For a long minute he stood in the dark corridor, wondering what he should do.
Two of the men belonging to the factory—Oscar Kleinweh, a German, and Samuel Levi, a little Jewish engineer—were true men and loyal to his father, but they had gone away when the factory was closed.
Alf's thoughts turned to his mother, who had gone to bed with a bad headache. Her room was in the next wing, and she would probably have heard nothing; he would not go to her.
There was no one of whom he could ask advice. Well, then, he must judge for himself.
"There's no help to be had nearer than the town," said he to himself, "and that's fifteen miles away."
Alf scampered upstairs.
"Quick, Niania, my clothes!" he said. "I'm the only one to go and get help, and I must start at once."
The nurse did not try to prevent him. She saw that the situation was desperate. The man-servant and coachman had joined the strikers, and would not have helped had they been on the spot. Everything now depended upon this boy, who was hardly more than a child.
"The key, Bert!" said Alf. "What have you done with it?"
"It is here," said nurse, "on a string round my neck, under my dress. It shall be quite safe; have no fear for that! Nor for your father. I am going to lock Bert into this room to keep him safer, while I go down and see if I cannot be of use to the master. But the villains will not dare to harm him. It is the money they want. But now how wilt thou go on thy quest, my pigeon? If thou take the sledge and horse, the men will be sure to see thee."