He walked into the office.  Mr. Cheetham was not there:  but he found Bayne and Dr. Amboyne.

“Mr. Bayne,” said he, abruptly, “I am come for my month’s wages.”

The tone was so aggressive, Bayne looked alarmed.  “Why, Little, poor Mr. Cheetham is gone home with a bad headache, and a sore heart.”

“All the better.  I don’t want to tell him to his face he is a bragging cur; all I want out of him now is my money; and you can pay me that.”

The pacific Bayne cast a piteous glance at Dr. Amboyne.  “I have told you the whole business, sir.  Oughtn’t Mr. Little to wait till to-morrow, and talk it over with Mr. Cheetham?  I’m only a servant:  and a man of peace.”

“Whether he ought or not, I think I can answer for him that he will.”

“I can’t, sir,” said Henry, sturdily.  “I leave the town to-morrow.”

“Oh, that alters the case.  But must you leave us so soon?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I am very sorry for that.  Tell me your reason.  I don’t ask out of mere curiosity.”

Henry replied with less than his usual candor; “Is it not reason enough for leaving a place, that my life has been attempted in it, and now my livelihood is taken?”

“Those are strong reasons.  But, on the other hand, your life is no longer in danger; and your livelihood is not gone; for, to speak plainly, I came over here the moment I heard you were discharged, to ask if you would enter my service on the same terms as Mr. Cheetham gave you, only guineas instead of pounds.”

“What, turn doctor?”

“Oh dear, no; the doctors’ Union would forbid that.  No, Mr. Little, I am going to ask you to pay me a compliment; to try my service blindfold for one week.  You can leave it if you don’t like it; but give me one week’s trial.”

“How can I refuse you that?” said Henry, hanging his head.  “You have been a good friend to me.  But, sir, mark my words, this place will be my destruction.  Well, when am I to begin work?”

“To-morrow, at ten.”

“So be it,” said Henry, wearily, then left the works and went home; but, as he went, he said to himself.  “It is not my doing.”  And his double-faced heart glowed and exulted secretly.

He told his mother how the Trades had beaten him, and he was out of work.

Mrs. Little consoled him hypocritically.  She was delighted.  Then he told her his departure had been delayed by Dr. Amboyne:  that made her look a little anxious.

“One question, dear:  now the Union has beaten you, they will not be so spiteful, will they?”

“Oh, no.  That is all over.  The conquerors can afford to be good-natured.  Confound them!”

“Then that is all I care about.  Then do not leave Hillsborough.  Why should you?  Wait here patiently.  You do not know what may turn up.”

“What, mother, do you want to stay here now?” said Henry, opening his eyes with astonishment.