se hands inside. Besides,
there'll be some arrests for this other job, and that'll cool their
blood. No; what I 'm afraid of is those men in here,' said the old man,
pointing with his thumb over his shoulder towards the mill-buildings.

'What do you think they'll do?' George demanded.

'They'll go. They're getting tired of the confinement and the dullness.
Besides, they are frightened. Goodness knows how they've got to know
anything of what's going on outside, but they have; and if they hear of
this fire it'll be all up with us. They'll go, and a sack of gold won't
keep them.'

George looked very thoughtful. 'Where do they sleep, and what do they
eat?' he asked.

'Oh, they sleep on blankets and wool in the barns. And they've got their
own cooks, and there's plenty of food of the kind they like,' replied the
man, with true British contempt for foreign messes.

'What food have they, and how did you get enough in for them?' George
asked.

'That's the master again! There's sacks and sacks of flour and coffee and
beans, and things that we thought were bales of wool, and tins of milk;
and they eat a lot of them things, and very little meat, except bacon.
But they're crying out for vegetables. Mark my words, Mr George, they
won't be here much longer, double pay or not.'

George turned and left him, and went for a walk through the mills. The
men greeted him rather surlily, from which he opined that they could not
be French, though they spoke that language; but when he put any questions
they declined to answer, saying that their orders were not to give any
information to any one. However, they seemed to be working well, and so
George remarked to their manager.

'Yes, sir; they are doing time-work. They will get a bonus each if the
work they are doing is finished by a certain time,' replied the man.

'I see,' said George, and then he looked thoughtful again. They would
finish the contract and go. He walked back to the office, from whence he
meant to go to the lookout again to see how the fire was going, but was
in time to hear the ring of the telephone. 'Halloa!' he said.

'It's Sarah! Do you see what's happened at Balmoral?' she inquired.

'No; but I imagine it's burning or burnt to the ground,' said George in a
resigned tone.

'The fire's out; at least, there's only smoke to be seen. But everybody's
come away, and I am afraid some one is hurt, for I saw through the
glasses that they were crowding round something,