But it's too late now. It has meant years of oppression, and the
end has come. But don't think I mean to suffer like these cowardly
worms. I too have been your worm for years, and the worm has turned at
last--a worm that means to sting the foot that has trampled upon it so
long. Here, what do you want, boy?" For Will had stepped forward, and
thrust his hand through the man's arm.

"You, James, old chap. You come away. Mr Carlile was right; you don't
know what you are saying, or you wouldn't talk to father like that."

"Let go!" cried the man, fiercely trying to shake the boy off; but Will
clung tightly.

"No--come and take his other arm, Josh--here, come on up to the cottage,
Jem. What's the good of going on--"

Will did not finish his sentence, for a heavy thrust, almost a blow,
sent him staggering back towards Josh, who had hurried up, and was just
in time to save his companion from a heavy fall.

This was too much for Will's father, whose calm firmness gave way.

"Yes," he said, angrily, "it does now come to that! You talk of putting
an end to the oppression under which you seem to writhe. It shall be
so. I, as your employer, tell you most regretfully, James Drinkwater,
that from this day your connection with the mill must cease--I will not
say entirely, for it would cause me bitter regret to lose so old and
valued a servant; but matters cannot longer go on like this. In justice
to others, as well as myself, this must come to an end. You have always
been a difficult man with whom to deal, but, during the past six months,
a great change has come over you, and I am willing to think that much of
it is due to some failing in your health. There: I will say no more.
This shall not be final, James. I speak for your wife's sake as well as
your own. Go back to the cottage, and, if you will take advice, you
will go right away for a month, or two, or three. You are not a poor
man, as you have proved to me by your acts, by coming to your bitter
tyrant to invest your little savings again and again. Now, sir, speak
out as you did just now, so that all your fellow-workers may hear. Are
not these words true?"

James Drinkwater stood alone out there in the bright sunshine, which
glistened on his polished bare crown as he glared at his employer,
whilst his hands kept on opening and shutting in company with his lips.

"Yes," he uttered, at last, in a low, fierce growl, "that's true enough.
Why shouldn't I?