They are always trying at it; they always have it in their minds and every five or six years, there comes a struggle between masters and men.
They'll find themselves mistaken this time, I fancy,—a little out of their reckoning.
If they turn out, they mayn't find it so easy to go in again.
I believe, the masters have a thing or two in their heads which will teach the men not to strike again in a hurry, if they try it this time.'
'Does it not make the town very rough?' asked Margaret.
'Of course it does. But surely you are not a coward, are you?
Milton is not the place for cowards.
I have known the time when I have had to thread my way through a crowd of white, angry men, all swearing they would have Makinson's blood as soon as he ventured to show his nose out of his factory; and he, knowing nothing of it, some one had to go and tell him, or he was a dead man, and it needed to be a woman,—so I went.
And when I had got in, I could not get out. It was as much as my life was worth.
So I went up to the roof, where there were stones piled ready to drop on the heads of the crowd, if they tried to force the factory doors.
And I would have lifted those heavy stones, and dropped them with as good an aim as the best man there, but that I fainted with the heat I had gone through.
If you live in Milton, you must learn to have a brave heart, Miss Hale.'
'I would do my best,' said Margaret rather pale. 'I do not know whether I am brave or not till I am tried; but I am afraid I should be a coward.'
'South country people are often frightened by what our Darkshire men and women only call living and struggling.
But when you've been ten years among a people who are always owing their betters a grudge, and only waiting for an opportunity to pay it off, you'll know whether you are a coward or not, take my word for it.'
Mr. Thornton came that evening to Mr. Hale's.
He was shown up into the drawing-room, where Mr. Hale was reading aloud to his wife and daughter.
'I am come partly to bring you a note from my mother, and partly to apologise for not keeping to my time yesterday.
The note contains the address you asked for; Dr. Donaldson.'
'Thank you!' said Margaret, hastily, holding out her hand to take the note, for she did not wish her mother to hear that they had been making any inquiry about a doctor.
She was pleased that Mr. Thornton seemed immediately to understand her feeling; he gave her the note without another word of explanation.
Mr. Hale began to talk about the strike.
Mr. Thornton's face assumed a likeness to his mother's worst expression, which immediately repelled the watching Margaret.
'Yes; the fools will have a strike.
Let them.
It suits us well enough.
But we gave them a chance.
They think trade is flourishing as it was last year.
We see the storm on the horizon and draw in our sails.
But because we don't explain our reasons, they won't believe we're acting reasonably.
We must give them line and letter for the way we choose to spend or save our money.
Henderson tried a dodge with his men, out at Ashley, and failed.
He rather wanted a strike; it would have suited his book well enough.
So when the men came to ask for the five per cent. they are claiming, he told 'em he'd think about it, and give them his answer on the pay day; knowing all the while what his answer would be, of course, but thinking he'd strengthen their conceit of their own way.
However, they were too deep for him, and heard something about the bad prospects of trade.
So in they came on the Friday, and drew back their claim, and now he's obliged to go on working.
But we Milton masters have to-day sent in our decision.
We won't advance a penny.
We tell them we may have to lower wages; but can't afford to raise.
So here we stand, waiting for their next attack.'
'And what will that be?' asked Mr. Hale.
'I conjecture, a simultaneous strike.
You will see Milton without smoke in a few days, I imagine, Miss Hale.'
'But why,' asked she, 'could you not explain what good reason you have for expecting a bad trade?
I don't know whether I use the right words, but you will understand what I mean.'
'Do you give your servants reasons for your expenditure, or your economy in the use of your own money?
We, the owners of capital, have a right to choose what we will do with it.'
'A human right,' said Margaret, very low.
'I beg your pardon, I did not hear what you said.'
'I would rather not repeat it,' said she; 'it related to a feeling which I do not think you would share.'