During dinner neither of the friends wasted much time in talk; but after dinner, Bayne produced a bottle of port, notwithstanding Henry's remonstrances at being treated like a stranger, and it soon became apparent that the host himself was not in the habit of drinking that generous mixture every day. At the second glass he so far forgot himself as to utter the phrase "Eternal friendship," and, soon after, he began to writhe in his chair, and, at last, could no longer refrain himself, but told Henry that Miss Carden had been canvassing customers. She had just sent in six orders for sets of carving-tools, all for friends of her own.
Henry colored to the temples at this unexpected proof that she he loved thought of him too.
"Oh, Bayne," cried the poor young man, almost choking, "I little thought--God bless her!"
"Let us drink her health," said Bayne, excitedly.
"Ah, that I will!" and this was the first glass Henry drank honestly.
"Now, Little, I'm not doing quite right, you know; but I MUST tell you. When we lost you--you know that set of tools the Union dropped in our yard--well, he sent them to London for yours."
"That is just like him," said Henry, bitterly.
"And I'll tell you a good joke; they were in the place when you called, only not unpacked till just before I came away. Returned, sir! with a severe reprimand. 'Wonder you should send us such things as these for carving-tools by Little. If the error is not repaired shall consider ourselves at liberty to communicate direct with that workman.' A regular sugar-plum."
"Oh, thank you, my kind friend, for telling me. The world isn't all bitterness, after all: a poor fellow gets a sweet drop of friendship now and then."
"Yes, and a good drop of port now and then, though I say it that shouldn't. Fill up. Well, my boy, Cheetham is in a fine way. I left him walking about the office like a hyena. So now is your time. You can't fight the Trades; but, if Cheetham will go in with you, and I know he will, for he is sorer than you are, you can trick the Trades yet."
"Ah! tell me how, that is all."
"Oh, I can't tell you exactly. I'll try, though. I say, what a glorious thing the Ruby is: it inspires us, and fires us, et cetera, and gives us ideas beyond our sphere. Did you ever see one of these new portable forges?"
"No; never heard of them."
"No wonder; they are just out. Well, buy one of them--they were invented here--and carry it to some dismal cavern, where the foot of man never treads: make Cheetham grind your blades in another county: and who will ever know? Go to him, and don't say a word, but just ask him for your month's salary. Then he will open the door of business himself--safe. I'll drink his health. He's not a bad sort, Cheetham: only he'd sell his soul for money. I hate such rubbish. Here's 'Perdition to the lot; and no heel-taps.'"
These words of fire set Henry pondering deeply; and, as he pondered, Bayne stuck to the port, and so effectually, that, at last, after an interval of silence, he came out in a new character. He disturbed his companion's reverie by informing him, in a loud, aggressive tone, that it had long been his secret wish to encounter the Hillsborough Trades, in the persons of their secretaries, under the following conditions: a twenty-four feet ring, an experienced referee, and a kingdom looking on. As to the order of the pugilistic events, he was not unreasonably fastidious; must stipulate to begin with old Smitem; but, after that, they might encounter their fate in any order they chose, one down t'other come on. He let him know that this ardent desire for single combats, in an interminable series, arose from their treatment of his friend--
"the best friend--the best heart--oh!--the best company--oh! oh!--the best--oh! oh! oh!" Whereupon he wept, the bellicose Bayne.
And, after weeping the usual quantity, he twaddled, and, after twaddling, he became as pacific as ever, for he went to sleep in his chair.
And, while he snoozed, the words he had uttered set his friend's brain boiling and bubbling.
When the time came at which Bayne ought to return to the works, Henry called the landlady, and said, "Mr. Bayne is not very well. I am going to make his excuses. I wouldn't disturb him till five, if I was you, and then I'd give him a strong cup of tea."
Henry then went direct to the office, and found Mr. Cheetham there.
"Well?" said Mr. Cheetham, rather surlily.
"I am come to ask for my month, sir."
"So I guessed. Do you really mean to exact that?"
"Why not, sir?"
"Haven't you heard how they ground me down?"
"Yes, sir. But why did you give in? I was true to you, but you failed me. I'd have shut up the works for three months, rather than be made a slave of, and go from my word."
"Ay, ay; that's bachelor's talk. I've got a wife and children, and they make a man a mouse."
"Well, sir, I forgive you: but as to my month's wages--now all I say is--PUT YOURSELF IN MY PLACE!"
"Well?"
"You are me. You are brought from London, under an agreement, a month's notice on either side. You work, and give satisfaction.
You are threatened, but you don't run from your employer. You are blown up, and nearly killed. You lose a fortnight, but you don't charge for it; 'twasn't your employer's fault. You come back to him, and face the music again. You work with the sword hanging over you. But your employer gives in, and sacks you in a minute.
Oughtn't you to have your month? Come now, man to man, oughtn't you?"
"I ought, and that's the truth. I didn't look at it that way. I saw my own side. There--no more about it--I'll draw the check--with a good heart."
He drew his check-book to him, with a face as if vultures were tearing his vitals.
When Henry found him Amboynable, and saw his piteous look, he felt a little softened toward him, and he said, very impressively, "Wait one moment, sir, I've got an idea. I'm not the sort that likes to be beat. Are YOU?" The men looked steadily at each other.
Cheetham lowered his voice. "I've had hell inside me ever since. I thought I was a man, but they made a mouse of me. If you know any way to beat them, I'll go in with you."