She said she did not know; but she had a good bit of money put by, and was not afraid of work, and, in truth, she had come there to ask Mrs. Little’s advice, “poor lady.  Now don’t you mind me, Mr. Henry, your trouble is a deal worse than mine.”

“Jael,” said he, “you must come here and keep my house till my poor mother is better.”

Jael colored and said, “Nay, that will not do.  But if you could find me something to do in your great factory—­and I hear you have enemies there; you might as well have a friend right in the middle of them.  Eh, but I’d keep my eyes and ears open for you.”

Henry appreciated this proposal, and said there were plenty of things she could do; she could hone, she could pack, she could superintend, and keep the girls from gabbling; “That,” said he, “is the real thing that keeps them behind the men at work.”

So Jael Dence lodged with a female cousin in Hillsborough, and filled a position of trust in the factory of Bolt and Little:  she packed, and superintended, and the foreman paid her thirty shillings a week.  The first time this was tendered her she said severely, “Is this right, young man?” meaning, “Is it not too much?”

“Oh, you will be raised if you stay with us three months.”

“Raised?” said the virtuous rustic!  Then, looking loftily round on the other women, “What ever do these factory folk find to grumble at?”

Henry told Grace all about this, and she said, rather eagerly, “Ah, I am glad of that.  You’ll have a good watch-dog.”

It was a shrewd speech.  The young woman soon found out that Little was really in danger, and she was all eyes and ears, and no tongue.

Yet neither her watchfulness, nor Ransome’s, prevailed entirely against the deviltries of the offended Union.  Machinery was always breaking down by pure accident; so everybody swore, and nobody believed:  the water was all let out of the boiler, and the boiler burst.  Bands were no longer taken but they were cut.  And, in short, the works seemed to be under a curse.

And, lest the true origin of all these mishaps should be doubted, each annoyance was followed by an anonymous letter.  These were generally sent to Little.  A single sentence will indicate the general tone of each.

1.  “All these are but friendly warnings, to save your life if possible.”

2.  “I never give in.  I fight to death, and with more craft and duplicity than Bolt and Ransome.  They will never save you from me, if you persist.  Ask others whether I ever failed to keep my word.”

3.  “If I but move my finger, you are sent into eternity.”

Henry Little’s nerve began to give way more and more.

Meantime Cole met Mr. Coventry, and told him what was going on beneath the surface:  at the same time he expressed his surprise at the extraordinary forbearance shown by the Union.  “Grotait is turning soft, I think.  He will not give the word to burn Sebastopol.”