"Leave 'em to me," he answered. "I'm in th' mood fur 'em now."
But it was not until some time afterward that he delivered the message Rachel Ffrench had intrusted to him.
On hearing it her father appeared to rally a little.
"It seems a rather dangerous thing to do," he said, "but—it is like her. And perhaps, after all, there is something in—in showing no fear."
And for a few moments after having thought the incident over he became comparatively sanguine and cheerful.
As Floxham had predicted, when the work-bell called the hands together again there were still other places vacant. Mr. Briarley, it may be observed, had been absent all day, and by this time was listening with affectionate interest and spasmodic attacks of inopportune enthusiasm to various inflammatory speeches which were being made at a beer house.
Toward evening the work lagged so that the over-lookers could no longer keep up the semblance of ignorance. A kind of gloom settled upon them also, and they went about with depressed faces.
"It'll be all up to-morrow," said one, "if there's nothing done."
But something was done.
Suddenly—just before time for the last bell to ring—Haworth appeared at the door of the principal room.