Bessy Rane: A Novel

by Mrs. Henry Wood

The matter was this. A contract had just been offered to North and Gass. It was a very large one, and would certainly, if accepted, keep the men employed for some time. It was offered at a certain price. Richard North made his calculations and found that he could accept it, provided the men would work on the former terms: but he could not if the rate of wages had to be raised. Considering the present hopeless condition of the men, imagining that they must have had very nearly sufficient experience of idleness and empty cupboards to bring them to reason, he determined to lay the proposal before them--that they might accept or reject it. In a clear and concise manner he stated this, and the men heard him respectfully to the end. One of them then advanced a few steps before the rest, and answered. Answered without the smallest deliberation; without so much as a pretence of inquiring what the feelings of his fellows might be.

"We can't do it, sir."

Richard North raised his hand for silence, as if the man had spoken before his time.

"Do you fully understand the case in all its bearings?" resumed Richard: "if not, take time to reflect until you do understand it. Look at it well; take into consideration the future as well as the present. Listen again. This contract has been offered me: it is a good one, as you must know. It will set our works going again; it will be the means of bringing back the business that seems to be drifting more hopelessly away from us day by day. It will provide you with, employment, with wages that you not so long ago thought liberal; and will place you again in what may be called prosperity--great prosperity as compared with what exists at present. Your homes may be homes of plenty again, your children have sufficient food. In short, both to you and to me, this contract offers just the turn of the tide. I wish to accept it: I see nothing but ruin before my father and myself if I cannot do so: what I see before you I do not care to speak of, if you are not wise enough to see it for yourselves. The decision lies with you, unfortunately; I wish it lay with myself. Shall I take it, or shall I not?"

"We couldn't return at them rate of wages, nohow," spoke up a voice from the crowd.

"It is the last chance that I shall offer you," proceeded Richard. "For your sakes I would strongly advise you to take it. Heaven is my witness that I am honest in saying 'for your sakes.' We have been associated together for many years, and I cannot see the breaking up of old ties without first using every effort to re-unite them. I must give my answer tomorrow, and accept this work or reject it. Little time is allowed me for decision, therefore I am unable to give much to you. Virtually the acceptance or rejection lies with you; for, without you, I could not fulfil it: but I cannot help a remark in passing, that for such a state of things to exist argues something rotten at the core in the relations between master and men. At six o'clock tomorrow morning the great bell shall be rung, calling you to work as formerly. My men, I hope you will all respond to it."

No, not at the terms offered, was the answer gathered by Richard North from the buzz that rose around.

"I cannot offer you better. I have said that this is the last chance," repeated Richard. "I shall never give you the option of working for me again."

The men couldn't help that. The fact was, they only half believed it. One ventured a supposition that if the works were sold, the new firm might give them work on new terms.

"No," said Richard North. "I am very different from you, my men. You see work at your very hand, and will not do it. You look forward to the future with, as I must suppose, easy apathy, giving neither care nor anxiety as to how you and your families are to live. I, on the contrary, am only anxious to work; at a reduced rate of profit, on a smaller scale if it must be; but, any way, to work. Night after night I lie awake, tormented with lively apprehensions for the future. What seemed, when you first turned out, to be a mere temporary stoppage, that reason and good sense on both our sides could not fail to rectify, has assumed gigantic proportions and a permanent aspect. After some time I gave way; offering to split the difference, as to wages, if you would return----"