"Hum!" said Grotait, with the air of one suddenly illuminated.
"What did I hear somebody say about these bands? Hum! Give me an hour or two to make inquiries."
"Don't say an hour or two, sir, when the men have got to make up lost time. We will give you a little grace; we will take a walk down street, and perhaps it will come to your recollection."
"Hum!" said Grotait; and as that was clearly all they were to get out of him just then they left and took a turn.
In half an hour they came back again, and sat down in the parlor.
Grotait soon joined them. "I've been thinking," said he, "what a pity it is we can't come to some friendly arrangement with intelligent masters, like Mr. Little, to deduct the natty money every week from the men's wages."
"Excuse me," said Bayne, "we are not here for discussion. We want our bands."
"Do you doubt that you will get them, sir? Did ever I break faith with master or man?"
"No, no," said the pacific Bayne, alarmed at the sudden sternness of his tone. "You are as square as a die--when you get it all your own way. Why, Mr. Little, Cheetham's bands were taken one day, and, when he had made the men pay their arrears, he was directed where to find the bands; but, meantime, somebody out of trade had found them, and stolen them. Down came bran-new bands to the wheel directly, and better than we had lost. And my cousin Godby, that has a water-wheel, was rattened, by his scythe-blades being flung in the dam.
He squared with Mary Anne, and then he got a letter to say where the blades were. But one was missing. He complained to Mr. Grotait here, and Mr. Grotait put his hand in his pocket directly, and paid the trade-price of the blade--three shillings, I think it was."
"Yes," said Grotait; "'but,' I remember I said at the time, 'you must not construe this that I was any way connected with the rattening.' But some are deaf to reason. Hallo!"
"What is the matter, sir?"
"Why, what is that in the fender? Your eyes are younger than mine."
And Mr. Grotait put up his gold double eyeglass, and looked with marked surprise and curiosity, at a note that lay in the fender.
Mr. Bayne had been present at similar comedies, and was not polite enough to indorse Mr. Grotait's surprise. He said, coolly, "It will be the identical note we are waiting for." He stooped down and took it out of the fender, and read it.
"'To Mr. LITTLE, or MR. BAYNE.
"'GENTLEMEN,--In the bottom hull turn up the horsing, and in the trough all the missing bands will be found. Apologizing for the little interruption, it is satisfactory things are all arranged without damage, and hope all will go agreeably when the rough edge is worn off. Trusting these nocturnal visits will be no longer necessary, I remain, "'THE SHY MAIDEN.'"
As soon as he had obtained this information, Bayne bustled off; but Mary Anne detained Henry Little, to moralize.
Said she, "This rattening for trade contributions is the result of bad and partial laws. If A contracts with B, and breaks his contract, B has no need to ratten A: he can sue him. But if A, being a workman, contracts with B and all the other letters, and breaks his contract, B and all the other letters have no legal remedy. This bad and partial law, occurring in a country that has tasted impartial laws, revolts common sense and the consciences of men. Whenever this sort of thing occurs in any civilized country, up starts that pioneer judge we call Judge Lynch; in other words, private men combine, and make their own laws, to cure the folly of legislatures. And, mark me, if these irregular laws are unjust, they fail; if they are just, they stand. Rattening could never have stood its ground so many years in Hillsborough, if it had not been just, and necessary to the place, under the partial and iniquitous laws of Great Britain."
"And pray," inquired Little, "where is the justice of taking a master's gear because his paid workman is in your debt?"
"And where is the justice of taking a lodger's goods in execution for the house-tenant's debt, which debt the said lodger is helping the said tenant to pay? We must do the best we can. No master is rattened for a workman's fault without several warnings. But the masters will never co-operate with justice till their bands and screws go. That wakes them up directly."
"Well, Mr. Grotait, I never knew you worsted in an argument: and this nut is too hard for my teeth, so I'm off to my work. Ratten me now and then for your own people's fault, if you are QUITE sure justice and public opinion demand it; but no more gunpowder, please."
"Heaven forbid, Mr. Little. Gunpowder! I abhor it."
