Then Mrs. Webster laid down on the dresser a parcel containing home-made bread and fresh b.u.t.ter. Next Mrs. Bosher's brother brought from the donkey-cart some bacon, eggs, and milk. The pony-carriage had concealed under the seat some soap, candles, and cheese. Mrs. Rowles had a bundle of blankets as a loan, for the present moment; and Mrs.

Bosher came in with sheets and towels for Mrs. Mitch.e.l.l to use until her own arrived. All these kindnesses overpowered the London people, and they knew not how to thank their new friends.

To avoid being thanked Mrs. Bosher nodded her bonnet at Juliet and went away. Mrs. Webster also departed. Mr. Burnet asked Mitch.e.l.l to meet him at the works next morning, and then he and Leonard drove off.

Mrs. Bosher's brother hauled in a half-sack of coals and two great f.a.ggots from the donkey-cart, and then he, too, said good-bye.

The Rowles party stayed longer.

"Ned will come to see you, I hope," said Mrs. Rowles to her brother-in-law. "But he says he is afraid he can't come in the middle of the night; but would half-past ten be late enough?"

"Dear, dear!" said Mrs. Mitch.e.l.l, somewhat puzzled. "Well, we must sit up for him if necessary; but I did hope that Thomas would have his proper nights' rests here in the country. We ought all to be in bed by ten o'clock."

"You see, Rowles cannot leave the lock unless he gets a deputy. Philip is hardly strong enough by himself. And Ned says that of course Tom can't come to the lock, being at work all night and asleep all day."

"That will not be the case here," said Mitch.e.l.l smiling. "Besides, there's one or two things that I may as well explain to Rowles. Seems to me he's got some ideas upside down in his head."

"Oh, I don't know!" cried Mrs. Rowles; "but my idea is that you had better have your suppers now and go to bed as quick as you can.

There'll be lots of new things to see to-morrow. And if Ned can't come you'll be sure to have Mr. Robert the butler at Bourne House, and the housekeeper. You see, they all know Juliet--" Here Mrs. Rowles broke off, and Juliet shrank away, feeling bitterly that they knew little that was good of her.

She was, however, able to eat her supper with the rest of her family, and to sleep on the shake-down of blankets, and to rise in the morning refreshed and happy and ready for the new life before her.

The carrier arrived about eleven o'clock that morning, and the few bits of furniture and so forth which had come from London were put, one by one, in new places. Mrs. Mitch.e.l.l said that a pound of paint would touch them up quite smart-like.

Thomas Mitch.e.l.l and Albert had not stayed at Honeysuckle Cottage to see the arrival of these goods, but had gone to the works to meet Mr.

Burnet there at nine o'clock. They were told by the foreman to go into the office, and there they awaited the arrival of the master.

Mr. Burnet soon appeared, and after a few words of greeting took a key from his pocket and opened the letter-box. From it he took a large number of business letters. He laid them into several separate heaps.

Then he pressed the b.u.t.ton of an electric-bell, and a lad came in from some other part of the buildings.

"Here, Willie, take these letters, if you please. One for Mr. Toop, one for Mr. Richard Macnunn, two for Mr. Plasket, and here is a very fat one for 'Arthur George Rayner, Esq., Foreman at the Works of the _Thames Valley Times and Post_, Littlebourne, Berkshire, England.' It really looks like something important."

When the boy had gone off to deliver the letters, Mr. Burnet took Mitch.e.l.l outside the office and pointed out to him the different parts of the building and the advantages of the position. One of these was that the Little Bourne, a small but rapid stream, flowed close by, supplying water. There were gas-works on the premises, and there was a small tramway for sending paper, &c., from one end to the other. There was handsome stabling, and there were lofty, airy work-rooms.

"Every appliance for making a good thing of it," said Mr. Burnet.

He held up his hand for silence as a strange, low sound rolled out from the works. Was it the roar of fire or an explosion of steam? But no sign of fire followed, and nothing shook or broke. Only there came a second roar, louder than the first, and then the great gates of the great yard burst open, and out poured a crowd of men, jumping, dancing, shouting, and apparently in great joy.

"A strike," said Mitch.e.l.l, "or what?"

"I don't know," answered Mr. Burnet calmly but gravely; "I have no notion what can be the matter."

The men came nearer, some twenty in all, and in the midst of them was one man seated in a chair and carried by four others.

"What can they be doing with Rayner?" exclaimed Mr. Burnet. "Why are they chairing him?"

"Hurrah for Rayner! Hurrah for New Zealand! Hurrah for everybody!

Half-time to-day and a sovereign apiece! Hurrah for Rayner and New Zealand!"

All this was most extraordinary; and yet even more extraordinary was the conduct and manner of Rayner. He laughed loudly, and then he plunged his face into his handkerchief and sobbed wildly. He shook hands with every one near, and then waved them away with a majestic air. In fact he seemed to have taken leave of his senses; the truth was, that his senses had taken leave of him for a season. And yet the sight of Mr. Burnet's perplexed face sobered him in a measure.

He swaggered up to his master, saying, "Shake hands, Burnet; I'm not too proud for that."

Mr. Burnet obeyed.

"Listen to me, I'll tell you something. Wonders will never cease. If you had a brother, Burnet, whom you had not seen for thirty-five years, would not your heart yearn towards him? Yes, even a letter from his lawyer would fill your heart with joy."

"No doubt," said Mr. Burnet.

"Here's a letter, come this minute; why, joy is nothing to it. I'm a made man, a rich man, snap my fingers at you all! Do you hear? My brother in New Zealand is dead. What do you say to that?"

"I am very sorry for you," said Mr. Burnet.

"Are you? You are that envious you don't know how to look me in the face! Thirty thousand pounds, Burnet! What do you say to that? Have you got thirty thousand pounds? I snap my fingers at you all!" And he did it.

"My poor brother died six months ago. Ah! sad, sad! Lonely old bachelor! Not a creature to weep for him but me. They have been six months finding out my address; and now I can go to New Zealand and live on my property worth thirty thousand pounds, or, the lawyer writes, the land can be sold and the cash sent over to me. I think I like cash better than land. Shake hands again, Burnet. I've told the men I'll give them a half-holiday, as there's not much doing, and a sovereign apiece, which you will advance to them. I'll give a cheque for it, you know."

Mr. Burnet did not respond.

"Now, some men," Rayner went on, wiping the heat from his streaming face, "would have their heads turned by such luck as the death of a rich bachelor brother; but I'm as cool as a cuc.u.mber, only the weather is rather warm. Shake hands, Burnet; you'll never find a bit of pride in me. Cheer again, mates, and off to your homes, and may you all have rich brothers and end with thirty thousand pounds!"

It was evident that poor Rayner's head was completely turned by his sudden prosperity. Perhaps few men could have taken such a change without some excitement; probably few men would have become so insane on account of what only changed his fortunes, not himself, or, rather, had so far only changed himself for the worse. All this bl.u.s.ter and talk made no impression on either Mr. Burnet or Mitch.e.l.l, who waited quietly until Rayner's extravagant delight should have spent itself.

The other men, too, began to see how ridiculous Rayner was making himself. They soon moved off, by twos and threes, back to their work; and presently Rayner found himself alone with his employer and the new man just come down from London.

"I suppose," said Mr. Burnet calmly, "that you will not wish to work any longer, Rayner, in my factory?"

"That for your factory!" said Rayner, snapping his fingers again; "I'll never do another day's work as long as I live. I'll pay you what you like instead of a week's notice, or you may fine me what you like.

But I'm off to London by the next train to see my lawyer, and to enjoy myself a bit. I'll send for my wife and the children when I'm ready for them."

"Hear one word," said Mr. Burnet. "I have no wish to detain you an hour if you wish to go, nor will I take any payment or fine. The only thing that troubles me is that not one of the other men is capable of filling your place, not one of them could undertake the position of foreman, even if I were willing to offer it."

"No," replied Rayner, "you can't fill my place with one of those duffers. But, I say, what about this chap from London? Can't you make him foreman?"

Mr. Burnet and Mitch.e.l.l looked at each other; then said the master, "What do you think, Mitch.e.l.l?"

"Settle it between you," cried Rayner, "it is no business of mine.

Good-bye, and good luck to you! I shall see no more of that old _Times and Post_, I'm thankful to say. New times and a new post for me! So I'm off!"

And away he went, down the private road and into the highroad, and to his cottage home, where he astounded his wife by his words and manner, and from whence he betook himself and was seen no more in Littlebourne. A fortnight later, Mrs. Rayner, a quiet, sensible woman, took herself and her children out of the place, and Rayner and his thirty thousand pounds were only remembered as something to laugh over and wonder at.

As for Thomas Mitch.e.l.l--well, it was almost too good to be true. He looked over the works, saw the presses, talked with the men, and came to the conclusion that he could undertake the duties of foreman. It was a great rise for him.

"I never thought of such a thing, sir, when I came down here."

"Nor did I, Mitch.e.l.l. I only thought of bringing you into good air, and setting you up in health. If Rayner had not made room for you, you could only have been one of the journeymen printers."

"Seems to me," said Mitch.e.l.l huskily, "that a kind Hand has led me here in a wonderful way. I see quite plainly that it is not myself that has brought me here."

"I see that too," answered Mr. Burnet. "I little thought when I found a naughty girl astray on the river that such events would occur. Your Juliet did not seem of any consequence to me, but when Rowles told me of her father's bad health I just said to myself that he would have a better chance in the country. And the idea put itself into shape, and you were brought down here, and then exactly at the right moment Rayner's good fortune--if it really turns out to be good fortune--came to him, and the post was open for you, and I believe you will prove to be the right man in the right place."