‘There is a small entrance at the back, besides the gates in front; it opens by a secret method which I know—I will try it.’
‘Not with my leave.’ Miss Keeldar clasped her round the waist with both arms and held her back. ‘Not one step shall you stir,’ she went on authoritatively. ‘At this moment Moore would be both shocked and embarrassed if he saw either you or me. Men never want women near them in time of real danger.’
‘I would not trouble—I would help him,’ was the reply.
‘How? By inspiring him with heroism? Pooh! These are not the days of chivalry: it is not a tilt at a tournament we are going to behold, but a struggle about money, and food, and life.’
‘It is natural that I should be at his side.’
‘As queen of his heart? His mill is his lady-love, Cary! Backed by his factory and his frames, he has all the encouragement he wants or can know. It is not for love or beauty, but for ledger and broadcloth, he is going to break a spear. Don’t be sentimental; Robert is not so.’
‘I could help him—I will seek him.’
‘Off then—I let you go—seek Moore: you’ll not find him.’
She loosened her hold. Caroline sped like levelled shaft from bent bow; after her rang a jesting, gibing laugh.
‘Look well there is no mistake!’ was the warning given.
But there was a mistake. Miss Helstone paused, hesitated, gazed. The figure had suddenly retreated from the gate, and was running back hastily to the mill.
‘Make haste, Lina!’ cried Shirley; ‘meet him before he enters.’
Caroline slowly returned.
‘It is not Robert,’ she said; ‘it has neither his height, form, nor bearing.’
‘I saw it was not Robert when I let you go. How could you imagine it? It is a shabby little figure of a private soldier; they had posted him as sentinel. He is safe in the mill now: I saw the door open and admit him. My mind grows easier; Robert is prepared; our warning would have been superfluous, and now I am thankful we came too late to give it: it has saved us the trouble of a scene. How fine to have entered the counting-house “toute éperdue,” and to have found one’s self in presence of Messrs. Armitage and Ramsden smoking, Malone swaggering, your uncle sneering, Mr. Sykes sipping a cordial, and Moore himself in his cold man-of-business vein; I am glad we missed it all.’
‘I wonder if there are many in the mill, Shirley.’
‘Plenty to defend it. The soldiers we have twice seen to-day were going there no doubt, and the group we noticed surrounding your cousin in the fields will be with him.’
‘What are they doing now, Shirley? What is that noise?’
‘Hatchets and crowbars against the yard-gates: they are forcing them. Are you afraid?’
‘No; but my heart throbs fast; I have a difficulty in standing: I will sit down. Do you feel unmoved?’
‘Hardly that—but I am glad I came: we shall see what transpires with our own eyes: we are here on the spot, and none know it. Instead of amazing the curate, the clothier, and the corn-dealer with a romantic