第73章 CHAPTER XXII A BLOW AND ITS CONSEQUENCES (2)
Fanny raised herself up:
\"Are they gone?\" asked she, in a whisper.
\"Gone!\" replied he. \"Listen!\"
She did listen; they all could hear the one great straining breath; thecreak of wood slowly yielding; the wrench of iron; the mighty fall ofthe ponderous gates. Fanny stood up tottering--made a step or twotowards her mother, and fell forwards into her arms in a fainting fit.
Mrs. Thornton lifted her up with a strength that was as much that of thewill as of the body, and carried her away.
\"Thank God!\" said Mr. Thornton, as he watched her out. \"Had you notbetter go upstairs, Miss Hale?\"
Margaret\"s lips formed a \"No!\"--but he could not hear her speak, for thetramp of innumerable steps right under the very wall of the house, andthe fierce growl of low deep angry voices that had a ferocious murmurof satisfaction in them, more dreadful than their baffled cries not manyminutes before.
\"Never mind!\" said he, thinking to encourage her. \"I am very sorry youshould have been entrapped into all this alarm; but it cannot last longnow; a few minutes more, and the soldiers will be here.\"
\"Oh, God!\" cried Margaret, suddenly; \"there is Boucher. I know his face,though he is livid with rage,--he is fighting to get to the front--look!
look!\"
\"Who is Boucher?\" asked Mr. Thornton, coolly, and coming close to thewindow to discover the man in whom Margaret took such an interest.
As soon as they saw Mr. Thornton, they set up a yell,--to call it nothuman is nothing,--it was as the demoniac desire of some terrible wildbeast for the food that is withheld from his ravening. Even he drew hackfor a moment, dismayed at the intensity of hatred he had provoked.
\"Let them yell!\" said he. \"In five minutes more--. I only hope my poorIrishmen are not terrified out of their wits by such a fiendlike noise.
Keep up your courage for five minutes, Miss Hale.\"
\"Don\"t be afraid for me,\" she said hastily. \"But what in five minutes? Canyou do nothing to soothe these poor creatures? It is awful to see them.\"
\"The soldiers will be here directly, and that will bring them to reason.\"
\"To reason!\" said Margaret, quickly. \"What kind of reason?\"
\"The only reason that does with men that make themselves into wildbeasts. By heaven! they\"ve turned to the mill-door!\"
\"Mr. Thornton,\" said Margaret, shaking all over with her passion, \"go
down this instant, if you are not a coward. Go down and face them likea man. Save these poor strangers, whom you have decoyed here. Speakto your workmen as if they were human beings. Speak to them kindly.
Don\"t let the soldiers come in and cut down poor-creatures who aredriven mad. I see one there who is. If you have any courage or noblequality in you, go out and speak to them, man to man.\"
He turned and looked at her while she spoke. A dark cloud came overhis face while he listened. He set his teeth as he heard her words.
\"I will go. Perhaps I may ask you to accompany me downstairs, and barthe door behind me; my mother and sister will need that protection.\"
\"Oh! Mr. Thornton! I do not know--I may be wrong--only--\"
But he was gone; he was downstairs in the hall; he had unbarred thefront door; all she could do, was to follow him quickly, and fasten itbehind him, and clamber up the stairs again with a sick heart and adizzy head. Again she took her place by the farthest window. He was onthe steps below; she saw that by the direction of a thousand angry eyes;but she could neither see nor hear any-thing save the savage satisfactionof the rolling angry murmur. She threw the window wide open. Many inthe crowd were mere boys; cruel and thoughtless,--cruel because theywere thoughtless; some were men, gaunt as wolves, and mad for prey.
She knew how it was; they were like Boucher, with starving children athome--relying on ultimate success in their efforts to get higher wages,and enraged beyond measure at discovering that Irishmen were to bebrought in to rob their little ones of bread. Margaret knew it all; sheread it in Boucher\"s face, forlornly desperate and livid with rage. If Mr.
Thornton would but say something to them--let them hear his voiceonly--it seemed as if it would be better than this wild beating and ragingagainst the stony silence that vouchsafed them. no word, even of angeror reproach. But perhaps he was speaking now; there was a momentaryhush of their noise, inarticulate as that of a troop of animals. She toreher bonnet off; and bent forwards to hear. She could only see; for if Mr.
Thornton had indeed made the attempt to speak, the momentary instinctto listen to him was past and gone, and the people were raging worsethan ever. He stood with his arms folded; still as a statue; his face palewith repressed excitement. They were trying to intimidate him--to makehim flinch; each was urging the other on to some immediate act ofpersonal violence. Margaret felt intuitively, that in an instant all wouldbe uproar; the first touch would cause an explosion, in which, amongsuch hundreds of infuriated men and reckless boys, even Mr. Thornton\"slife would be unsafe,--that in another instant the stormy passions wouldhave passed their bounds, and swept away all barriers of reason, orapprehension of consequence. Even while she looked, she saw lads inthe back-ground stooping to take off their heavy wooden clogs--the
readiest missile they could find; she saw it was the spark to thegunpowder, and, with a cry, which no one heard, she rushed out of theroom, down stairs,--she had lifted the great iron bar of the door with animperious force--had thrown the door open wide--and was there, in faceof that angry sea of men, her eyes smiting them with flaming arrows ofreproach. The clogs were arrested in the hands that held them--thecountenances, so fell not a moment before, now looked irresolute, andas if asking what this meant. For she stood between them and theirenemy. She could not speak, but held out her arms towards them till shecould recover breath.