“Well, then, it was only for a season, and a seven-fold blessing after it. It is wonderful how well your men have behaved; they haven’t taken a bit of advantage of your absence. That is another good thing.”
“I am glad to hear that. I will see them, man by man, before I go back to London.”
The villagers, however, sent a deputation as soon as they heard of the Squire’s arrival, asking him to come down to Atheling Green, and tell them something about Reform. And he was pleased at the request, and went down, and found they had made a temporary platform out of two horse-blocks for him; and there he stood, his fine, imposing, sturdy figure thrown clearly into relief by the sunny spring atmosphere. And it was good to listen to his strong, sympathetic voice, for it had the ring of truth in all its inflections, as he said,–
“Men! Englishmen! Citizens of no mean country! you have asked me to explain to you what this Reform business means. You know well I will tell you no lies. It will give lots of working-men votes that never hoped for a vote; and so it is like enough working-men will be able to send to Parliament members who will fight for their interests. Maybe that is in your favour. It will open all our ports to foreign wheat and corn. You will get American wheat, and Russian wheat, and French wheat–”
“We won’t eat French wheat,” said Adam Sedbergh.
“And then, wheat will be so cheap that it will not pay English land-owners to sow it. Will that help you any?”
“We would rather grow our own wheat.”
“To be sure. Reform will, happen, give you shorter hours of work.”
“That would be good, Master,” said the blacksmith.
“It will depend on what you do with the extra hours of leisure.”