Chapter Sixty.
At Last.
The work of two years was complete, and I stood by Hallett as he watched the trial of the machine where it was set up at our great factory; and though we tried hard to find weak points, we were compelled to declare that it was as near perfection as human hands could make it.
Hallett was very pale and quiet; he displayed no excitement, no joy; and I felt rather disappointed at his apathy.
“Well,” said Mr Jabez, aside to me, “if I didn’t know that the poor fellow was ill, I should have said that he didn’t care that! whether the thing succeeded or not.”
That! was the snap of the fingers which followed the taking of a pinch of snuff.
But he was ill. Poor fellow! He never seemed to have recovered from the shock his system had received during his late illness; and, though he had rallied and seemed strong and well, there had been times when he would turn ghastly white, and startle me by his looks.
I mentioned it more than once to Miss Carr, who begged him to see a physician; but he said it was nothing, and with a smile he used to tell her that the perfection of the machine and a change would completely restore him to health.
This we both believed;—and I can honestly say that I strove with all my might to inspire the workmen with the spirit in which I toiled.
And now the new machine was finished. All that remained was to have it removed to Mr Ruddle’s place for a public inspection of its merits.