One evening the minister of the Hanover Chapel called at the house in which he was lodging, and, seeing him deeply engrossed in his books, complimented him upon his studious habits. "I hear you are becoming quite a scholar, Mr. Stepaside," he said.

Paul shook his head.

"Why, but it's becoming well known in the town," persisted the minister. "I noticed that you took a lot of prizes on prize-giving day in the Mechanics' Inst.i.tute, and all sorts of complimentary things were said about you in the papers. I am sorry, however, that I've not seen you at chapel lately."

Paul remained silent.

"You've not forgotten the advice which the wise man gave in the last chapter of Ecclesiastes, I hope?" said the minister.

"What advice?" asked Paul.

"'Remember now thy Creator in the days of thy youth,'" replied the minister. "I hope you have not forgotten that."

"Where is He--what is He?" asked Paul. "Who can tell?"

"Why," asked the minister, "do you not believe that there is a G.o.d in the heavens--a G.o.d Who is at once our Father and our Judge?"

"I see little signs of either," he replied. "It is easier to believe in the Devil than to believe in G.o.d! All we know is that we are here, and we have to fight our battles and do our work."

"But do you mean to say," asked the minister, "that you feel no responsibility towards G.o.d?"

"Look here, sir," replied Paul, "this world in which we live is not a very big affair, and it's one of millions upon millions of other worlds. Now I put it to you: What do you think the G.o.d Who made all this--if there is a G.o.d at all--Who made all these millions of worlds swirling through s.p.a.ce, cares about little insects like you and me, who just crawl upon the face of this tiny globe. Still, as I said, we have our life to live and our work to do, and we must act according to the instincts of our being."

"But if the instincts of your being lead you to do something wrong?"

said the minister.

"What is right, and what is wrong?" asked Paul. "All I know is that I have my own plans of life. I have my programme marked out, and I mean to carry the programme through."

The minister did not quite understand what he meant. "But what about your relations with your fellow-men, my young friend?" he asked.

"What of them?" asked Paul. "I was reading the other day the life of Napoleon, who said that if a million men stood between him and the objects he desired to obtain he would sacrifice those million men."

The minister, a simple-minded man, who thought but little outside the narrow groove in which he worked, was somewhat aghast at this statement.

"And do you mean to say that is your sentiment?" he said.

For the moment the spirit of mischief entered Paul's heart. It seemed pleasant to him to shock this G.o.dly man and to make him feel that he had no sympathy with the conventional morality he preached.

"It seems to me," said Paul, "that, if there is a G.o.d, He helps those who help themselves. The battle is to the strong, and the race to the swift. If you do not win, somebody else does. Well, I don't mean to be beaten in the battle, and if there is someone who stands in my way of getting to the goal I desire to reach, that someone has got to be swept out of the way."

One event we must mention which was destined to have a marked influence on Paul's life. It need not be described at length, but it is necessary that it be referred to briefly. A certain manufacturer had a son some few years older than Paul. This manufacturer was named Wilson. He was one of the largest employers in the town, and his son Ned was looked upon as one who would one day be one of the most important men in Brunford. He was a fellow of some intelligence, and, while essentially of the manufacturing cla.s.s, he had, perhaps owing to his education, ambitions to be a.s.sociated with the older families of the county. He was strongly opposed to the democratic feeling which prevailed among the working cla.s.ses, and, on more than one occasion strongly resented the expression of certain opinions by his father's employees. When Paul was about twenty years of age a quarrel sprang up between him and young Ned Wilson. Paul, burning with enthusiasm for the cla.s.s whose fortunes he had espoused, spoke at a public gathering, and exposed the ill-treatment of one of Wilson's employees. Wilson appeared at the gathering and denied the statement which Paul made, and hurled many offensive epithets at him. It was a sordid affair altogether, and the matter would not have been mentioned but for its influence on Paul's after-life. The result of the quarrel was that Paul was discharged from the position he had held ever since he came to Brunford, and was, as a consequence, for some time out of work.

Moreover, lying stories were set afloat, which, while they did not harm him greatly, caused him to feel bitterly towards the man who had maligned him.

When Paul had been in Brunford about five years a strike took place which convulsed the whole town. Like many another of these manufacturing disturbances, the cause seemed trivial in the extreme.

Nevertheless, it spread from mill to mill, and from trade to trade, in such a way that practically the whole of the operatives had ceased working. As all the world knows by this time, the unions of the North of England are so closely connected as to form them into one h.o.m.ogeneous body. In this case, two people, a man and his wife, became at cross purposes with what was called the tackler. This tackler, or foreman, had insisted upon something which to the man and his wife was utterly unfair. Eventually they were discharged, and on their appeal to the secretary of the union to which they belonged, the whole case was taken up seriously and discussed with a great deal of warmth. The employer in question supported his foreman and refused to take the couple back. Thereupon the union threatened to call out all their members if they were not reinstated. This led to a pitched battle between the operatives and the employers. The masters naturally supported their own cla.s.s, while the operatives, feeling that their position was endangered, stood to their guns. As a consequence, therefore, the trade of the whole town was in a state of stagnation.

The employers declared that they refused to be dictated to by the people to whom they paid wages; and the operatives, feeling that their liberties and rights were in danger, would concede nothing to them. As is ordinary in such cases, a great deal of unruly behaviour was witnessed, the public-houses reaped a rich harvest, and acts of violence became general. In this case, a number of youths, utterly foolish and irresponsible, conceived a plot to "pay out," as they call it, the employers, and, in order to carry it out, held secret meetings, the purport of which, unknown to them, gradually leaked out. Into this plot Paul found himself drawn, but instead of encouraging the youths in their design, he did his best to dissuade them. This, as may be imagined, did not please them. To those who have studied the history of strikes in the northern manufacturing towns, it is well known that nothing appeals to a certain element of the population more strongly than acts of violence, and Paul found that his well-meant efforts met with great disfavour. Still, a kind of loyalty held him to them, even while he refused to partic.i.p.ate in what they proposed to do. One night a number of these lads found their way to a certain mill, with the intention of destroying some new machinery that Mr. Wilson, who has already been mentioned, had lately bought at great cost. When Paul heard of it he also hastened thither, in order to do his best to put an end to the mischief. As I have said, the designs of these lads had leaked out, and, as a consequence, the owner of the mill was prepared.

A number of policemen had ambushed themselves, together with some of the foremen. The result was that when the lads were making their way towards this machinery they were stopped, and an endeavour was made to make them prisoners. This led to a pitched battle between the youths on one side and the representatives of the employers on the other, and Paul, in spite of himself, was found on the side of the youths. In the struggle which followed two policemen and one of the foremen were badly injured, while several of the lads bore marks which they would carry to their graves.

That same night Paul found himself, with nearly all the others, in Brunford police-station, in order to await his trial. The case was regarded so seriously that bail was not allowed; and therefore Paul, with the others, had to remain in durance vile until the case could be publicly tried.

During the time he lay in prison he felt himself deeply humiliated and vastly ashamed. He called himself a fool for having been led into such a false position. While sympathising with the att.i.tude which the operatives, as a whole, had taken, he utterly disapproved of the foolish plot into which he had been drawn, and yet here he was, not only regarded as equally culpable with the rest, but as a kind of leader; he, who had always prided himself upon his respectability, and upon appealing to the intelligence of the people instead of to brute force, was guilty of mixing himself up in this vulgar squabble which had led to such an ignominious end. The disgrace of it, too, was hard to bear; keenly sensitive as he was, and with an abhorrence of anything like brawls of any sort, he felt as though he was dragged through mire.

Of course the unions took up their case and promised to defend them.

They had a large amount of money at their disposal in the union funds, and they promised that the best legal advice obtainable should be employed in their behalf. As I have said, feeling ran very high in the town, and the magistrates before whom the case was brought in the first instance, being in the main manufacturers, and therefore strongly prejudiced in favour of their cla.s.s, were not likely to regard the action of Paul and of others from a favourable standpoint. They accordingly committed the accused for trial at the Quarter Sessions in Manchester. The secretary of one of the unions visited Paul before the trial.

"It's a serious business, Stepaside," he said, "and I am afraid it will go hard with you!"

"But no one was seriously hurt," said Paul.

"I doan't know so much about that," replied the secretary. "One of th'

bobbies has been i' bed ever since. Wilson's tackler is said to be i'

queer street. His head was bashed in, and one of his arms broken. I tell thee, it was a bad thing for us all. You see it's turned public opinion agin us, and we weavers are lost when that's the case. Still, we mun fight it out."

"I don't want to back out from anything," said Paul; "but, as a matter of fact, I did my best to keep the chaps from going up to Wilson's mill."

"That may be," replied the secretary, "but the general opinion is that thou wert the leader of th' gang, and we shall have rare hard job to get thee off, whatever happens to the rest. Still, we think none the worse of thee, lad, and if thou hast got to go to quod, thou shalt have a rare big home-coming when thou comes out. We'll have bands of music and a big feed, and all that sort of thing."

"Who have you got to defend us?" said Paul.

"Eh, well, we have got Sutcliffe, our own lawyer, and he's briefed Robson, the barrister."

"Is Robson a good man?" asked Paul.

"Good! why he's got off more of our chaps than any other man. Still, it looks black, because the case is clear agin us. There is no doubt the chaps were up to mischief, they got into Wilson's mill, and there'll be some turncoats in the town who'll say as 'ow they knaw that they meant to break the machinery. Then there's the two bobbies and Wilson's tackler, all of them i' bed, and the doctor'll be there to give evidence. There's no getting out of that."

When he had gone, Paul thought over the whole case very seriously.

What part should he play? He knew he could bring witnesses to prove that he had done his best to dissuade the lads from their act of violence, but, by so doing, should he be playing the game? He wanted to be loyal to his companions, even while he was innocent of willingly acting with them. It was rather a delicate point. If he failed to speak he would be regarded as a kind of ringleader of the gang. If, on the other hand, he told the truth, and brought witnesses to attest to what he had to say, he would be looked upon as a kind of sneak.

When the day of trial came, therefore, he was not in an enviable frame of mind. He knew that hundreds of eyes would be upon him, and that he would have a very undesirable publicity. Only a few weeks before the strike he had been spoken of as a possible candidate for the town council, and he, young as he was, had rejoiced in the thought. He had pictured himself speaking at public meetings and receiving the votes of the townspeople; he saw himself, too, elected at the head of the poll, and having a seat in the council chamber among the most prominent men in the town. But now his publicity would be of an entirely different nature. He was spoken of as the leader of a gang of roughs who attempted to break up machinery, and who had half-killed three men who represented peace and order. Still, he set his teeth together and thought of his plan of action.

"I suppose Wilson will be well represented," he said to the secretary of the union, to whom he had spoken before.

"Ay, he's got Bolitho for th' senior and Jordan for th' junior."

"Bolitho!" said Paul, "I never heard of him."

"Where have you lived?" asked the secretary. "'E's the smartest chap in the Northern Circuit, and there's many as ses he's makin' several thousand a year. I have 'eard as 'ow Wilson 'ad a 'ard job to get him, 'e's that thronged with work, and when they 'ad got him, he said as 'ow it meant six months more to every one of you."

"What sort of a chap is he?" asked Paul.

"Eh, one of those smooth-spoken fellows. You think when he's cross-examining you 'e's on your side, and all the time 'e's worming out the most d.a.m.ning things against you. He's a kind of oily voice, too, and he makes people believe in him, whether they will or no. You must be careful about that, for directly he comes to address the jury he takes the meanest advantages of what he has dragged out of the witnesses."

Presently Paul found himself and the others in the same room wherein he had watched the trial of some months before. He thought of the G. D.

Graham about whom he had such strange fancies, and remembered the shock he had received when he discovered that he was altogether mistaken. He little thought then that he would be here to-day as a dangerous character, and as one who had committed a grave offence against the public weal. Presently he was able to take note of his surroundings.

The lofty chamber; the solemn-looking magistrates; the barristers at their benches; the jury in their box; the prisoners standing sullen and defiant, yet wondering how they would acquit themselves in the trial; and as many of the public as could gain admission into the room, eager, and wondering what the upshot would be.

Evidently the case was going to be a long one. The counsel for the prosecution opened it with a long and vigorous speech. He described the history of the strike, told of the excitable condition of the people, and related how difficult it had been for the police to keep order in the town. After this he went on, with more or less accuracy, to tell of the plot of the prisoners who had been brought there that day, and of the charges that were brought against them.

"Is that Mr. Bolitho?" asked Paul of the secretary of the union, who was allowed to stand near him.