Mrs. Halliburton's Troubles Part 116

William made no reply. He carefully swept the dozens that Cyril had made up, farther down the counter, that they might be in a stronger light.

"What's that for?" cried Cyril. "How dare you meddle with my work? They are done as well as you can do them, any day."

"Now, where's the use of flying into this pa.s.sion, Cyril? What's it for?

Do you suppose I go over your work again for pleasure, or to find fault with it? I do it because the master has ordered me to make up every dozen that goes out; and if you do it first of all, it is sheer waste of time. See here," added William, holding two or three pairs towards him, "_these_ will not do for firsts."

Angry Cyril! He was quite beside himself with anger. It was not this trifling matter in the daily business that would have excited him; but Mr. Ashley's rejection, his words altogether, had turned Cyril's blood into gall; and this was made the outlet. He dashed the gloves out of William's hand to the farthest corner of the room, and struck him a powerful blow on the chest. It caused William to stagger: he was unprepared for it; but whether he would have returned it must remain uncertain. Before there was time or opportunity, Cyril found himself whirled backwards by a hand as powerful as his own; and a voice of stern authority was demanding the meaning of the scene.

The hand, the voice, were those of the master.

CHAPTER XVII.

THE EXPLOSION.

"What is the meaning of this, Cyril Dare?"

Had Cyril supposed that the master was so close at hand, he had subdued his pa.s.sion to something short of striking a blow. He stood against the counter, his brow lowering, his eye furious; William looked angry too.

Mr. Ashley, calm and dignified, waited for an answer.

None came. Cyril was too excited to speak.

"Will you explain it?" said the master, turning to William. "Fighting in my counting-house!"

"I cannot, sir," replied William, recovering his equanimity. "I do not understand it. I did nothing to provoke him, that I am aware of. It is true I said I must go over the gloves again that he had made up."

"What are those gloves flung there?"

"I was showing them to him--that they were not fit for firsts."

"They are fit for firsts!" retorted Cyril, breaking his silence. "I know I did put a pair in that was not up to the mark."

The master went and picked up the gloves himself. Taking them to the light, he turned them about in his hands.

"I should put two of these pairs as seconds, and one as thirds,"

remarked he. "You must have been asleep when you put this one among the firsts," he continued, indicating the latter pair, and speaking to Cyril Dare. "It has a flaw in it."

"Of course you will uphold Halliburton, sir, whatever he may say. That has been the case for a long time past."

He spoke in an insolent tone; such as none within the walls of that manufactory had ever dared to use to the master. The master turned upon him, speaking quietly and significantly.

"You forget yourself, Cyril Dare."

"All he does is right, and all I do is wrong," persisted Cyril. "You treat him, sir, just as though you considered him the gentleman, instead of me."

A half-smile, which had too much mockery in it to please Cyril, crossed the lips of Mr. Ashley. "What's that you say about being a gentleman, Cyril? Repeat it, will you? I should like to hear it again."

Mockery and double mockery! Cyril's suggestive ears detected it in the tone, if no other ears could do so. It did not improve his temper. "The thing is this, sir: I won't submit to this state of affairs any longer.

I was not placed here to be ruled over by him; and if things can't be put upon a better footing, one of us must leave."

"Then, as it has come to this explosion, I say the same," struck in William. "It is high time that things were put upon a better footing.

Cyril, you have forced me to speak, and you must take the consequences.

Sir," turning to the master, "my authority over the men is ridiculed in their hearing. It ought not to be so."

"By whom?" demanded the master.

"You can ask that question of Cyril, sir."

The master did ask it of Cyril. "Have you done this?"

"Possibly I have," innocently returned Cyril.

"You know you have," rejoined William.

"Only yesterday, when I was giving directions to the stainers, he derided all I said, and one of them inquired whether I had received orders for what I was telling them. If the authority vested in me is to be undermined, the men will soon set it at naught."

Mr. Ashley looked provoked; more so than William ever remembered to have seen him. He paused a moment, his lips quivering angrily, and then flung open the counting-house door.

"d.i.c.k!"

d.i.c.k, a young tinker of ten, black in clothes and in skin, came flying at the summons and its unusually stern tone. "Please, sir?"

"Ring the large bell."

d.i.c.k stared with all his eyes at hearing the words. To ring the large bell between ten and eleven o'clock in the morning was a marvel that had never happened in d.i.c.k's experience. But the master's orders were to be obeyed, not questioned; and d.i.c.k, rang out a prolonged peal. The master looked into the serving-room.

"James Meeking, I have ordered the bell rung for the men. Pa.s.s the word for them to come into my room; and do you and East come with them."

The men appeared, flocking from all parts of the premises, their astonishment certainly not inferior to d.i.c.k's. What could be the meaning of the wholesale summoning to the presence of the master? They stood there crowding, a sea of curious faces. d.i.c.k, consigned to the background, climbed up the door-post, and held on by it in a mysterious manner.

Mr. Ashley drew William to his side, and laid his hand upon him.

"It has been told to me that the authority vested in Mr. Halliburton has not been implicitly obeyed by every one in the manufactory. I have called you before me to give you my instructions personally upon the point, that there may be no misunderstanding in the future. Whatever directions he may see well to give, you will receive them from him, as you would from myself. I invest him with full and complete power. And in all my absences from the manufactory, whether they may be of an hour's, a day's, or any longer duration, Mr. Halliburton is its master."

They touched their hair, turned and went out as far as the serving-room, collecting there to talk. In a short time, one of them was seen coming back again; a grey-haired man, a sorter of leather. He addressed himself to Mr. Ashley.

"We have not disputed his orders, please, sir, that we can call to mind; and if we have done it unintentional, we'd ask pardon for it, for it's what we never thought to do. Next to yourself, sir, we couldn't wish for a better master than young Mr. Halliburton. We think as much of him, sir, as we should if he was your own son."

"All right, my men," cheerfully responded Thomas Ashley.

But was not Cyril put in the background by this? As badly as d.i.c.k had been; and Cyril had no door-post to climb, and so obtain vantage ground.

He had stood with his back to the crowd and his face to the counter.

When the men were out of hearing, he turned and walked up to the master.