The miners had gathered round their comrade in the meantime, and much dissatisfaction was expressed among them at the way their future master had behaved to him. It seemed to give them great offence that he should have, for the time being at least, eluded all expression of gratitude. Many dark looks, many cutting remarks passed; even the Manager wrinkled his brow, and, for a wonder, uttered no word in Arthur's defence.
He was still trying to stanch the blood, and was actively aided therein by Martha, whose face betrayed anxiety so unmistakable that it must have struck even Ulric, had not his eyes been turned in quite a different direction. Long and gloomily he gazed after the party which had just left him. Clearly his thoughts were taken up by something far other than the pain of his wound.
As the old man was placing a temporary bandage on his son's bleeding brow, he noticed that Ulric still held the lace handkerchief in his hand.
"That cobweb," said he, with unusual bitterness, "that embroidered cobweb would have been a great deal of use to us! Give it to Martha, Ulric, she can restore it to her ladyship."
Ulric looked down at the dainty little thing which lay so softly between his fingers; as Martha stretched out her hand for it, he raised it quickly and pressed it to his wound, staining the delicate lace a deep red.
"What are you about?" said his father, half-astonished, half-angry. "Are you going to stop up a hole in your head an inch deep with that thing? I should think we had handkerchiefs enough of our own."
"Yes, yes, I did not think what I was doing," returned Ulric shortly. "Let it be, Martha, it is spoilt now any way!" and, so saying, he thrust it into his blouse.
The girl's hands, which had been so busy, fell down idly all at once, and she stood by while the Manager adjusted and secured the bandage. Her eyes were fixed wonderingly on Ulric's face. Why had he been in such a hurry to spoil the pretty thing? Was it because he did not want to give it back?
The young miner certainly possessed no special aptitude for the rôle of a sick man. He had shown himself very impatient of the services rendered him, and it had needed all his father's authority to induce him to submit to them. Now he stood up and declared emphatically that it was enough, and that he must be left in peace.
"Let him alone, an obstinate fellow!" said the Manager. "You know well there is nothing to be done with him. We shall hear what the doctor says. You are a pretty sort of hero, Ulric! You would not lend a helping hand with the arch built in honour of the family; on no account, it would be demeaning yourself! but you can throw yourself under the horses' feet when they are running away with the said family, without one thought for the old father who has nobody in the world but his son to look to! You don't mind doing that! Ah! that is being what you call 'logical' in your new-fangled speech. Now, you lads who follow your lord and master in everything, it will do no harm this time if you take example by him."