wledge is a
dangerous thing."

"Make way, my good people," said Mr. Halifax; and he crossed the
mill-yard, his wife on his arm, followed by an involuntary murmur of
respect.

"He be a fine fellow, the master; he sticks at nothing," was the
comment heard made upon him by one of his people, and probably it
expressed the feeling of the rest. There are few things which give a
man more power over his fellows than the thoroughly English quality of
daring.

Perhaps this was the secret why John had as yet passed safely through
the crisis which had been the destruction of so many mill-owners,
namely, the introduction of a power which the mill-people were
convinced would ruin hand-labour. Or else the folk in our valley, out
of their very primitiveness, had more faith in the master; for
certainly, as John passed through the small crowd, there was only one
present who raised the old fatal cry of "Down with machinery!"

"Who said that?"

At the master's voice--at the flash of the master's eye--the little
knot of work-people drew back, and the malcontent, whoever he was,
shrunk into silence.

Mr. Halifax walked past them, entered his mill, and unlocked the door
of the room which he had turned into an engine-room, and where, along
with the two men he had brought from Manchester, he had been busy
almost night and day for this week past in setting up his machinery.
They worked--as the Manchester fellows said they had often been obliged
to work--under lock and key.

"Your folk be queer 'uns, Mr. Halifax. They say there's six devils
inside on her, theer."

And the man pointed to the great boiler which had been built up in an
out-house adjoining.

"Six devils, say they?--Well, I'll be Maister Michael Scot--eh,
Phineas?--and make my devils work hard."

He laughed, but he was much excited. He went over, piece by piece, the
complicated but delicate machinery; rubbed here and there at the
brass-work, which shone as bright as a mirror; then stepped back, and
eyed it with pride, almost with affection.

"Isn't it a pretty thing?--If only I have set it up right--if it will
but work."

His hands shook--his cheeks were burning--little Edwin came peering
about at his knee; but he pushed the child hastily away; then he found
some slight fault with the machinery, and while the workmen rectified
it stood watching them, breathless with anxiety. His wife came to his
side.

"Don't speak to me,--don't, Ursula. If it fails I am ruin