How dear to him was all this false reputation, which cost so little except in secret mental twinges! He doubted whether a respectability honestly worked for would have yielded him nearly so keen an enjoyment; and he was determined to hold on to that which he had gained. Where to look for Piper, and just how to dispose of him, was the problem now before him. But he began to feel easier, and his thoughts returned to the impending labor revolt.
It was desirable to see Scofield in private, and with this end in view he drove out to the cottage again at evening.
On entering the little sitting-room he was annoyed to find a stranger there comfortably adjusted in a rocking-chair.
"I didn't know you had company here," he observed frigidly, eying Scofield.
"Oh, that won't interfere!" said Scofield. "It's only Mr. Piper; the man that—"
"Piper!" ejaculated Hounshell, in a voice harsh with horror.
The stranger looked up at him astonished.
"Yes," said the weaver. "Mr. Piper, this is our boss, Mr. Hounshell."
It was all over—so the miller thought. He stood staring, waiting for Simeon Piper to spring up with deadly denunciation on his lips. But that individual merely bowed and inspected his vis-à-vis with a good-natured air. The only thing worthy of remark about him was that there was a sort of pained blankness in his face; and as he met Hounshell's fixed gaze he lifted one hand and pressed his forehead vaguely for an instant. The other man was quick to take the respite offered.
"I'm glad to see you looking so well, Mr. Piper," he said, exhibiting his smile with great success. "I've heard about your escape."