Mr. Hale blew his nose, and got up to snuff the candles in order to conceal his emotion.  ’He’s not an infidel, Margaret; how could you say so?’ muttered he reproachfully ’I’ve a good mind to read him the fourteenth chapter of Job.’

’Not yet, papa, I think.  Perhaps not at all.  Let us ask him about the strike, and give him all the sympathy he needs, and hoped to have from poor Bessy.’

So they questioned and listened.  The workmen’s calculations were based (like too many of the masters’) on false premises.  They reckoned on their fellow-men as if they possessed the calculable powers of machines, no more, no less; no allowance for human passions getting the better of reason, as in the case of Boucher and the rioters; and believing that the representations of their injuries would have the same effect on strangers far away, as the injuries (fancied or real) had upon themselves.  They were consequently surprised and indignant at the poor Irish, who had allowed themselves to be imported and brought over to take their places.  This indignation was tempered, in some degree, by contempt for ‘them Irishers,’ and by pleasure at the idea of the bungling way in which they would set to work, and perplex their new masters with their ignorance and stupidity, strange exaggerated stories of which were already spreading through the town.  But the most cruel cut of all was that of the Milton workmen, who had defied and disobeyed the commands of the Union to keep the peace, whatever came; who had originated discord in the camp, and spread the panic of the law being arrayed against them.

‘And so the strike is at an end,’ said Margaret.

‘Ay, miss.  It’s save as save can.  Th’ factory doors will need open wide to-morrow to let in all who’ll be axing for work; if it’s only just to show they’d nought to do wi’ a measure, which if we’d been made o’ th’ right stuff would ha’ brought wages up to a point they’n not been at this ten year.’

‘You’ll get work, shan’t you?’ asked Margaret.  ’You’re a famous workman, are not you?’

’Hamper’ll let me work at his mill, when he cuts off his right hand—­not before, and not after,’ said Nicholas, quietly.  Margaret was silenced and sad.

‘About the wages,’ said Mr. Hale.  ’You’ll not be offended, but I think you make some sad mistakes.  I should like to read you some remarks in a book I have.’  He got up and went to his book-shelves.

‘Yo’ needn’t trouble yoursel’, sir,’ said Nicholas.  ’Their book-stuff goes in at one ear and out at t’other.  I can make nought on’t.  Afore Hamper and me had this split, th’ overlooker telled him I were stirring up the men to ask for higher wages; and Hamper met me one day in th’ yard.  He’d a thin book i’ his hand, and says he, “Higgins, I’m told you’re one of those damned fools that think you can get higher wages for asking for ’em; ay, and keep ’em up too, when you’ve forced ’em up.  Now, I’ll give yo’ a chance and try if yo’ve any sense in yo’.