"And they went to their looms, of course?"
"To be sure they did. More than that, Luke Staley picked himself up, and went civilly to Edgar and said, 'That was a good knock-down. I'm beat this time, Master;' and he offered his hand, blue and black with dyes, and Edgar took it. My word! how his grandfather Belward would have enjoyed that scene. I am sorry he is not alive this day. He missed a deal by dying before Reform. Edgar and he together could keep a thousand men at their looms--and set the price, too."
"A bit of Reform, of course,--more wage and less work. I am not much put out of the way now, Piers, with the mill. I get a lot of pleasure out of it, one road or another. Did I ever tell you about the Excursion Edgar gave them last week?"
"Well, you see, Edgar sent all his hands and their wives and sweethearts to the seaside, and gave them a good dinner; and they had a band of music to play for them, and a little steamer to give them a sail; and they came home at midnight, singing and in high good humour. Edgar thought he had pleased them. Not a bit of it! Two nights after they held a meeting in that Mechanics Hall Mrs. Atheling built for them. What for? To talk over the jaunt, and try and find out, '_What Master Atheling was up to_.' You see they were sure he had a selfish motive of some kind."
"I don't believe he had a single selfish motive; he is not a selfish man," said Piers.
"I wouldn't swear to his motives, Piers. Between you and me, he wants to go to Parliament again."
"He ought to be there; it is his native heath, in a manner."
"Well, as I said, one way or another, I get a lot of pleasure out of these men. There is a truce on now between them and Edgar; but, in the main, it is a lively truce."
"Edgar seems to enjoy the conditions, also, Father."
"Well, he ought to have a bit of something that pleases him. He has a deal of contrary things to fight. There is his eldest son."
"He will paint pictures and make little figures, and waste his time about such things as no Atheling in this world ever bothered his head about,--unless he wanted his likeness painted. The lad does wonders with his colours and brushes, and I'll allow that. He brought me a bit of canvas with that corner by the fir woods on it, and you would have thought you could pull the grass and drink the water. But I did not think it right to praise him much. I said, 'Very good, Augustus, but what will you make by this?'"