“It was John Ross that planned it and put me up to it. When he died, I wondered if he hadn’t told you or Mr. Villard. Ever since then, I’ve been trying to, but somehow I couldn’t—tell Mr. Villard—nor you neither.—It was John Ross that planned it. He called me a coward and a scab—and, finally, well—you know I was a crazy fool then, with the rest of ’em.—It ain’t no use talkin’, miss, but we all discussed and brooded over things until we were half out of our heads. If any one of us had weakened first, we’d all give up, and the strike would have bu’st; but—well, ’tain’t no use talkin’, I s’pose. I’ve confessed, and you can have me put in irons, if you want to.”
“How did you come to want to tell me, John?” Salome said softly.
“Oh, miss, when I found how you saved the mill that night, and the lives of those two men, I went down on my knees with thankfulness. It somehow seemed to open my eyes to where I’d been standin’. Then, when the mills opened and you took us back, and when you commenced to take an interest in us; when you built that beautiful big Hall, and all them cottages; and, if you’ll pardon me for sayin’ it, when you begun walkin’ thro’ the mills yourself, speakin’ a pleasant word to us all and smilin’ at us as if we were all your equals, miss—and you a saint,——it was then I seemed no better’n a murderer. And when John Ross died, and the detectives gave up lookin’ for the men, it was bore in on me as how I ought to confess; and to-day, when Mr. Villard called me into the office and praised my work, and said I’d been faithful and trustworthy——trustworthy, ma’am!—why, then, I couldn’t stand it no longer.”
The young man stood silent in the moonlight. Salome’s eyes were filled with tears.
“John,” she said, “you are a noble fellow. It is no more than right that you should confess this to me, but not all fellows in your place could do it. You can because you have the making of a man in you.”
The young man looked up.
“And what are you goin’ to do with me?” he asked.
“Will you do just what I say?” returned Salome.
“I will, indeed,” he said.
“Then I want you to go to Mr. Villard to-morrow morning and tell him you accept the place. Then do your best, and deserve better things in future.”