“And without the willows and lilies and silver buttercups, Cob,” said Uncle Jack.
“And the great jack and chub and tench we used to fish out,” said Uncle Bob.
“Yes,” I said; “I suppose one would catch old saucepans, dead cats, and old shoes in a dirty pool like this.”
“Yes,” said Uncle Dick, “and our wheel-bands when the trades’-union people attack us.”
“Why should they throw them in here?” I said, as I looked at the great deep-looking piece of water held up by a strong stone-built dam, and fed by a stream at the farther end.
“Because it would be the handiest place. These are our works.”
I looked at the stone-built prison-like place in disgust. It was wonderfully strongly-built, and with small windows protected by iron bars, but such a desolate unornamental spot. It stood low down by the broad shallow stream that ran on toward the town in what must once have been the bed of the river; but the steep banks had been utilised by the builders on each side, and everywhere one saw similar-looking places so arranged that their foundation walls caught and held up the water that came down, and was directed into the dam, and trickled out at the lower end after it had turned a great slimy water-wheel. “This is our place, boys; come and have a look at it.” He led us down a narrow passage half-way to the stream, and then rang at a gate in a stone wall; and while we waited low down there I looked at the high rough stone wall and the two-storied factory with its rows of strong iron-barred windows, and thought of what Mr Tomplin had said the night before, coming to the conclusion that it was a pretty strong fortress in its way. For here was a stout high wall; down along by the stream there was a high blank wall right from the stones over which the water trickled to the double row of little windows; while from the top corner by the water-wheel, which was fixed at the far end of the works, there was the dam of deep water, which acted the part of a moat, running off almost to a point where the stream came in, so that the place was about the shape of the annexed triangle: the works occupying the whole of the base, the rest being the deep stone-walled dam.
“I think we could keep out the enemy if he came,” I said to Uncle Bob; and just then a short-haired, palefaced man, with bent shoulders, bare arms, and an ugly squint, opened the gate and scowled at us.
“Is your master in?” said Uncle Dick.
“No-ah,” said the man sourly; “and he wean’t be here to-day.”