“In any case I must hasten home and stand by my father. Will you come with me?”
As soon as a cab could be procured they drove away, telling the driver to make all possible speed.
But the crowd reached Brent House before them, and it was a more ugly crowd than that of the week before. As Hancourt and Arthur entered the gate, Mr. Knight showed himself at the window, and this was a signal for all sorts of cries and execrations.
“Give us our rights!” “Hypocrite!” “Robber!” “Tyrant!” “Live and let live, can’t you?” “Do as you’d be done by, or it will be the worse for you!” “What did you turn Hancourt away for?” “And Hamilton?” “And Allen?” “Better men than you are!” These and worse things were shouted by the crowd, which presented a very threatening aspect.
“Come into the house,” said Arthur to Hancourt. “We can get in by the side door.”
“No; I will not come in. I will be among the men, and see if they will hear reason, while you go to your father.”
Arthur found Mr. Knight greatly excited.
“I wanted you to go for the police,” he said. “But I have sent for them, and they will be here soon. The wretches! I did not expect them to-day. I meant to have had the place guarded to-morrow, but they have stolen a march upon me. And yet I cannot think how they got in. Those stupid servants must have undone the gate for them. What a horrible noise they are making! But they are only bringing worse things upon themselves.”
“Father,” said Arthur, “it is a pity to have all this fuss if we can help it. You are going to let me have a voice in the business, are you not? And I will tell them so, and that there will be two of us to consider their claims and grievances.”
Before Mr. Knight could answer he threw open the window, and his clear voice rang through the crowd. “Men,” he said, “I want you to give us a little time——” A stone was thrown at him, which struck his head and knocked him down.