ing from me. Are they burnt down or damaged in any way?'
asked Sarah anxiously.

'Not so far as I know, miss; but you can't go into them for all that. No
one can,' repeated Naomi.

'Naomi, have you seen the mills to-day? Are the chimneys all standing
just as usual?' demanded Sarah.

'Why, yes, to be sure they are, and smoking; and big fires they are
making, too, for I saw red sparks coming out of one. Why, what's the
matter, Miss Sarah? You must be getting downright nervous,' observed
Naomi, for Sarah had started and given a little shiver at this last
remark.

'It's nothing, only I had a horrid dream about one of the chimneys; but
if you say you saw them standing, with nothing unusual about them, it's
all right.' And Sarah gave a half-nervous laugh as she thought of the
'unusual' appearance they had in her dream. 'All the same, I'm going to
get up; it's no use lying in bed when you can't sleep,' she continued.

While she was dressing, Sarah's thoughts recurred to the conversation she
had just had with Naomi, and she suddenly remembered that the girl had
never explained her mysterious statement that no one could go into
Clay's Mills. So she rang her bell, and telling Naomi to do her hair, sat
down on a chair while this process went on, and came to the point at
once. 'I suppose father has barricaded himself and the men into the
mills; but I could have got through all right,' she observed.

'The master has barricaded himself in; but the pickets set by the hands
to guard the mills have barricaded every one else out, and they wouldn't
let you pass if it was ever so, not for life or death, for it's been
tried,' replied Naomi.

'How do you mean for life or death?' asked Sarah, bewildered at this
extraordinary statement.

'What I say. One of those foreigners was taken ill and wanted a doctor,
and no doctor would they let through, not even Mr Howroyd; and if any one
could get round Ousebank folk it would be Mr William, for he's fair
worshipped by them all for his goodness.'

'What's going to be the end of it all?' cried Sarah.

'I couldn't say, Miss Sarah. I don't know what's going on, nor I don't
want to. It's safest not, and so mother thinks, for she won't have a word
about it in our house; and Jane Mary has to hold her tongue there, though
they do say she talks like a man at the young fellows' meetings, and is
as bad or worse than they, egging them on. Not that I know anything about
it,' Naomi hastened to add.