d proving, as thou
couldst easily prove, that thou wert agin their plan. Thou just kept
quiet, so that they might get off easy, even though thou wert kept
longer in quod thysen. The papers have had articles about it, too, and
the affair has been called 'A Miscarriage of Justice.'"

"The people think I'm not disgraced, then?" said Paul, and there was a
flash of eagerness in his eyes.

"Disgraced! Nay, it's all t'other way, and I can tell thee this, that
many think that Wilson and his son Ned are disgraced for setting on
Bolitho to make it hard for thee."

"Did they do this?" asked Paul.

"Ay, they did an' all. From what we can hear, Bolitho had special
instructions to let t'other chaps down easy. It was not hard to do
this, because thou art a chap with eddication and brains, and art a bit
of a leader, while t'others were nowt but ninnies. Anyhow, the truth's
out at last, and nobody i' Brunford will look upon thee as disgraced."

In spite of himself Paul could not help being pleased, and he no longer
resented the presence of the people who had gathered round the prison
gates and who had listened eagerly to what had been said. Rather there
was a feeling of triumph in his heart as cheer after cheer was raised.
He was thought of as one who fought the battles of the working people,
and he had suffered as a consequence No one looked on him as one
disgraced, but rather as one who had suffered for their cause.

Nevertheless the marks of the prison were still upon his heart. No man
could spend six months in Strangeways Gaol as he had spent them, and
suffer as he had suffered, without being influenced thereby. The iron
had entered his soul, and even kindly words and hearty cheers could not
remove from him the fact that he had been treated unjustly, and that
his character had been blackened.

When the train arrived in Brunford, another crowd, far larger than that
which met him at Manchester, had gathered at the station, and there was
quite a triumphal march down the Liverpool Road towards the town hall.
Arrived there, Paul could not help noticing a number of the councillors
leaving the steps of this great civic building, and among others he
noticed both Mr. Wilson and his son, who were responsible for his
imprisonment.

"Sitha, Ned Wilson," shouted one of the men. "This is the chap that
thou set on Bolitho to persecute, and this is the chap that thou told
lees about."

The two men laughed uneasily and passed u