.  And still I hope she is.  That’s all you can take for truth.  The rest is rumour.  You can guess how a place like this will roll it over their tongues.”

“I’ll go and see Mister Churchouse.”

“Do, sir.  You can trust him to be charitable.”

Daniel departed; but he did not see Ernest Churchouse.  The antiquary was not at home and, instead, he heard Mrs. Dinnett, who poured the approximate truth into his ears with many tears.  His brother had promised to marry Sabina, but on hearing the girl was with child, had apparently refused to keep his engagement.

Then it was Daniel Ironsyde’s turn to lose his temper.  He drove straight to North Hill House, found his brother in the garden with Estelle Waldron, took him aside and discharged him from the Mill.

Raymond had been considering the position and growing a little calmer.  With a return of more even temper, he had written to Miss Ironsyde and promised to be with her on the following evening without fail.  He had begged her to keep an open mind so far as he was concerned and he hoped that when the time came, he might be able to trust to her lifelong friendship.  What he was going to say, he did not yet know; but he welcomed the brief respite and was in a good temper when his brother challenged him.

The attack was direct, blunt and even brutal.  It burst like a thunder-bolt on Raymond’s head, staggered him, and then, of course, enraged him.

“I won’t keep you,” said Daniel.  “I only want to know one thing.  Sabina Dinnett’s going to have a baby.  Are you the father of it, or aren’t you?”

“What the devil business is that of yours?”

“As one of my mill hands, I consider it is my business.  One thinks of them as human beings as well as machines—­machines for work, or amusement—­according to the point of view.  So answer me.”

“You cold-blooded cur!  What are you but a machine?”

“Answer my question, please.”

“Go to hell.”

“You blackguard!  You do a dirty, cowardly thing like this, despite my warnings and entreaties; you foul our name and drag it in the gutter and then aren’t man enough to acknowledge it.”

The younger trembled with passion.