John turns to Martin, the faithful servant, the only one in the confidence of Rutherford. John feels himself safe with Martin. But he does not know that Martin, too, is dedicated to Moloch, broken by his twenty-five years of service, left without will, without purpose outside of the Rutherfords'.
Martin tries to enlist Rutherford's interest in behalf of John. But the old man decides that John must turn over his invention to the House of Rutherford.
Rutherford. What's your receipt?
John. I want to know where I stand.... I want my price.
Rutherford. Your price—your price? Damn your impudence, sir.... So that's your line, is it?... This is what I get for all I've done for you.... This is the result of the schooling I gave you. I've toiled and sweated to give you a name you'd be proud to own—worked early and late, toiled like a dog when other men were taking their ease—plotted and planned to get my chance, taken it and held it when it come till I could ha' burst with the struggle. Sell! You talk o' selling to me, when everything you'll ever make couldn't pay back the life I've given to you!
John. Oh, I know, I know. I've been both for five years. Only I've had no salary.
Rutherford. You've been put to learn your business like any other young fellow. I began at the bottom—you've got to do the same.... Your father has lived here, and your grandfather before you. It's your inheritance—can't you realize that?—what you've got to come to when I'm under ground. We've made it for you, stone by stone, penny by penny, fighting through thick and thin for close on a hundred years.... It's what you've got to do—or starve. You're my son—you've got to come after me.
Janet knows her father better than John; she knows that "no one ever stands out against father for long—or else they get so knocked about, they don't matter any more." Janet knows, and when the moment arrives that brings her father's blow upon her head, it does not come as a surprise to her. When old Rutherford discovers her relation with Martin, his indignation is as characteristic of the man as everything else in his life. It is not outraged morality or a father's love. It is always and forever the House of Rutherford. Moreover, the discovery of the affair between his daughter and his workman comes at a psychologic moment: Rutherford is determined to get hold of John's invention—for the Rutherfords, of course—and now that Martin has broken faith with his master, his offense serves an easy pretext for Rutherford to break faith with Martin. He calls the old servant to his office and demands the receipt of John's invention, entrusted to Martin. On the latter's refusal to betray John, the master plays on the man's loyalty to the Rutherfords.
Rutherford. Rutherfords' is going down—down. I got to pull her up, somehow. There's one way out.... Mr. John's made this metal—a thing, I take your word for it, that's worth a fortune. And we're going to sit by and watch him fooling it away—selling it for a song to Miles or Jarvis, that we could break to-morrow if we had half a chance.... You've got but to put your hand in your pocket to save the place and you don't do it. You're with them—you're with the money-grubbing little souls that can't see beyond the next shilling they put in their pockets.... When men steal, Martin, they do it to gain something. If I steal this, what'll I gain by it? If I make money, what'll I buy with it? Pleasure, maybe? Children to come after me—glad o' what I done? Tell me anything in the wide world that'd bring me joy, and I'll swear to you never to touch it.... If you give it to me what'll you gain by it? Not a farthing shall you ever have from me—no more than I get myself.
Martin. And what will Mr. John get for it?
Rutherford. Rutherfords'—when I'm gone. He'll thank you in ten years—he'll come to laugh at himself—him and his price. He'll see the Big Thing one day, mebbe, like what I've done. He'll see that it was no more his than 'twas yours to give nor mine to take.... It's Rutherfords'.... Will you give it to me?
Martin. I take shame to be doing it now.... He worked it out along o' me. Every time it changed he come running to show me like a bairn wi' a new toy.
Rutherford. It's for Rutherfords'....
Rutherfords' ruthlessly marches on. If the Rutherford purpose does not shrink from corrupting its most trusted servant, it surely will not bend before a daughter who has dared, even once in her life, to assert herself.
Rutherford. How far's it gone?
Janet. Right at first—I made up my mind that if you ever found out, I'd go right away, to put things straight. He wanted to tell you at the first. But I knew that it would be no use.... It was I said not to tell you.
Rutherford. Martin ... that I trusted as I trust myself.
Janet. You haven't turned him away—you couldn't do that!
Rutherford. That's my business.
Janet. You couldn't do that ... not Martin....
Rutherford. Leave it—leave it ... Martin's my servant, that I pay wages to. I made a name for my children—a name respected in all the countryside—and you go with a workingman.... To-morrow you leave my house. D'ye understand? I'll have no light ways under my roof. No one shall say I winked at it. You can bide the night. To-morrow when I come in I'm to find ye gone.... Your name shan't be spoken in my house ... never again.
Janet. Oh, you've no pity.... I was thirty-six. Gone sour. Nobody'd ever come after me. Not even when I was young. You took care o' that. Half of my life was gone, well-nigh all of it that mattered.... Martin loves me honest. Don't you come near! Don't you touch that!... You think that I'm sorry you've found out—you think you've done for me when you use shameful words on me and turn me out o' your house. You've let me out o' jail! Whatever happens to me now, I shan't go on living as I lived here. Whatever Martin's done, he's taken me from you. You've ruined my life, you with your getting on. I've loved in wretchedness, all the joy I ever had made wicked by the fear o' you.... Who are you? Who are you? A man—a man that takes power to himself, power to gather people to him and use them as he wills—- a man that'd take the blood of life itself and put it into the Works—into Rutherfords'. And what ha' you got by it—what? You've got Dick, that you've bullied till he's a fool—John, that's waiting for the time when he can sell what you've done—and you got me—me to take your boots off at night—to well-nigh wish you dead when I had to touch you.... Now!... Now you know it!
But for the great love in her heart, Janet could not have found courage to face her father as she did. But love gives strength; it instills hope and faith, and kindles anew the fires of life. Why, then, should it not be strong enough to break the fetters of even Rutherfords'? Such a love only those famished for affection and warmth can feel, and Janet was famished for life.
Janet. I had a dream—a dream that I was in a place wi' flowers, in the summer-time, white and thick like they never grow on the moor—but it was the moor—a place near Martin's cottage. And I dreamt that he came to me with the look he had when I was a little lass, with his head up and the lie gone out of his eyes. All the time I knew I was on my bed in my room here—but it was as if sweetness poured into me, spreading and covering me like the water in the tarn when the rains are heavy in the fells.... That's why I dreamt of him so last night. It was as if all that was best in me was in that dream—what I was as a bairn and what I'm going to be. He couldn't help but love me. It was a message—I couldn't have thought of it by myself. It's something that's come to me—here (putting her hands on her breast). Part of me!