“Very likely. What, are you coming in with us?”
“If you have no objection.”
The door was opened by Bayne in person. He started at the sight of the companion his friend had picked up, and asked him, with marked civility, if there was anything amiss. “Not that I know of,” was the reply. “I merely thought that my experience might be of some little service to you in an inquiry of this kind.”
“Not a doubt of it, sir,” said Bayne, and led the way with his lantern, for it was past sunset. On the road, the visitor asked if anybody had marked the accused stone. Henry said he should know it again. “That is right,” said the other.
On entering the room, this personage took Billy by the arm, and held him. “Let us have no false alarms,” he said, and blindfolded the boy with his handkerchief in a moment.
And now an examination commenced, which the time and the place rendered curious and striking.
It was a long, lofty room; the back part mainly occupied by the drums that were turned by the driving-power. The power was on the floor above, and acted by means of huge bands that came down through holes in the ceiling and turned the drums. From each of these drums came two leather bands, each of which turned a pulley-wheel, and each pulley-wheel a grindstone, to whose axle it was attached; but now the grindstones rested in the troughs, and the great wheel-bands hung limp, and the other bands lay along loose and serpentine. In the dim light of a single lamp, it all looked like a gigantic polypus with its limbs extended lazily, and its fingers holding semi-circular claws: for of the grindstones less than half is visible.
Billy was a timid creature, and this blindfolding business rather scared him: he had almost to be dragged within reach of these gaunt antennae. But each time they got him to touch a grindstone, his body changed its character from shrinking and doubtful, to erect and energetic, and he applied his test. This boy carried with him, night and day, a little wooden hammer, like an auctioneer's, and with this he now tapped each stone several times, searching for the one he had denounced: and, at each experiment, he begged the others to keep away from him and leave him alone with the subject of his experiment; which they did, and held up the lamp and threw the light on him.
Six heavy grindstones he tapped, and approved, three he even praised and called “good music.”
The seventh he struck twice, first gently, then hard and drew back from it, screaming “Oh, the bad music! Oh, the wheel of death!” and tried to tear the handkerchief from his eyes.