“I have it!” cried a man, the expression of whose face was a sad mixture of sensuality, shrewdness, and malice. “I’ll just tell you what we’ll do. You know how people keeps saying—‘What a changed man Johnson is! how respectable and clean he looks! how tidy he’s dressed when he goes to church on a Sunday!—you’ve only to look in his face to see he’s a changed man.’ Now, I’ll just tell you what we’ll do, if you’ve a mind to stand by me and give me a help. It’ll do him no harm in the end, and’ll just take a little of the conceit out on him. And won’t it just spoil their sport at the meeting!”
“Tell us what it is, man,” cried all the others eagerly.
“Well, you know the water-butt at the back of Thomas’s house. Well, you can reach the windows of the chamber by standing on the butt. The window’s not hard to open, for I’ve often seen Alice throw it up; and I’m sure it’s not fastened. Now, just suppose we waits till the night afore the meeting; that’ll be the twenty-second—there’ll be no moon then. Thomas won’t be in the night-shift that week. I know he sleeps sound, for I’ve heard their Betty say as it were the only thing as kept ’em up, that they slept both on ’em so well. Suppose, then, as we gets a goodish-sized furze bush or two, and goes round to the back about two o’clock in the morning. We must have a rope or two; then we must take off our clogs, and climb up by the water-butt. The one as goes up first must have a dark lantern. Well, then, we must creep quietly in, and just lap a rope loosely round the bed till we’re all ready. Then we’ll just tighten the rope so that he can’t move, and I’ll scratch his sweet face all over with the furze; and one of you chaps must have some gunpowder and lamp-black ready to rub it well into his face where it’s been scratched. You must stuff a clout into his mouth if he offers to holler. We can do it all in two minutes by the help of the lantern. The light’ll dazzle him so as he’ll not be able to make any on us out; and then we must slip out of the window and be off afore he’s had time to wriggle himself out of the ropes. Eh, won’t he be a lovely pictur next day!—his best friends, as they say, won’t know him. Won’t he just look purty at the meeting! There’s a model teetottaller for you! Do you think he’ll have the face to say then, ‘You’ve heard, ladies and gentlemen, what I once was; you see what I am now?’ Oh, what a rare game it’ll be!”
This proposition was received by the rest of the company with roars of laughter and the fullest approbation.
“It’ll be first-rate,” said Jones, “if we can only manage it.”
“Surely,” said another, “he’ll never dare show his face out of the door.”
“Ah, but,” suggested one, “what about Betty? She’s sure to wake and spoil it all. It’s too risky, with her sleeping close by.”
“No,” said another man, “it’ll just be all right. Betty’ll be off at Rochdale visiting her aunt. Our Mary heard Fanny Higson and Betty talking it over at the mill a day or two since. ‘So you’ll not be at the meeting?’ says Fanny. ‘Why not?’ says Betty. ‘’Cos you’ll be off at your aunt’s at Rochdale,’ says Fanny. ‘Ah, but I’m bound to be back for the meeting, and hear fayther tell his tale,’ says Betty. ‘I’ll be back some time in the forenoon, to see as fayther has his Sunday shirt and shoes, and his clothes all right, and time enough to dress myself for the meeting. Old Jenny’ll see to fayther while I’m off. It’ll be all right if I’m at home some time in the forenoon.’ So you see, mates, it couldn’t be better; as the parson says, it’s quite a providence.”
“Well, what say you?” cried Will Jones. “Shall we strike hands on it?”
All at once shook hands, vowing to serve out poor Johnson.