“I will, Mr Glaire. One of your workmen came secretly to me within the last half-hour to bid you be on your guard.”
“I haven’t been off,” said Richard, insolently. “Who was it?”
“That I cannot tell you,” said the vicar. “The man said he had been sworn to secrecy, but he did not like the business, and came at all risks to tell me.”
“It was that scoundrel, Tom Podmore,” cried Richard.
“It was not Podmore,” replied the vicar.
“Then it was that old villain, Joe Banks—an old hypocrite. Forced his way down the garden to me the other evening to bully me.”
“Richard, my boy, for heaven’s sake,” cried Mrs Glaire.
“It was not your old foreman, Mr Glaire,” said the vicar, quietly. “I have told you all. It is very little, but it may mean much. If you will take my advice you will counteract the people’s plans by opening your works to-morrow.”
“Yes, Richard, do!” exclaimed Mrs Glaire and Eve in a breath.
“I said I’d open them on a certain day, and I won’t stir a peg from that decision,” cried Richard, obstinately.