‘Yo’d ha’ been deaved out o’ yo’r five wits, as well as me, if yo’d had one body after another coming in to ask for father, and staying to tell me each one their tale.  Some spoke o’ deadly hatred, and made my blood run cold wi’ the terrible things they said o’ th’ masters,—­but more, being women, kept plaining, plaining (wi’ the tears running down their cheeks, and never wiped away, nor heeded), of the price o’ meat, and how their childer could na sleep at nights for th’ hunger.’

‘And do they think the strike will mend this?’ asked Margaret.

‘They say so,’ replied Bessy.  ’They do say trade has been good for long, and the masters has made no end o’ money; how much father doesn’t know, but, in course, th’ Union does; and, as is natural, they wanten their share o’ th’ profits, now that food is getting dear; and th’ Union says they’ll not be doing their duty if they don’t make the masters give ’em their share.  But masters has getten th’ upper hand somehow; and I’m feared they’ll keep it now and evermore.  It’s like th’ great battle o’ Armageddon, the way they keep on, grinning and fighting at each other, till even while they fight, they are picked off into the pit.’  Just then, Nicholas Higgins came in.  He caught his daughter’s last words.

’Ay! and I’ll fight on too; and I’ll get it this time.  It’ll not take long for to make ’em give in, for they’ve getten a pretty lot of orders, all under contract; and they’ll soon find out they’d better give us our five per cent than lose the profit they’ll gain; let alone the fine for not fulfilling the contract.  Aha, my masters!  I know who’ll win.’

Margaret fancied from his manner that he must have been drinking, not so much from what he said, as from the excited way in which he spoke; and she was rather confirmed in this idea by the evident anxiety Bessy showed to hasten her departure.  Bessy said to her,—­

‘The twenty-first—­that’s Thursday week.  I may come and see yo’ dressed for Thornton’s, I reckon.  What time is yo’r dinner?’

Before Margaret could answer, Higgins broke out,

‘Thornton’s!  Ar’ t’ going to dine at Thornton’s?  Ask him to give yo’ a bumper to the success of his orders.  By th’ twenty-first, I reckon, he’ll be pottered in his brains how to get ’em done in time.  Tell him, there’s seven hundred’ll come marching into Marlborough Mills, the morning after he gives the five per cent, and will help him through his contract in no time.  You’ll have ‘em all there.  My master, Hamper.  He’s one o’ th’ oud-fashioned sort.  Ne’er meets a man bout an oath or a curse; I should think he were going to die if he spoke me civil; but arter all, his bark’s waur than his bite, and yo’ may tell him one o’ his turn-outs said so, if yo’ like.  Eh! but yo’ll have a lot of prize mill-owners at Thornton’s!  I should like to get speech o’ them, when they’re a bit inclined to sit still after dinner, and could na run for the life on ’em.  I’d tell ’em my mind.  I’d speak up again th’ hard way they’re driving on us!’