“Then it was thou as coot the bands,” cried Joe, seizing him by the throat. “Thou cunning fox, thou’st trapped after all. It’s thou as browt all this trouble on uz wi’ thy coward’s trick. It was thou as clomb into wucks through the window, and coot all the bands, and left thee knife behind to bear witness again thee. Look at him, lads; he canno’ say it wean’t.”
“And he don’t want to,” cried Sim, shaking himself free. “I did it all by my sen as a punishment to a bad maister as knows nowt but nastiness; and now we’re a-going to come down o’ him wi’ tenfold violence. Bands is nowt to what we’re a-going to do.”
There was a cheer at this, and the men who were beginning to be wroth against Sim and his companion, and who would have severely punished him a short time back, lost all thought of the dastardly escapade in the savage attack they meant to make.
“Look here, Joe Banks,” continued Sim, whose words came freely enough now without the aid of the deputation, “we’re a-going to do something as shall let ’em see what your honest British workman can do, when he’s been trampled down, and rises up in his horny-handed majesty to show as he’s a man, and to teach all the masters of England to treat their men as if they were Christians—like brothers as helps ’em to bloat and fatten on the corn and wine, and oil olive and unney as the horny-handed hand pro—”
“Curse your long-winded speeches!” cried the foreman, savagely, “are you going to talk for ever?”
“Don’t be excited, my friend,” said Barker, smoothly.
“We’re a-going to startle the whole world,” cried Sim, not heeding the interruption, as he stood now with one foot upon the keg; “startle the whole world with the report, and the savour shall go up to make the British workman free. Mates, lads, and fellow-workers, we’re going to—”
“That’s powther, I suppose?” said Banks, pointing to the keg.
“Yes,” cried Sim, “and—”
“You mean to blow up the wucks?” said Banks, with a sombre look in his countenance.