A cautious face appeared at the other side of a little window, and a moment afterwards the little postern-gate was opened wide enough to let her slip in, and speedily shut to with a clang by two men who were posted there in case any one should attempt to enter with her.
'Thank you. Will you take me to my father?' she said to the men, whom she recognised as old hands.
'He's in the dye-house, miss. They 're making a beautiful new colour, and the master's rare and pleased about it,' replied the elder man.
'But the fire? Doesn't he mind about the fire?' inquired the girl.
The man looked at her, not understanding. The fire's all right, miss; they made it a bit too hot this morning, but it's all right now. We've got proper stokers and all,' he assured her, evidently thinking she was afraid the engine was not being properly attended to, and alluded to that.
It flashed across Sarah that they did not know of the fire at Balmoral. Then her father did not know, and she would have to tell him! She went very slowly towards the dye-house. This possibility had never struck her. Even though they could not see Balmoral from Clay's Mills, there was the telephone, and the pickets outside; but then Sarah remembered that for some reason or other the telephone had been abandoned, and naturally the pickets would not for obvious reasons choose to give the news.
She found her father and George in the dye-room as she had been told, the former jubilant over the new shade, and George standing by apparently as interested as his father.
'What! Sally? There's a brave girl to come and see the prisoners! But it's an ill wind that blows no one any good. Here's George showing himself quite a business man, with the makings of a fine wool-merchant in him, and I never knew it. So that's all the strike has done—got them two Clays to fight instead of one,' cried Mr Clay, and Sarah was struck by her father's pride in George.
She did not answer, but stood looking appealingly at her brother.
Mr Clay misunderstood her, and said, 'You don't like the idea of a merchant-brother; but you'll have to get used to it. I don't mean to let him go back to college. He knows a lot of useful stuff, and these are ticklish times.'