"No, not if you wish for it."

Eugenie struggled a moment with herself; at last she said,

"You have refused your people's demands?"

"All that it was possible for me to grant, and all that the people themselves required, I have granted; but Hartmann's terms are so extreme, they will not bear discussion. They would, of necessity, lead to the complete destruction of all discipline, to a state of positive anarchy, and they are in themselves a downright insult. He would hardly have ventured to propose them, if he had not known all that is at stake for me in this struggle."

"And what is there at stake?" asked Eugenie, listening with breathless attention. "Your fortune?"

"More even, my existence as a mine-owner."

"And you will not give way?"

"No."

She looked up at her husband, at the man who, barely three months before, could not endure a "scene" with her, because it affected his "nerves," and who now quietly faced a struggle on which his whole future depended. Was he really the same being? That "No" of his had an iron clang about it; she felt that the most violent threats would extract from him no other answer.

"I fear Hartmann will go all lengths," she returned. "He hates you."

Arthur smiled contemptuously.

"I know it, and the feeling is certainly mutual."

Eugenie thought of the eyes which had flashed so wildly when she p.r.o.nounced her husband's name up there on the heights, and a sudden terror took possession of her.

"You must not under-estimate that man's hatred. He is terrible in his pa.s.sions as in his energy."

Arthur looked her steadily in the face, frowning as he did so.

"Are you so well acquainted with him? You certainly always have had an admiration for this hero in a blouse. A cheap sort of energy, his, defiantly setting itself to work to bring about the impossible, and preferring to drag hundreds down into misfortune rather than listen to a word of reason. But even Hartmann may find a rampart against which his obstinate will may spend its strength in vain. From me, at least, he will obtain nothing, though I should have to fight on until I am completely ruined."

He reined in his horse all at once, and Eugenie instantly did the same.

The path through the woods was here intersected by a bend in the high road, and there, drawn up just before them, they saw the very men they had wished to avoid. A troop of miners had come to a halt at that spot and appeared to be waiting for some one.

Arthur knitted his brows.

"It seems we are not to be spared a meeting."

"Shall we turn back?" asked Eugenie in a low voice.

"It is too late, they have seen us already. We cannot avoid them now; to turn back would savour of flight. It is a pity we are on horseback, that will irritate them still more, but we must show no weakness; we must go on."

"And yet you feared this encounter?"

Arthur looked at her astonished.

"I? It was only you who were not to meet them. It cannot be helped now; but, at all events, you are no longer alone. Keep Afra well in hand, and stay close by me. Perhaps there will be no conflict, after all."

These words were exchanged quickly and almost in a whisper as they paused for one minute. Then they rode slowly forward and out into the high road, where their approach had evidently been remarked.

Arthur was right. The circ.u.mstances of the meeting could hardly be worse. The men were in a turbulent mood, embittered and excited by the scenes which had taken place up at the forges. They were already beginning to suffer from the consequences of their resistance, and now they came face to face with the master who had refused to yield to their demands. They saw him well mounted, riding by the side of his high-born wife, and returning, as they supposed, from some excursion of pleasure.

It was a dangerous sight for men already battling with want. A significant growl of discontent was heard, some muttered threats and insulting words were spoken; but, as the two emerged from the forest on to the main road, there was silence, the troop, as if by a preconcerted movement, forming itself into a compact ma.s.s ready to bar the pa.s.sage.

Arthur's lips showed that slight nervous quiver which, with him, was the only outward mark of emotion, but his hand was perfectly steady as he grasped Afra's bridle, so as, come what might, to keep her close at his side.

"Good day."

The greeting was unanswered. Not a man of the whole troop responded to it; on all sides hostile glances were showered upon the new-comers, and the men standing nearest to them pressed round more closely.

"Will you not let us through?" asked Arthur gravely. "The horses will grow restive if you press round them so. Give way."

In spite of the danger of their situation, a danger she thoroughly understood, Eugenie looked up at her husband in wonder. It was the first time she had ever heard this tone from his lips, very quiet, no doubt, but nevertheless conveying all the authority of a master over his subordinates.

This behaviour on Arthur's part was certainly full of danger at such a moment, but it would have been attended with complete success, if the troop had remained without a leader; the men would have obeyed him. But now all eyes were turned in one direction, as though awaiting from thence alone the signal for compliance or resistance.

Some little distance off stood Ulric Hartmann, who had just come down from the heights, and whom they had probably expected to meet here. He stood motionless, his arms folded, and his eyes fixed on Berkow and his wife with an expression which boded them little good.

Arthur's looks had followed those of the men about him. He faced round now.

"Hartmann, are you in charge to-day? It is for you to see, then, that a way is made for us. We are waiting."

If, in these words, there had been the slightest trace of command or of entreaty, no matter which, it would have been as a spark falling into a powder-magazine, and Ulric seemed really to be only waiting for some such spark; but by thus recognising his authority and coolly calling on him to keep order, as if it were a well-understood part of his duty, Arthur took him by surprise, without, however, disarming him. He drew near slowly.

"Oh, so you want to ride on, Herr Berkow?"

"Certainly, you see we wish to pa.s.s through to the other side."

A look of withering contempt crossed Ulric's features.

"And you call on me to help you? You are master of your works and of your men. Why do you not order them to make way? Or"--here his voice took a hollow, threatening sound, "or, perhaps, you think that here _I_ am master, and that I need only say one word to prove it to you--to prove it to you both!"

Eugenie had grown very pale, and pressed her horse still closer to Arthur's. She knew that the menace in those glittering eyes was not for her, but it was not for herself she trembled. She had no courage now to try and use that power before which Ulric had so lately bent; besides, she felt the spell would not work while he beheld her at her husband's side.

"In case of a.s.sault, a hundred can always have the mastery over one,"

said Arthur coldly, "but I suppose you hardly mean that, Hartmann. You would feel no uneasiness yourself, would you, if you came, alone and unexpectedly, into the midst of my officials? I consider myself as safe here as in my own house."

Ulric made no answer. He looked up with a scowl at the man before him, who was facing him with such perfect composure and steadily scanning his face with those clear brown eyes, just as on the day when the strife had first broken out.

On that occasion, however, he had stood in his own committee-room, surrounded and protected by his agents; now he was alone in the midst of an excited crowd, only awaiting the signal to proceed to insults, possibly to deeds of violence, and yet not a muscle of his face quivered; his bearing was as proud and a.s.sured, his look as fearless, as though he felt and knew himself to be master even here.

This quiet confidence of his did not fail to have its effect upon the crowd, trained in the habit of obedience. The only question for the men now was to know whom they should follow. They turned another inquiring glance on Ulric, who stood by in silence. He looked up once more, then aside at Eugenie's white face. Suddenly he stepped back.

"Make way, let the horses through! To the left, face about!"

The order was executed with a celerity which showed it was not unwelcome. In less than a minute a broad path was opened, and Berkow and his wife rode through unhindered. They turned from the high-road into the forest again, and soon disappeared among the trees.

"I say, Ulric," Lawrence went up to his friend with a sort of good-natured remonstrance, "you flew at me just now because I preached peace up at the forges. What have you been doing here, yourself?"