He began to see the meaning and possibility of her simple, woman's plan, and got up, ready to follow her. And then he found that the want of food and the long day had worn upon him so that he was weak. She put her arm beneath his and tried to support him.
"Lean on me, my dear," she said. "I'm stronger than you think."
They went out, leaving the empty room and the pistol on the table and the dim light burning. And then they had locked the gate and were outside with the few stars shining above and the great black Works looming up before them.
He stopped a moment to look back and up and remembered the key. Suddenly he raised it in his hand and flung it across the top of the locked gate; they heard it fall inside upon the pavement with a clang.
"They'll wonder how it came there," he said. "They'll take down the name to-morrow. 'Haworth's' is done with!"
He turned to her and said, "Come." His voice was a little stronger. They went down the lane together, and were lost in the darkness.
CHAPTER LIII. "A BIT O' GOOD BLACK."
Granny Dixon was interred with pomp and ceremony, or, at least, with what appeared pomp and ceremony in the eyes of the lower social stratum of Broxton.