"That's raight enew, parson," cried Stockton; "but all the same if some cursed, cowardly spy hadn't betrayed us the wucks would hev been down."

"That betrayal of your evil plans came about more strangely than you can imagine," said the vicar. "I have suspected something, and been constantly on the watch."

"Strange and kind of you, too, parson," said Stockton, with a laugh.

"You will think so some day, my man."

"Bud I know who it weer," said Stockton. "Theer he stands; it were Tom Podmore. He weer not sweered in."

"Then he did not betray you," said the vicar, as a menacing growl arose; but Tom stood perfectly firm.

"No, it weern't Tom Podmore," cried Big Harry, stalking forward, one big shoulder at a time. "If you want to know who did it, here he is--I did; and I'm glad on it. Dal me! I'm glad as th'owd wucks aint down, and I'll faight any two o' you as don't like it; so now then."

There was another growl, but no one took up the challenge.

"See here, lads," cried Harry. "I went awaya so as to hev now't to do wi' it, and I didn't tell anybody; only telled parson to give d.i.c.ky Glaire the word to look out."

"And you was sweered in, Harry," cried Stockton.

"So I weer," said the big fellow; "and, as I said afore, I'll faight any man as don't like it. Well, I goes on to Sheffle to get wuck, and there I happened o' Daisy Banks; and when the poor little la.s.s got howd o' me, and begged me to tell all about her owd man, why dal me, I weer obliged to tell her how he was a-going to--dal it, parson, don't slap a man o'

the mooth that how."

"You've said enough, Harry," cried the vicar. "We want to know no more.

I answer for you that you did quite right, and some day these men will thank you, as I do now, for saving us all from this horror. Now, my men, you know that Slee and Barker, that stranger, are in the station."

"Oh, ay, we know that," said Stockton; "and I vote, lads, we hev 'em out."

"No, no; let them get the punishment they deserve," cried the vicar.

"Well, lookye here, parson," cried Stockton; "the game's up, I s'pose, and you've got the police outside. I was in it, and I'm not going to turn tail. Here I am."

"My man, I will not know your name, nor the name of any man here. I will not recognise anybody; I came as your friend, not as a spy. I came to ask you to break up your wretched bond of union, and to go forth home as honest men. Where a union is made for the fair protection of a workman's rights, I can respect it; but a brotherhood that blasphemes its own name by engaging in what may prove wholesale murder, is a monster that you yourselves must crush. I have no more to say. Go home."

"Parson's raight, lads!" said Stockton, throwing off his defiant air.

"Let's go. Parson, it was a d.a.m.ned cowardly trick, but d.i.c.ky Glaire had made us strange and mad."

"It weer owd Simmy Slee as made it wuss, wi' cootting o' them bands,"

said Big Harry. "We should ha' been at wuck again if it hadn't been for that."

"Quick, lads!" cried a man, running in. "Sim Slee and Barker's broke out o' th' owd shop, and the police are coming down here."

"Theer, parson," said Stockton, with a bitter smile; "th' game's oop."

For answer, the vicar pointed to the windows, and in less than a minute the room was empty, though there would have been plenty of time to escape by the door, for the one policeman coming on the mission to see if Slee had made for the meeting-place of his party did not hurry his footsteps, partly from reasons of dignity, and partly because he was alone.

Volume 3, Chapter XIV.

A FAITHFUL LOVER.

The announcement was quite correct. Sim Slee and his companions had broken away through the ceiling, dislodged the tiles, and escaped; and when the vicar reached home, he found Mrs Slee waiting up for him, trembling and pale, while her eyes were red with weeping. She clung to him hysterically, and asked if the news was true, and that her husband was in prison.

"They came and told me the police had got him," she sobbed. "Ah, he's a bad one sometimes, but he's my maister, sir, he's my maister."

"He was taken, Mrs Slee," said the vicar, "I'm sorry to say. I was present. You know I went out to-night, for I was in dread of some outrage; and after being about a time, I found that something was wrong, for the men were all waiting as in expectation."

"He always would mix himself up with these troubles i'stead o' wucking,"

sobbed the poor woman.

"Fortunately I met two of the men I could trust, and found that an attempt was to be made to blow up the works."

"Ah, but Sim wouldn't do that, sir," sobbed Mrs Slee. "He dursen't."

"I'm sorry to say, Mrs Slee, that one of the policemen had watched him, and seen him help to carry a barrel of powder to the works."

"Just like him--just like him," sobbed Mrs Slee; "but some one else was to fire it."

"How did you know that?" said the vicar, sharply.

"I only know as he dursen't hev done it hissen," sobbed the poor woman.

"Poor lad, poor lad, there was nowt again him but the drink."

"The men I met were in search of Daisy Banks," continued the vicar; "and we joined hands with the police, who took your husband and that man from London, and afterwards we reached the works, and they are safe."

"I'm strange and glad they've took that London man," sobbed Mrs Slee; "but poor Sim! Poor, poor Sim! But I must go and say a word o' comfort to him. Smith, at station's a good, kind man."

"Who'll ever say that woman is not faithful?" said the vicar to himself, as Mrs Slee hurried away to get her print hood, and, late as it was, to make her way to the station; but as she came back sobbing bitterly, he laid his hand upon her arm.

"You need not go, Mrs Slee; your husband and his confederate have escaped."

"Escaped? got awaya?" cried Mrs Slee.

"Yes."

"Gone out o' the town?"

"Undoubtedly."

"Then," cried Mrs Slee, wiping her eyes with a hasty s.n.a.t.c.h or two of her ap.r.o.n, "I'm glad on it. A bad villain, to go and try to do such a thing by the place as he made his bread by. I hope to goodness he'll niver come back," she cried, in her old sharp vinegary tone. "I hope I may niver set eyes upon him again. Bud I don't want him to go to prison. Bud you're not going out again to-night, sir?" she said, imploringly.

"I must go up to the House and see that all is well there, Mrs Slee,"

he replied; "and call as I go and see how poor Banks is."

"Bud is it true, sir, that Daisy has come back?"

"Yes," said the vicar, sadly. "Poor girl, she has returned."

"Bud you wean't go now, sir; it's close upon two o'clock."

"Lie down on the sofa, Mrs Slee. I shall be able to wake you when I come back."