'But those foreigners don't understand you. What will you do with them?' inquired Sarah.
'Nothing. I shall send them off the minute this contract is done,' said George. 'That is to say, if Uncle Howroyd approves.'
'What are you going to do with my approval, my lad?' demanded William Howroyd, coming in and putting his hand for a moment kindly on his nephew's shoulder.
Sarah was struck by his serious and troubled face. She wondered whether it was anxiety for his brother's health or sorrow for the misdeeds of the Ousebank men. She did not know that there was a third reason added to these two; but she soon was to know it.
'I want to pack off those men as soon as the contract we have in hand is finished,' said George.
'They've saved you and me any trouble, George, lad. They've discharged themselves,' said Mr Howroyd gravely.
George looked at his uncle aghast. 'You mean that the foreigners have gone—without a minute's warning?' he asked.
'They have that,' replied Mr Howroyd.
'But why did they suddenly do that? They seemed to go back to work willingly enough after their dinner,' said George.
'It seems they had some means of communicating with the outside world. When they heard of your poor father's illness, and were told he was ruined, and his house even burnt down, they decided to leave a sinking ship,' said Mr Howroyd.