"Why, are you all going to strike too?" asked Nora, who had heard that the crisis was imminent.
"Oh no, miss! but there's no use our going when there's no one to work the machinery. So we'll have a whole holiday, and that is splendid!"
"Oh, I see," said Nora. "Well, come whenever you like. I shall be in all the morning."
The next day was one of those exquisite winter days that are most apt to come in February, when the sun rises softly through a light haze that idealizes the commonest objects. Even Pomeroy & Company's mill looked almost poetical in the early morning sunshine; but it stood still and silent, no whirr of machinery breaking the morning stillness, no troops of workers hastening toward it from their hurried breakfast.
A few girls who had not heard of the strike arrived; but turned away again, as they knew, by the unwonted stillness, that there was no work going on. Willett, the manager, himself once a workingman, now turned into a petty tyrant, very willing to mete to others the measure he had himself received, walked about grumbling, or scolding the little message-boys, who lingered about the place. He read the letters that came in, and then grumbled again, because some of them contained large orders for a particular kind of mixed silk and woolen goods, of which a large quantity was wanted immediately. Finally, on receipt of a note from Mr. Pomeroy, he settled down with a frown to a series of elaborate calculations, made from the pages of the great folios of accounts that lay on the office table. Meantime, the men at their homes enjoyed their unusual holiday, slept in, or lounged about aimlessly, discussing the prospects of speedy success, while they wondered wistfully, at times, how long this unproductive idleness was likely to last.
Lizzie, however, did not arrive till pretty late in the afternoon; just as Nora, despairing of her coming, was going out for a long walk, to enjoy the unusual beauty of the exquisite winter day.
"I'm so sorry, miss," she said, "that I couldn't come sooner. But I've been awful worried all day—about Jim! He's been out drinkin' with some roughs; an' they've been puttin' him up to all sorts of mischief. An' he's been hearin' about Nelly bein' out walkin' the other night—with young Mr. Pomeroy—and it's just set him crazy; he's vowin' he'll do him a mischief sure!"
"Was it Mr. Pomeroy, then, that you told me about before?" asked Nora, dismayed at this proof of what she had hoped was mere talk.
"Yes. But indeed I wouldn't have told you now, only I'm dreadful 'fraid there'll be a row! My little brother's an errand-boy in the mill, an' he happened to tell Jim that young Mr. Pomeroy was in the office, goin' over accounts with Mr. Willett; an' now Jim has got a plan in his head of goin' with two or three of his comrades, to wait for him, when he goes home at dusk, and give him an awful thrashin', you know there's one place that's pretty lonely on the road. An' there's no knowin' what Jim will do when his blood's up—an' the drink in his head! I seen him, lately, foolin' with a revolver, though where he got it, I don't know."
"And why can't you go and warn the police to look out?" asked Nora, hastily, too much shocked at this unexpected turn of things to consider it calmly.