p the road without comment.
Evidently the tables were turned on them. As for the others, they
spoke to Paul kindly. There was no ill-will remaining because of the
strike, the relations between master and men in these manufacturing
districts being sometimes almost confidential. In many cases they
belong to the same social order, even although the one is rich and the
other comparatively poor. Many of the manufacturers, who were now
employers of labour, were themselves operatives twenty or thirty years
before, and had worked side by side with those whom they now employed.
As a consequence, it was the order of the day for a weaver to call his
employer by his Christian name; indeed, many would think it beneath
their dignity to call an employer "Mister." On one occasion the son of
a large employer of labour in Brunford was sitting in his father's
office when one of the operatives entered. He wanted to find his
employer's groom, so he said to his young master, "Arthur, canst thou
tell me where Mester Smith is?"

Paul quickly found that he lost no prestige whatever on account of his
incarceration in Strangeways Gaol. On every hand he was met with
kindness, and to his delight he found the place where he had been
working still kept open for him. The day passed away amidst
expressions of goodwill on every hand, and Paul, wellnigh worn out with
the excitement of the last few hours, was about to return to his
lodgings, when an event happened which altered the course of his life.

He was walking down the main street of the town, when, remembering that
he needed to do some shopping, he dropped in at a hosier's place of
business, the owner of which met him with great heartiness.

"Ay, Paul, lad," he said, "I'm delighted to see you. Mr. Whitman and I
were just talking about you." And he turned, as he spoke, to an old,
pale-faced, kindly man who stood by his side. Old William Whitman was
the town missionary for Brunford, and was beloved by everybody.

"Ay," assented the old man, "and we've been praying for thee too, lad.
I'm afraid your cross has been hard to bear, but, never mind, the sun
will shine again now."

"It will, too," assented the hosier. "We think none the worse of thee,
lad, for what thou hast undergone, and 'appen thou wilt find that this
strange working of Providence 'll be oal for thy good."

"I don't see much of Providence in it," said Paul, "except that it
makes me realise how kind the people here are.