Chapter 23 - Page 2

back turned to her son much longer than was necessary;
and when she spoke, her voice seemed unusual and constrained.

'You have taken some steps about the rioters, I suppose? You
don't apprehend any more violence, do you? Where were the police?
Never at hand when they're wanted!'

'On the contrary, I saw three or four of them, when the gates
gave way, struggling and beating about in fine fashion; and more
came running up just when the yard was clearing. I might have
given some of the fellows in charge then, if I had had my wits
about me. But there will be no difficulty, plenty of people can
Identify them.'

'But won't they come back to-night?'

'I'm going to see about a sufficient guard for the premises. I
have appointed to meet Captain Hanbury in half an hour at the
station.'

'You must have some tea first.'

'Tea! Yes, I suppose I must. It's half-past six, and I may be out
for some time. Don't sit up for me, mother.'

'You expect me to go to bed before I have seen you safe, do you?'

'Well, perhaps not.' He hesitated for a moment. 'But if I've
time, I shall go round by Crampton, after I've arranged with the
police and seen Hamper and Clarkson.' Their eyes met; they looked
at each other intently for a minute. Then she asked:

'Why are you going round by Crampton?'

'To ask after Miss Hale.'

'I will send. Williams must take the water-bed she came to ask
for. He shall inquire how she is.'

'I must go myself.'

'Not merely to ask how Miss Hale is?'

'No, not merely for that. I want to thank her for the way in
which she stood between me and the mob.'

'What made you go down at all? It was putting your head into the
lion's mouth!' He glanced sharply at her; saw that she did not
know what had passed between him and Margaret in the
drawing-room; and replied by another question:

'Shall you be afraid to be left without me, until I can get some
of the police; or had we better send Williams for them now, and
they could be here by the time we have done tea? There's no time
to be lost. I must be off in a quarter of an hour.'

Mrs. Thornton left the room. Her servants wondered at her
directions, usually so sharply-cut and decided, now confused and
uncertain. Mr. Thornton remained in the dining-room, trying to
think of the business he had to do at the police-office, and in
reality thinking of Margaret. Everything seemed dim and vague
beyond--behind--besides the touch of her arms round his neck--the
soft clinging which made the dark colour come and go in his cheek
as he thought of it.

The tea would have been very silent, but for Fanny's perpetual
description of her own feelings; how she had been