[There are savage murmurs from the crowd.]
BROWN. [A round-faced man.] Where could they get 'em then?
EVANS. [A small, restless, harassed man, with a fighting face.] There's always blacklegs; it's the nature of 'em. There's always men that'll save their own skins.
[Another savage murmur. There is a movement, and old THOMAS, joining the crowd, takes his stand in front.]
HARNESS. [Holding up his hand.] They can't get them. But that won't help you. Now men, be reasonable. Your demands would have brought on us the burden of a dozen strikes at a time when we were not prepared for them. The Unions live by justice, not to one, but all. Any fair man will tell you—you were ill-advised! I don't say you go too far for that which you're entitled to, but you're going too far for the moment; you've dug a pit for yourselves. Are you to stay there, or are you to climb out? Come!
LEWIS. [A clean-cut Welshman with a dark moustache.] You've hit it,
Mister! Which is it to be?
[Another movement in the crowd, and ROUS, coming quickly, takes
his stand next THOMAS.]
HARNESS. Cut your demands to the right pattern, and we 'll see you through; refuse, and don't expect me to waste my time coming down here again. I 'm not the sort that speaks at random, as you ought to know by this time. If you're the sound men I take you for—no matter who advises you against it—[he fixes his eyes on ROBERTS] you 'll make up your minds to come in, and trust to us to get your terms. Which is it to be? Hands together, and victory—or—the starvation you've got now?
[A prolonged murmur from the crowd.]
JAGO. [Sullenly.] Talk about what you know.