While James had been speaking, the others had been smoking in silence. Mr. Barton was surprised, although he said nothing, and the others were accustomed to his talk, which was indeed far beyond his age and station. When he ceased there was a moment’s silence, and then John Holl said,—
“Well spoken, James, spoken out like a man, ay, and a clever man, too. I don’t quite know all you were saying, not having learning myself; but I am proud to hear you, James, and I feel more than repaid, if it were only to hear you talk like that, for any trouble we may have had with you, my boy. Now, brother Will, you ain’t got nothing to say to that; give it up, man, for Bessy’s sake if not your own; give it up, and go to work again like a man.”
“I have plenty to say against it if I choose, John,” William said. “James talks very well, looking at it in the light he does, and, I will say fairly, puts his side stronger than I ever heard it put before; but he talks from books, and not from real life. He does not know how we are put upon—how should he?”
“Ah, that’s what you always fall back upon, uncle,” James said, laughing. “You are put upon; it is very vague, and therefore, unsupported as it is by a single fact, very difficult to disprove. How I wish I was like other people. I should like to go to one of your meetings, and speak there. You get together, you are all the same side, and you talk and talk, and back each other up, till you think there is nothing to be said on the other side of the question.”
“Lor bless you,” Perkins said, “they wouldn’t let you speak; don’t you go to think that; if you didn’t agree with them they wouldn’t hear a word you had to say, and you might think yourself very lucky if you got out of the place as whole as you went in. I’ve been to some of these sort of places, but the more I find they talk about liberty, the less they will give it to any one else.”
“Do you know, Perkins, I should like to go to one of these Chartist meetings. I have heard James talk it over so often, that I think I could tell them a thing or two.”
“Look here, John,” the prize-fighter said, “I don’t like these things, but I should not mind it for once for a lark. So if you go, here’s one with you. What do you say, William, will you take us?”
“I don’t know when there will be one,” William Holl said, evasively, glancing at A 56.
“You need not mind me, William Holl,” the policeman said; “we’ve no instructions about you yet. When we have, be as cunning as you like, we shall soon find out all about your goings on; but if you will take my advice, you will drop it. James has put it very straight and right, and I drink his health, and it would be better for some of you if you had a little of his sense. You will find yourself in the wrong box one of these days.”
William Holl only shook his head, and then rose, saying it was past nine and it was time to be off. So his wife put her bonnet on, and all took their leave, including Mr. Barton, who had, as was his wont, spoken very little, but who had listened attentively, especially when James was speaking, as if desirous of judging as far as possible of the lad’s character.