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Will of the Mill, a fiction by George Manville Fenn |
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Chapter 14. Good Servant--Bad Master |
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_ CHAPTER FOURTEEN. GOOD SERVANT--BAD MASTER There was no stopping to put away artificial fly material. Hat and caps were snatched up, and the next minute all three were running as fast as the rugged stones and the dangerous nature of the path would allow, downward towards the mill, their faces suffused by the warm glow which rose from out of the valley beyond the trees. For a few moments the pat, pat of the runners' feet, and the rattle and rush of the stones they dislodged were the only sounds to be heard. Then came a loud shout from below, a confused murmur of voices, the wild shriek of a woman, followed by the hoarse voice of a man, shouting "Fire! Fire!" the last time to be drowned by the loud clang of the mill's big bell, whose tongue seemed to be giving its utterances in a wild, hysterical way, as rope and wheel were set in motion by a pair of lusty arms. There were a couple more zigzags to descend, which never had seemed so long to Will before, and meanwhile the buzz of voices, mingled with shouted orders, grew louder and more confused. "Shall we never get there?" panted Will. "Take it coolly, my boy," cried the artist. "Steady! Cool! Steady!" snapped out Will. "Who can be cool at a time like this?" "You," said Manners, "and you must. We don't want to get there pumped out and useless in an emergency. We want to help." "Ha!" panted Josh, as if satisfied with their friend's utterance, and feeling that it exactly expressed his feelings. "Oh, the poor old mill!" cried Will, as the next minute they came full in sight of the long wooden range of buildings, up one end of which, as if striving to reach the bell turret, great tongues of fire were gliding steadily in a ruddy series, licking at board and beam as they pursued their way. Just then a thought struck Will, and he breathlessly shouted-- "The engine! The engine! Who says my father was foolish now?" "I say he was a Solomon," cried Manners. "Hurrah, boys! Let's have the engine out! Plenty of water! Take it coolly; we'll soon have her going now." He had hardly finished speaking when John Willows' voice rose loudly above the babble of the little crowd, giving orders; and, as the boys rushed up with their friend, an iron bar was heard to rattle, two doors were flung back, and the grinding and crushing sound of wheels over gravel followed, as the little engine was run out with a hearty cheer; the excited men who took the place of horses and pushed wherever they could find a place for their hands, running the machine along the mill front right up towards where the fire was blazing fast, and bringing to it a current of air as it rose, which made the flames burn moment by moment more fiercely, as they obtained a greater hold. "No, no, no!" yelled Will. "You're wrong, you're wrong, you're wrong! Back with her at once!" "Nay, it's all right, boys," cried one of the men; "it's all right; go on!" "It isn't," shouted Will. "Back with her close to the dam!" "Nay," cried the same voice; "the fire's here." "I know that!" shouted Will, rushing at him and thrusting him aside. "Ah, here's father! Give orders, father; it must be close to the water. The suction-pipe is short." "Yes, of course," cried Willows. "You're wrong, men. Back with her to the pool there below the wheel! Mr Manners, take the lead, please, over getting out and connecting the hose. Will, see to the suction-pipe, and that its rose is well clear of the gravel. Get to work as soon as you can. Josh, my boy, follow and help me. I'm afraid the place is doomed, Mr Manners; I must go to the office and get out the safe and books." "Right, sir; we will do our best," cried the artist. "How did it occur?" "Goodness only knows," was the reply, and each hurried to his appointed task. They worked well, but, as a matter of course, there was little discipline; every worker thought he knew best, gave his opinions, and hindered the progress of the rest; but at last the engine was in the most favourable place for operating, the suction-pipe attached and hanging down in a deep, dark hole, scooped lower year after year by tons of the water falling from the wheel; while forward, under the artist's guidance, length after length of the hose had been unrolled and the gun-metal screws fitted together till it stretched out far in the glowing light towards the burning timbers. Here, as near as it was safe for man to go, the artist stood in shirt and trousers, sleeves rolled up over his massive arms, bending down, a picturesque object, like some gladiator fitting his weapon before doing battle with the fiery monster wreathing upwards above his head, as he screwed on the glistening copper branch. "Ready!" he roared, as Will's father and Josh came out of the open office door laden with heavy ledgers. "All right!" shouted Will. "Now, boys, all together--pump!" Cling, clang! Cling, clang! Cling clang! Three times over, the handles rose and fell with a strange, weird sound, and then, as if moved by one impulse, the workers stopped, and, sounding strangely incongruous, a man whose voice was blurred by the north-west country burr shouted-- "Why, t'owd poomp wean't soock!" "Nay," cried another; "I never had no faith in t'owd mawkin of a thing. She's only fit to boon the roads." "What's the matter?" shouted Manners. "I don't know," cried Will, despondently; "it won't go." "Are the pipes screwed on right?" said Manners. "Yes." "Is your end down in the water?" "Yes; three or four feet." "We must have got something screwed on upside down." "No," said Will, firmly; "it's all right, just as old Boil O put it together when it was done." "But it isn't all right," cried Manners; "the suckers or something must have been left out." "Oh, why didn't we try it? Why didn't we try it when it was done?" groaned Will. "I did want to, but Boil O said there was no time for me to be playing my games." At that moment Mr Willows ran up. "Well," he cried, "why don't you pump?" "We did, father, but it won't go." "Then don't waste time. Here, Manners!" "Catch hold," shouted the artist, thrusting the copper branch into the nearest man hands and running up. "Yes!" he said. "Ladders and buckets," continued Mr Willows. "Right, and form a double line. I say," he whispered; "here's treachery." "I fear so; I fear so," said Willows, in the same tone. "It's revenge, and the engine has been purposely left out of gear. No," he cried, as if in agony, his words having given him intense pain; "I won't believe a man could be so base." There was the scuffling rush of feet just then, and the object of his thoughts, wild and weird-looking from his dwarfish aspect, glistening head, and staring eyes, dashed up. "Here, fools! Idiots! Are you going to let the poor old mill burn down?" "Hurrah!" shouted Will; "here's Boil O! Here, old fellow, what is there wrong? I can't get the thing to go." "Stand aside!" cried the man, fiercely; and the next moment he was down on his knees, rapidly examining the connections, valve, piston, and rod. "Yah!" he roared, savagely. "The pins are left out here." Clang went a box, as he threw up a lid in the front, snatched out a screw hammer and a copper pin, and then, tap, tap, tap, some half-dozen sharply given blows were heard, the hammer was thrown with a crash back into the box, and the man's hoarse, harsh voice rose in an angry roar. "Now, then, put your backs into it! Pump!" _Clink, clank_! _Clink, clank_! _Clink, clonk_! _Clink, clunk_! There was a whistling sound as the water forced the wind out of the leather tubes, rushed along spurting in fine threads out of a score of tiny holes, and from the joints where they were not tightly screwed up, and then, just as, seeing what was about to happen, Manners rushed forward and grasped the copper branch, a fountain as of golden rain darted out of the glistening branch, rose higher and higher, making the flames hiss and steam, and a roar of triumph rose above the thudding, steady clank of the engine, now doing well its work, while the north-country man who had spoken jeeringly before shouted lustily-- "Three cheers, boys, for good old Boil O!" _ |
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