The Master of Liversedge (17 page)

‘Perhaps you do not believe I should keep my promise?’

Her eyes refused to meet his.

‘It’s not that — but after all that’s occurred — things can never be quite the same, I should not be comfortable anymore.’

‘But you are no bread-and-butter miss, to be frightened off by a brush with reality — ’

‘A governess is always in a difficult situation, Mr. Arkwright. She is neither a servant, nor yet one of the family. If a proper distance cannot be maintained — ’

‘A proper distance!’ The words were scornful, but there was a gentler expression in his eyes. ‘I suspect that the proper distance between us is — ’

He broke off, seeming suddenly to recollect himself.

‘Caroline wants you back,’ he continued, in a different tone. ‘I told her you were indisposed, and would return in a day or two. You have won her affection, you know — she would miss you sadly.’

‘Was that why you came?’ asked Mary, involuntarily. ‘Because Caroline wants me to return, and has been urging you to come and see me?’

‘No.’ He took a step towards her and she could see that he was in the grip of a strong emotion. ‘Caroline misses you, certainly — so do I.’

She drew a quick breath, and turned towards the table, seizing a garment from the pile of mending as though she meant to resume her interrupted task. She had no very clear idea at that moment of what she was doing.

‘It’s no use,’ she said, breathlessly. ‘I am sorry — I, too, am fond of your sister, but I know it will never be the same again. And besides, perhaps in time I might do something else to vex you, and then you would ask me to go a second time. As you said yourself, we seem to be always at loggerheads, you and I. It will be better if I go now.’

She was staring from the window as she spoke: it looked out to the front of the Vicarage. As she watched, a figure entered the gate, and began to walk up the path towards the door.

‘I fancy I know why we quarrel so easily,’ Arkwright said, softly. ‘Shall I tell you, I wonder?’

‘There — there is someone coming to the house,’ she said, hurriedly, to hide her confusion.

‘Let him be damned, whoever he is,’ he retorted, impatiently. ‘Miss Lister — Mary lass — ’

‘I believe it is Mr. Webster,’ she continued, her thoughts in a riot.

He moved to her side. ‘Will you listen? I — ’ He broke off. His eyes followed the direction of hers, and alighted on the man who was now close to the house.

‘Arthur Webster!’ he exclaimed, in a different tone. ‘So you were expecting him! Now I see why you don’t wish to return to my house.’

She turned a startled face towards him as the knocker sounded.

‘But I had no idea — ’ she began.

‘No?’ He gave a short, hard laugh, and moved towards the door. ‘Well, I will not intrude upon your tête-à-tête. No doubt you now have other plans for your future than those which had begun to occur to me.’

He reached the door, and made her an ironic bow.

‘Don’t bother to see me out. I’ll go through the back way.’ He paused. ‘And I must thank you — I almost made a fool of myself, but you prevented me in time.’

EIGHTEEN: THE DEFENCE OF THE MILL

Arkwright covered the short distance between the Vicarage and his own house in record time. Glancing at his face as she admitted him, Nellie shivered, and searched her memory in quick panic for any misdeed which could possibly be laid at her door. The fact that she could not think of anything failed to relieve her strong feelings of guilt. Something had put the Master about sadly; and, if she knew the signs, someone would pay for it.

Caroline had heard his knock, and came limping out of the parlour, closing the door carefully behind her. The injured ankle was almost normal again, but it still would not hurry along at its owner’s usual headlong pace.

‘Did you see her, Will?’ she asked, in a low, eager voice. ‘Can she return soon — tomorrow, or the next day?’

‘I saw her,’ he said, grimly. ‘She will not return at all.’

Caroline gave a cry. ‘Not come back here? Not at all? Oh, why not? Is she seriously ill?’

He shook his head. ‘She does not choose to come.’

She limped forward, and clutched his arm. ‘Why not? She must have a reason — Will, you haven’t been vexed with her, and — and said something to frighten her away — ’

He shook off her arm irritably. ‘I want to hear no more of Miss Lister from now on — do you understand? No more.’

She looked as if she would protest, but thought better of it; then her lip began to tremble ominously.

He drew her roughly to him for a moment. ‘Oh, for God’s sake, child — you’re not the only one who will miss her! But it’s best so, believe me. And now, no more of this. Where’s your Mama?’

Caroline pointed to the parlour. ‘In there,’ she said, gulping a little. ‘And — and Colonel Grey is waiting to see you — he came a short while back.’

He released her, and strode into the parlour, to find his stepmother giving an uneasy audience to the Colonel. She looked up in palpable relief at his entrance.

‘Oh, I’m so glad you’re come, Will, for the Colonel wanted particularly to see you, and says he has not much time to spare.’ She rose, nervously gathering up her embroidery materials and her reticule in hands which failed to retain most of the objects in their grasp. ‘I’ll leave you alone — ’

‘No need for that,’ replied Arkwright, stooping to retrieve a pair of scissors and a skein of silk from the carpet. ‘We’ll go into the library, by your leave, sir.’

The Colonel assented, and the two men left Mrs. Arkwright to the healing effects of solitude.

‘Last night’s affair was a fiasco,’ said the Colonel, when they were settled. ‘The men turned out for nothing.’

Arkwright’s eyebrows shot up. ‘No meeting?’ he asked. ‘I thought that spy was a fool, but not such a fool as that.’

‘Undoubtedly there was a meeting,’ replied Colonel Grey. ‘My men questioned the landlord pretty closely, and he admitted to feeling uneasy about a watch that was being kept on the stairs which led to the clubroom. He also said that most of the men seemed to have arrived by just after seven, though he denied knowing any of ’em, or even paying any particular attention to their activities. Was busy in the tap and the cellar, so he said.’ Arkwright nodded. ‘The thing is, when my fellows arrived, it was too late. They left it until just on the hour, so’s not to scare any of the birds off — when they got there, the lot had flown. A few traces of ’em in the room itself, and the landlord’s evidence — but not a single man there to be taken.’

‘Warned, do you suppose?’ asked the mill-owner, wrinkling his forehead. ‘But by whom?’

Colonel Grey shrugged. ‘Possibly. Or they may have started the meeting early, as most members had arrived by seven, according to the landlord. Perhaps an hour was sufficient for their purposes.’

‘I don’t like it,’ demurred Arkwright. ‘It looks like treachery. But who would know?’

The soldiers, of course,’ replied the Colonel, thoughtfully. ‘As far I know, they’re to be trusted — they’re all Regulars. It’s possible someone might have overheard them talking about the raid. I told no one else — I don’t know about you?’

‘No one,’ answered Arkwright, promptly. ‘At least — ’ he hesitated — ‘no one who could possibly betray me. My overseer, Nick Bradley, knew about it.’

‘You’re sure of him?’

‘As sure as I am of myself. He served my father, and helped me put the business on its legs again after his death. No — not Nick, decidedly not.’

‘As you say. Well, it doesn’t greatly matter now, does it? The thing is, we know that a meeting was held, and all the evidence seems to suggest it was a meeting of the Luddites. Plans were made there, for certain: and, in view of the threatening letter you received, it’s any odds you care to mention that those plans concerned an early attack on your mill.’

Arkwright nodded. ‘I’m sure of it, too. In all cases, a threatening letter has been quickly followed by an attack. I’d say, myself, they’d make the attempt within the next few days.’

‘You sound cool enough,’ approved the Colonel. ‘Have you made any plans for defending your property?’

Arkwright nodded. ‘I’ve been working on them ever since I first decided to bring machines into the mill. I’ll explain, sir. I propose to defend the place from the upper floor — it’s paved with stone flags, and I’ve fitted rings and pulleys on to them, so that they can be raised in order to fire on anyone who succeeds in entering the ground floor. It will also be possible from there to fire obliquely through the windows, so that we can command the front of the mill. I shall confine all invaders to the ground floor by the expedient of my own patent device.’

He drew a sheet of paper towards him, and, picking up a pen from the inkstand, drew a rough sketch of a large roller with vicious-looking spikes protruding from it.

‘I shall fit these contraptions to the stairs,’ he explained. ‘Anyone who succeeds in surmounting them — and I don’t think it likely, as these spikes are eighteen inches long — will find a huge carboy of vitriol waiting for him at the top of the stairs. The threat of this should be sufficient’ — his face took on grim lines — ‘but if they persist, they’ll get it, right enough.’

‘That’s the spirit!’ approved the Colonel. ‘Your place will be as well defended as a mediaeval fortress — and on much the same lines. Now — what about men?’

‘Two watchmen armed with blunderbusses at the gates, to give warning,’ enumerated Arkwright. ‘Three or four completely reliable workmen, four or five of the best men in my Volunteers, and myself. That’s the muster, sir.’

‘But you’ll need the Army,’ protested Colonel Grey. ‘Now’s our chance to smoke out this nest of Luddites, and it’ll not be done by a handful of labourers and toy soldiers, believe me! They may come in their hundreds, by all we’ve heard.’

Arkwright shook his head. ‘We can’t have a force of any size hidden away in the mill,’ he objected. ‘Moreover, the Ludds will only attack if they believe the place to be practically unguarded. Any suspicion of the military in the vicinity, and they’ll be frightened off, you may depend. They haven’t yet reached the stage of declaring open warfare on the Army.’

‘There’s much in what you say.’ The Colonel nodded thoughtfully. ‘But this is too good a chance to miss, for all that — we must make sure of capturing the ringleaders, at least, as I’d hoped to do last night at the St. Crispin.’ He paused. ‘Tell you what then,’ he continued. ‘You keep to your original plans for the defence of your property; and I’ll billet men at all the inns in the area — say, within a radius of two or three miles of the mill. They’ll have orders to keep as close as possible during the daylight hours, and be on the alert after dark every night. All that’s needed now is some system of alarm for you to sound off when the attack begins — something that will carry the necessary distance.’

‘That’s simple,’ Arkwright stated, with satisfaction. ‘There’s a great bell on the roof of the mill — it’s not been used for some years, but I’ll look it over in readiness. On the still night air, its peal should carry for miles. My watchmen will give us the first alarm; if they fail, there’s a large hound patrolling the premises. They’ll find it difficult enough to break into the ground floor — those doors are stout, and studded with iron nails. The windows are a weakness; but we shall reinforce them, and, in any case, they would only admit one man at a time. I promise you, Colonel, if they do get in, we shall massacre them — without the aid of the military.’

‘I believe you will.’ Colonel Grey glanced approvingly at the grim, determined face of the man beside him. ‘I say again, Arkwright, what I said before — you’re a great loss to the Army, damned if you’re not.’

He was to repeat this sentiment a couple of nights later, when he arrived unexpectedly at the mill after daylight had faded. He was unaccompanied, and watched appraisingly while Arkwright and his small force of men went round the building making their arrangements. Each evening since Arkwright’s last meeting with the Colonel, everything in Liversedge mill had been set in readiness for an attack: each morning after a sleepless, but uneventful night, the watchers had been obliged to put the place in order again for a normal day’s work.

‘I’m beginning to feel it’s a waste of time,’ said Arkwright, in return to the Colonel’s congratulatory words.

‘Then I’ve news that will change your opinion,’ said Colonel Grey. ‘Reports have been coming in steadily of thefts of arms — some large, some small — taken from places within a ten-miles’ radius of here. If that don’t suggest an attack, I’m a Dutchman. Moreover, the biggest of these thefts took place a few hours since, not far from Huddersfield.’

Arkwright raised his brows. ‘It certainly sounds more hopeful. To tell the truth, I’d be disappointed, now, if they didn’t have a crack at us. I feel confident of the outcome, and I’d dearly love to teach them a lesson.’

‘Can you find me a shake-down for the night?’

‘D’ you mean to stay, sir?’

‘I’d like to, if you’ll have me. Call it an old soldier’s instinct, if you like, but I’ve a strong notion that they’ll attack tonight.’

*

A chill wind blew over the bleak moor, bending the few stunted trees and tossing the heather. The waiting men shivered, straining their eyes through the darkness in the direction from whence they hoped to see others come marching to join them. Already they were over a hundred strong, desperate men for the most part, eagerly grasping their oddly assorted weapons. In spite of the recent raids, not all carried firearms; some held heavy hammers that had become the trade-mark of the Luddites, while others had to be content with farm-implements, stakes, or even an improvised cudgel.

There were those among them who secretly wished themselves elsewhere. As they answered the roll-call, they shivered, knowing that now they were irrevocably committed to deeds of which they doubted the justice and feared the outcome. But they knew they dared not retract: they had taken an oath which bound them indissolubly to the Luddite cause, whatever action its leaders might dictate. To turn traitor was to invite an ignominious death. However little stomach they had for the present proceedings, they kept silent.

John Booth was one of these. He stood next to Sam Hartley, his face pale in the moonlight. Most of the Luddites had either blackened their faces or put on masks; but these two had shunned the feeble attempt at concealment. Both were past caring, though for different reasons.

Somewhere a curlew raised its high, plaintive cry. John shuddered, and hunched his shoulders, as though attempting to shrink into himself. He started as a heavy hand clapped him on the shoulder.

‘Cold, lad? Tha’ll be warm enough just now, when t’ fun starts.’

It was Black George, doing the rounds with one or two others who had placed themselves in command of the rioters.

‘Ay, that we will,’ Sam Hartley answered him, his eyes blazing fanatically in his white face. ‘I’ve waited long enough for this day, b’God, and now I’ll be even wi’ Arkwright, if it’s t’ last thing I do in this world — damn his soul!’

There was a growl of assent from those nearest him. Booth flinched, but said nothing: his companion’s fierce hate terrified him.

‘Tha’s reight,’ approved Mellor, shortly. ‘Reckon we’ve all waited long enough. Well, lads, we’d best be on our way.’

One of the other leaders spoke up. ‘There’s t’ lads from Leeds to come yet,’ he protested. ‘Happen they’ve been delayed. Let’s wait a bit.’

‘We’ve waited all we’re going to wait,’ retorted Mellor firmly. ‘We need to strike while t’ iron’s hot — t’ lads’ll lose their nerve, I reckon, if we hang about much longer.’

The other demurred, but Black George’s forcefulness overcame all objections, and the party eventually moved off across the moor in the direction of Liversedge.

*

Arkwright and the Colonel had kept up a desultory conversation until close on midnight, squatting side by side on the straw palliasses which had been placed for them on the upper floor of the mill. Most of the other men on guard were already asleep, worn out by the extra hours of vigil in addition to their normal working day. At five to twelve, the Colonel looked at his watch, yawned widely, and stretched his full length on the mattress.

‘Looks as though I was wrong,’ he said, between yawns. ‘They’re not coming tonight after all.’

He relapsed into silence, closing his eyes. Presently a faint snore issued from his lips.

Arkwright leaned back on one elbow, and let his glance travel once more round the dimly lit room, as he had done countless times already during the hours of waiting. He no longer saw it: in his mind’s eye was the Vicarage parlour, with Mary Lister standing there, as she had confronted him on his last visit. Could it really have been only a few days since? He seemed to have lived a lifetime since then; and yet he could still feel her nearness in his every nerve, when he conjured up once more the moment when he had held her in his arms. He told himself that it was no use to think of that. She had shown him plainly enough where her interest lay; and he was not a sickly youth, to go wailing for the moon. He had done well enough before Mary Lister came to Liversedge, and he would do well again, after she left. All things are passing. And if the ghost of his younger self suddenly cried out against this staid philosophy, he knew how to quell it.