Sarah's School Friend Part 37

'No, sir; not except what Miss Clay said,' he replied.

Meanwhile Sarah was breathlessly hastening up the stairs, and telling George all that had happened.

'Why didn't you tell us before?' he demanded.

'Because we never imagined you didn't know. I thought every one in the town knew, and mother did try to telephone to you, but she couldn't make any one hear,' explained Sarah.

George groaned, but made no more reproaches, and soon they came out on the lookout.

The flames were still raging, though not so high. Evidently the petrol had burnt out; but not so the fire, alas!

'It will burn to the ground,' George remarked, as he stood there with gla.s.ses to his eyes. 'They are trying to save the west wing, but I doubt if they will.'

'Oh George, let me look! I never thought of using gla.s.ses! Why, you can see the people running about with buckets!' cried Sarah.

'It feels like a bit of myself gone; but you don't care, of course,' he remarked, as he reluctantly tore himself away to go down and tell his father.

'I do care. And, oh George, I'm awfully sorry for father! What will he do or say?' cried his sister.

'I don't know. But how did mother take it?' he asked.

'She said it was G.o.d's will. Somehow, I don't think it surprised her; she seemed to expect a disaster as soon as she knew about these foreigners being brought in, and I don't think she'll care if only father is safe,'

said Sarah.

'Poor mother; she doesn't think of herself at all. Still, I know the place is heavily insured. Father is too cautious a man not to see to that, though he'll never get those pictures or their value back again, nor his plate. I must try to break it to him; but it isn't a thing one can break,' said George.

'Well, boy, what's this story? Any truth in it? More trees burnt?' asked Mr Clay.

'They've done worse this time, father; they have managed to set fire to the house. But Uncle Howroyd is working for all he's worth, and so are his men, so let us hope they'll save the valuables,' said George.

He spoke so calmly and collectedly that his father failed to grasp the extent of the calamity.

'I don't rightly understand. Is it the house that's on fire, and which part?' he demanded. Evidently he only imagined that it was some small outbreak which would soon be got under.

George hesitated. 'It's got a good hold of the house, sir--the fire, I mean; but we can build it up again.'

'Build it up again? Build up Balmoral again? You don't know what you're talking about. There's a million sunk in that house,' he cried angrily, and yet he did not believe them till he saw George's pitying look.

'It's not really bad, my lad?' he asked.

'Yes, father, it's pretty bad; but the house is insured.'

The millionaire gave a yell of rage. 'If they've done it, by heaven they shall pay for it!' And he made a dash for the front entrance.

CHAPTER XXV.

'A BAD BUSINESS.'

After a moment of consternation, Sarah and her brother followed their father, and arrived at the front gate in time to see him dash out and down the street before the pickets on duty at the gate had seen what was happening, or had time to prevent his escape, if, indeed, they had wished to do so. Perhaps they felt that to prevent a man from going to rescue his property from destruction would be exceeding their duty, or perhaps they thought they had gone far enough, for they made no attempt to stop him, and looked after him with not unfriendly faces.

'He may run, but he'll not run so fast as the flames,' said one to the others.

'And you're a set of blackguards for what you've done, and I'd sooner be a blackleg any day than a blackguard,' shouted the watch inside the gate to the watch outside.

'I'd nought to do with it, Ben; I'm only obeying orders standing here, and there's no denying that the master's driven the lads to it. They've hot blood, and he's roused it,' replied the picket, who did not seem to resent the plain speaking of his former mate.

'No one is ever driven to setting other folk's homes on fire,' said the watchman bluntly.

'George, what do you think he's going to do?' demanded Sarah of her brother, who was standing, cigarette in mouth, listening with apparent indifference to the colloquy of the past and present hands.

'Gone to see what they are doing at Balmoral,' observed George.

'Hadn't you better go after him?' suggested his sister.

'I don't think so. Strikes me I'd better keep a lookout for possible air-s.h.i.+ps dropping down upon us here. They'll get a warm reception if they do,' said George with significance.

'I wonder where they got the air-s.h.i.+ps from. Naomi says it's the London agitators who have done it all,' said Sarah.

'Very likely. Well, it's a miserable business. I don't care for the men we've got here overmuch, though they do their work very well, and it was very clever of the governor to have got them here and at work so promptly,' said George.

'A good deal too clever! And see what the result has been! He tricked the hands, and the hands have tricked him, and he has come worst off so far,'

retorted Sarah.

'I don't know about that! There's a proverb which says, "He laughs longest who laughs last," and we've yet to see who that will be. So far, the men have burnt Balmoral, but that loss is insured against; but they have not bettered their position, and they are losing money, whereas the governor is making money by the change.'

'One would think it was you who didn't care now; you stand there smoking, as if nothing were the matter,' remarked Sarah.

'If you will tell me what good I should do by getting excited I might try it; but I don't know of anything to be gained by making a row. You'd better go back to mother, and tell her the mills are all right, that father's gone to see what he can do at Balmoral, and that I shall stop here until further notice. Try to put a good face on it, and cheer her up, Sarah. She isn't fit for all this worry,' urged her brother.

'I'll do my best,' replied Sarah; and she went back to her mother, and left her brother in charge of the mills and of the men.

The two porters at the gate were his devoted servants, and talked to him with the freedom of old workmen, as they deplored the present condition of things. 'And the sooner we see the backs of those chaps the better,'

said one. 'They are quick enough, but they're not thorough; and they'd chuck it up to-morrow if it weren't for the high wages they're bribed with.'

'I shouldn't have thought that would pay,' observed George in his usual lazy, indifferent way.

The man gave him a look, and said in a significant tone, 'It doesn't--at least, it wouldn't in the long-run; but it pays better than letting the mills "play," especially with this big contract on for blankets for abroad. The hands knew that, and that's why they struck. They thought the master'd have been obliged to give way to get it done. And so did I, and so he would have if he hadn't got those chaps by a miracle.'

'How did he get them?' inquired George, asking the same question that every one else was asking.

The man laughed, with an evident appreciation of the smartness that could accomplish what looked like a miracle, although he shook his head disapprovingly. 'He telephoned to somewhere abroad--I don't rightly know if 'twas France or Belgium; in fact, he've been 'phoning for days; and it seems there was a wool-mill shut down, and these men out of employ, and he had the whole lot brought over and put in here by midnight on Sunday.

They came in wagon-loads from a station ten miles off, and not a soul knew. Oh, he managed it well, did the master! But they laugh best who laugh last, as the saying is.'

George took a whiff of his cigarette. 'So you think the men will laugh the last? Do you think they'll burn the mills down?' he inquired.