Before he could enter, a hand came on his arm.
With a friendly nod, Stuckey trudged away, leaving Stevens not greatly cheered by his remarks. Coming so soon after his wife's complaints, Roger found them depressing. Almost without thought, he turned his step towards the nearest public-house; but before he could enter, a hand came on his arm.
"Now, Stevens—Stevens, man, it's no time for that!"
"No time for what?" demanded Stevens, shaking himself free.
"You know! Think of the wife and children," urged John.
"And if I do?" asked Stevens surlily.
"Winter's at hand, and not much money like to come to you yet awhile, I wouldn't now—if I was you. Just think of the little ones! You haven't even Union funds to depend on."
"I know that well enough—more's the pity!" Stevens hesitated a moment, then turned short round and walked away—both from the public-house and from John Holdfast. So Holdfast's effort had not been quite a failure.
Sarah Holdfast had returned from her kind little visit to Martha, next door. When her husband reached home, she had prepared his tea, washed the children, and made everything spick and span. Holdfast's first move was, as always, to disappear up-stairs, that he might do away with the marks of toil before he enjoyed his evening meal. His next move, on reappearance, was to take the baby in his strong arms, and to let little Bessie climb upon his knee. But he seemed a degree absent to-day; not so playful with the young ones as Mrs. Holdfast was accustomed to see him.
"Anything wrong, John?" she asked, when tea was nearly over.