A figure in the hall turned, and in a moment the
boy had his mother in his arms, while he capered about the hall with
her in pure delight.
The good woman gave a cry, but she was not of the fainting kind, and
soon she was weeping and laughing by turns, kissing her handsome lad
again and again. Presently, as if forgetting herself, she cried, "Ah,
my boy, there's a parlous deed going on up at the Towers! You should
be going to help." And George learned to his astonishment that the
Squire's house was being at that moment attacked by a formidable and
desperate gang. Fairburn had gone off to render what assistance he
could. It was reported that the few defenders were holding the house
against the besiegers, but that they could hold out little longer. The
Fairburn pitmen had declined to be mixed up in the quarrel, as they
called it.
"Good Heavens!" exclaimed George, "what a state of things!"
Bolting out of the house, he ran back at full speed to the wharf, his
plan already clear in his head. Within ten minutes he was leading to
Binfield Towers every man jack of the little crew, the old skipper
included. The pace was not half quick enough, and when, at a turn in
the road, an empty coal cart was met, George seized the head of the
nag, and slewed him round, crying "All aboard, mates!" The crew
tumbled in, and in an instant the lieutenant was whipping up the
animal, to the utter astonishment of the carter.
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