'I cannot say. It's a new regulation at ourn; and I reckon
they'll find that they cannot stick to it. But it's in force now.
By-and-by they'll find out, tyrants makes liars.' There was a little pause. Margaret was hesitating whether she
should say what was in her mind; she was unwilling to irritate
one who was already gloomy and despondent enough. At last out it
came. But in her soft tones, and with her reluctant manner,
showing that she was unwilling to say anything unpleasant, it did
not seem to annoy Higgins, only to perplex him.
'Do you remember poor Boucher saying that the Union was a tyrant?
I think he said it was the worst tyrant of all. And I remember at
the time I agreed with him.' It was a long while before he spoke. He was resting his head on
his two hands, and looking down into the fire, so she could not
read the expression on his face.
'I'll not deny but what th' Union finds it necessary to force a
man into his own good. I'll speak truth. A man leads a dree life
who's not i' th' Union. But once i' the' Union, his interests are
taken care on better nor he could do it for himsel', or by
himsel', for that matter. It's the only way working men can get
their rights, by all joining together. More the members, more
chance for each one separate man having justice done him.
Government takes care o' fools and madmen; and if any man is
inclined to do himsel' or his neighbour a hurt, it puts a bit of
a check on him, whether he likes it or no. That's all we do i'
th' Union. We can't clap folk into prison; but we can make a
man's life so heavy to be borne, that he's obliged to come in,
and be wise and helpful in spite of himself. Boucher were a fool
all along, and ne'er a worse fool than at th' last.' 'He did you harm?' asked Margaret.
'Ay, that did he. We had public opinion on our side, till he and
his sort began rioting and breaking laws. It were all o'er wi'
the strike then.' 'Then would it not have been far better to have left him alone,
and not forced him to join the Union? He did you no good; and you
drove him mad.' 'Margaret,' said her father, in a low and warning tone, for he
saw the cloud gathering on Higgins's face.
'I like her,' said Higgins, suddenly. 'Hoo speaks plain out
what's in her mind. Hoo doesn't comprehend th' Union for all
that. It's a great power: it's our only power. I ha' read a bit
o' poetry about a plough going o'er a daisy, as made tears come
into my eyes, afore I'd other cause for crying. But the chap
ne'er stopped driving the plough, I'se warrant, for all he were
pitiful about the daisy. He'd too much mother-wit for that. Th'
Union's the plough, making ready the land for harvest-time. Such
as Boucher--'twould be settin' him up too much to liken him to a
daisy; he's liker a weed lounging over the ground--mun just make
up their mind to be put out o' the way. I'm sore vexed wi' him
just now. So, mappen, I dunnot speak him fair. I could go o'er
him wi' a plough mysel', wi' a' the pleasure in life.' 'Why? What has he been doing? Anything fresh?' 'Ay, to be sure. He's ne'er out o' mischief, that man. First of
a' he must go raging like a mad fool, and kick up yon riot. Then
he'd to go into hiding, where he'd a been yet, if Thornton had
followed him out as I'd hoped he would ha' done. But Thornton,
having got his own purpose, didn't care to go on wi' the
prosecution for the riot. So Boucher slunk back again to his
house. He ne'er showed himsel' abroad for a day or two. He had
that grace. And then, where think ye that he went? Why, to
Hamper's. Damn him! He went wi' his mealy-mouthed face, that
turns me sick to look at, a-asking for work, though he knowed
well enough the new rule, o' pledging themselves to give nought
to th' Unions; nought to help the starving turn-out! Why he'd a
clemmed to death, if th' Union had na helped him in his pinch.
There he went, ossing to promise aught, and pledge himsel' to
aught--to tell a' he know'd on our proceedings, the
good-for-nothing Judas! But I'll say this for Hamper, and thank
him for it at my dying day, he drove Boucher away, and would na
listen to him--ne'er a word--though folk standing by, says the
traitor cried like a babby!' 'Oh! how shocking! how pitiful!' exclaimed Margaret. 'Higgins, I
don't know you to-day. Don't you see how you've made Boucher what
he is, by driving him into the Union against his will--without
his heart going with it. You have made him what he is!' Made him what he is! What was he?