I shook my head.
“Paid me pound a-week all the time I was badly, my lad.”
“And very kind of them too,” I said warmly.
“Ay, ’twas. Felt at times, lad, as if I warn’t worth the money, that I did.”
Just then Stevens made his appearance, crossing from the grinders’ shop to one of the smithies at the end; and as he went along at some distance I saw him look curiously over at where I was standing talking to Pannell.
“Theer it is again,” said the latter. “You mean well, lad, and it’s very kind on you; but I shall hev it ’fore long on account o’ talking to thee.”
“Oh, surely not!” I cried angrily. “The men will never be such cowards as to attack you for that.”
“Men weant, but trade will,” said Pannell. “Mates can’t do as they like about it. Look ye yonder; what did I say?”
He nodded in the direction of Stevens, who had returned directly, stopped opposite the smithy, but at some distance, and as soon as I looked up he began to signal to me to go to him.
I never liked the man, for he always seemed to dislike me, and I gave him the credit of being one of the active parties in the outrages that had been committed upon us. But I remembered what our plans were to be—frank, straightforward, and fearless—and I walked right up to Stevens, whose brow was lowering and full of menace.