Chapter 21
"Higgins!" Thornton exclaimed, stopping in his tracks. Margaret stopped as well and she and Thornton faced each other.
"Yes, Higgins. I have not been able to see him even once since the wedding and I am afraid he will think I have forgotten him."
"So that is who this basket is for." He looked at the basket in his hand with distaste. He had not even thought to wonder about its contents until now.
"I am bringing him and the children food and other things they need."
"Must you really visit him yourself?" he asked, irritated, before he could stop himself. "Wouldn't it be enough to send Dixon with supplies?"
Margaret drew herself up to her most dignified stance. "You did say that I could continue my friendship with him even after our marriage," she reminded him.
"Yes, but-"
"You do not have to accompany me," Margaret said firmly. "I am quite capable of visiting him on my own, and you must have work waiting for you at the mill. I will not blame you if you decide to turn around now. I will be home well before dinner." Her eyes flashed a challenge.
Thornton stood still for a moment, conflicted. Margaret said she would not blame him if he let her carry out her errand alone, but the defiant look on her face declared otherwise. If he did not go with her now he would ruin the progress they were making as a couple. Besides, the Princeton district, where Higgins lived, was no place for an unaccompanied lady. He would not allow Margaret to face the possibility of any harm, not while he could prevent it.
"We will go together," he pronounced. Margaret's eyes widened but she said nothing. She resumed her place at his side and they continued walking. This time her hand was not resting on his arm.
Thornton now noticed what he had been too absorbed to see around him before. They were on the outskirts of the poorest district of Milton and the neighborhood had changed. The fine townhouses and row homes were gone; in their place were one or two story decrepit buildings with small doors and few windows. The streets narrowed, becoming darker as the light from the sun overhead was cut off. The sidewalk became rough and uneven, with great crumbling gaps in some areas.
Margaret and Thornton were beginning to draw attention from the residents of the district as they went on together. He guessed that the lower classes did not often see a man in a top hat walking in the Princeton district, especially not one holding an oversized wicker basket in one hand. It must have been an incongruous sight. In Margaret's simple dress and shawl she did not stand out as much.
As they passed by an opening between two buildings Thornton's attention was caught by a young mother and her daughter sitting on a narrow step. Their thin homespun clothes and gaunt appearance proclaimed them to be beggars. The child looked up at him hopefully as he drew even with her and she held up a hand, palm open, mutely asking for coins. He guessed her age to be seven or eight.
Margaret moved before he had a chance to stop her. She knelt down to be at the child's eye level and placed a gentle hand on her head, smoothing the fair hair back from the weak forehead. "Have you eaten anything today?" The child shook her head no.
Margaret fumbled with her satchel for a moment, withdrew a coin and pressed it into the girl's hand. Then she reached in again for something to give the girl's mother.
"Never mind, Margaret." Thornton had already withdrawn a sovereign from his inside pocket and offered it to the woman. He might be coming down in the world but he still had far more than either of these two poor souls, both of whom looked old before their time. The mother took the coin from him with a trembling hand, staring as if she could scarcely believe her luck. Then her face lit up with a tremulous smile.
"Thank you, sir."
Thornton nodded gravely.
Margaret and Thornton continued walking together, passing derelict buildings and rough-looking workers on both sides. The narrow streets were more crowded here and they had to walk single file. Thornton was in the uncomfortable position of having to follow Margaret's lead. Without her confident steps ahead of him he would have had no idea where to go. Question after question came to his mind. What had first drawn Margaret to this part of town? How had she met Nicholas Higgins? And how did she decide who to assist with gifts of food and money, when there was so much desperation on every side?
At length Margaret turned down a side street and came to an abrupt stop before a small building with just one glass window. The other opening was covered with heavy parchment paper that would do little to keep out the cold. A flower vase standing forlornly on the closer windowsill was the only sign of habitation. It was here that Margaret stepped up boldly to the door and knocked twice. After a minute, the door opened.
Nicholas Higgins stood in the open doorway, a welcoming smile on his broad face. "Miss Margaret! I didn't think to see you here again!" he exclaimed. Then he saw Thornton and his whole expression changed. He folded his arms over his chest and the two men glared silently and suspiciously at each other. Margaret finally had to gently remind Higgins of her existence. "May we come in?"
"Oh, aye, certainly." Higgins stood back from the doorway, grudgingly allowing them entrance, but he kept his fierce gaze on Thornton. "You are always welcome here."
Thornton caught the barely concealed barb: Margaret, not Thornton, was welcome. It was clear that Higgins would tolerate his presence only for Margaret's sake. Strangely enough, Thornton felt the same way about Higgins.
Inside the house a ragtag assortment of children, busy at play, stopped immediately and stared at the newcomers. With a nod of his head Higgins directed them all to sit on a small bed in the corner. They moved quickly and sat without asking anything, still staring. It was Margaret who broke the sudden silence by stating the obvious. "Nicholas, you know my husband, Mr. Thornton."
"We have met." Higgins pointedly avoided offering his hand.
"One too many times," Thornton rejoined, no friendlier than Nicholas.
"This will never do," Margaret interjected, drawing Thornton forward. "Come, now, if you cannot be friends for your own sake, you must try to be friends for mine. Will you not try to get along, please?"
Thornton could withstand anything but a request from Margaret. A pleading look from her was enough to make him extend his hand towards the other man; he was annoyed to discover that Higgins had beaten him to the moment, his hand already extended. They shook quickly. Then Higgins turned his attention back to Margaret.
"I'm right surprised to see you here, miss. I thought perhaps you'd be too busy for us, in your grand new house."
"Don't be silly, Nicholas. I'll never be too busy for friends. Where is Mary?"
"She went to the butcher's looking for meat for supper. She'll be back soon."
As they spoke Thornton took the time to look around him at the dismal hovel Higgins called home. Thornton was not unfamiliar with darkened rooms and windows covered by oiled paper; he and his family had once lived in similar surroundings. But he found himself staring at the children in the corner, who looked back at him with frank interest. The oldest could not be more than twelve years old and the youngest, perhaps about five. They all had fair hair and high brows, a sharp contrast to Higgins' dark looks and wide face. "Are these your children?" he heard himself asking.
"They're mine now," Higgins answered, looking at Thornton evenly. He offered no further information.
"They were Boucher's children," Margaret clarified, moving to the small table in the room. "You remember Boucher, don't you? After he passed Nicholas took in his children and he has been raising them ever since."
Six young lives depended on this one man. Thornton again looked around at the cramped, spartan conditions, wondering how Higgins managed it. Higgins had been without proper work since the end of the strike months earlier, even though he had been to nearly all of the masters looking for a position. None of the mills were willing to hire a known strike organizer; Higgins was effectively blackballed. It was this very fear of being blackballed and unable to provide for his children that had driven Boucher to take his own life.
"I would have told you about Boucher's children yesterday, master, if I could have spoken to you." Higgins looked at Thornton knowingly, and suddenly Thornton recalled that Higgins had tried to approach him the day before to ask for work. He had forgotten about the man utterly until this moment.
"Were you at Marlboro Mills yesterday, Higgins?" Margaret asked curiously, glancing at him over her shoulder. Her hands were busy opening the basket and withdrawing a number of wrapped items, which she placed on the wooden table. "I was there in the early afternoon but I did not see you."
"I were there from eight in the morning till past two, miss, waiting to hear about a job."
Margaret did not pause in her work. "Did you not announce yourself at the gate? I'm sure Mr. Thornton would have spoken with you if he had known you wanted to see him."
Thornton winced. He had assumed that Higgins had left the mill after Huely told him Thornton was too busy to see him. What possessed the man to stay for so long after he had been turned away?
He had to intervene before Higgins made things worse. He took a step towards Higgins, trying to look contrite. "I was not aware you were waiting so long to speak to me, Higgins. I should have given you an audience at once."
Higgins looked shrewdly between him and Margaret. "It weren't nothing I'm not used to. The masters don't care much for me, nor I for them, I reckon."
"You waited all that time to see Mr. Thornton, yet you were not able to speak with him?" Now Margaret was looking incredulously between the two men.
"As I said, it was my mistake." Thornton hoped desperately that Margaret would believe him. "If you come to the mill tomorrow we can talk then."
"But you are together, here, already," Margaret objected. "Can you not speak together now?"
"Only if it would be convenient for the master." There was a glint in Higgins' eye, and Thornton realized he was cornered.
"I believe you wanted a job, did you not?" he asked, resigning himself to the inevitable.
Higgins spoke earnestly, eagerly. "Aye, I want a job all right. I've a steady hand and I'm a hard worker. Ask anyone-they'll tell you I've always put in my hours fair."
"I know your work by reputation, Higgins. I'm not worried about your ability with a loom, but I do wonder what you'll do for the union on company time," he said challengingly. He half expected Margaret to object to this statement, but she stayed quiet, watching the two men carefully.
"I'll do nowt with the union while I'm earning wages from you, and that's the truth. But I can't answer what I'll be doing at night. Off company time what I do is my own business, I reckon." Higgins didn't back down from the challenge.
"What you do off hours is none of my concern."
"I'll give you fair warning if there's any complaints being made about you, and tell you if there's any trouble being planned. You'll get no surprises from me."
"You'll warn me so that I'll know to bring myself up to your union standards? Thank you, but no. I'll not answer to the union for how I run my mill." Thornton was used to hearing threats couched as promises.
"That's not what I meant," Higgins said, looking aggrieved. "I'm not looking to cause trouble, but to head it off before it gets to anything as mean and nasty as a strike again. You can see for yourself I've plenty of mouths to feed. I need the work. You can count on me, master, sure as your name is John Thornton."
"Well! You've no end of cheek, I can count on that, at least," Thornton answered, still watching the other man with narrowed gaze. He was not sure whether to be offended or amused by the man's impertinence.
"Do we have an arrangement, then? Can I come to Marlboro Mills and run a loom for you?"
Margaret had still not spoken but stood silently by, watching. Thornton had not forgotten her presence, but he was more interested in evaluating the man in front of him. After months of railing against Higgins and the other strike organizers in his mind he found that his anger had dissipated. The man was bold, yes, but also principled. Despite their past history Thornton had to admit a grudging respect for him. And there were the six young pairs of eyes watching from the corner of the room. He wrestled with himself for a moment, remembering the trouble Higgins had caused him, but at last he extended his hand.
"Come sharp to first shift tomorrow and present yourself to Huely again. If he likes you he'll give you a place. But mind you come sharp, or there'll be nothing for you. Now you know where you are."
"I know my place well enough already," Higgins confirmed. "I'll be there, master, and I'll thank you for the chance." This time the two men did not need Margaret's encouragement to seal their agreement.
Thornton and Margaret did not stay for long after this exchange. The children swarmed to the table after Margaret finished unwrapping the foodstuffs and small sweetmeats she had assembled, and it was clear that their attention was directed by their hunger. Tonight, at least, they had a chance of going to sleep with full stomachs.
Higgins was as grateful as any man could be, both for the contents of the basket and for the job Thornton had given him. He was not an effusive man; years of rough work had made him coarse and broad, not apt to fine speeches and expressions of gratitude. But his manner towards Thornton warmed considerably, and by the time they left Thornton felt that the icy anger between the union and Marlboro Mills might have started to thaw. The union would never look to Thornton or any other master as a friend, but some of the bitterness of the strike had finally been set aside.
As they walked back towards Marlboro Mills together Thornton looked down at his wife. "Was it your idea for Higgins to ask me for a job, or did he decide to approach me on his own?"
"I have not seen him since our wedding, but Mary told me how he was struggling, and I sent him a note saying that I was sure you would give him a fair hearing."
He had to be honest with her. "Margaret, I thought he was only there on behalf of the union, to cause trouble. I was not going to give him a job."
She frowned slightly at his admission but said nothing. He continued. "Without your intervention I would have carried out a great injustice. Thank you for saving me from my own stubbornness."
"You would have given him a hearing sooner or later. You are a very fair man."
"You give me too much credit."
"I think you do not give yourself enough." Margaret looked up at him with her mouth upturned slightly. Thornton saw that her eyes had the soft, starry look he admired so much. Her glossy dark hair shone as though she were walking in full sunlight, and there was a rosy glow, pleasing to see, on her alabaster skin. Her whole appearance was so lovely, her aspect so unintentionally inviting, that Thornton nearly forgot to breathe. He stopped walking and Margaret stopped with him, her eyes widening in surprise.
Thornton was not aware that he was learning towards her. He only knew that he wanted to kiss her and that it was too soon. Surely she would push him away if he declared himself now. Surely this would be the end of their new found accord. Yet Margaret had not moved, and there was an expression of trust on her upturned face, a look of wonder he had not seen there before as she held his gaze with her own. He honestly did not know what would happen next.
A clap of thunder overhead broke the moment and they both looked up to the sky. A few small sprinkles of rain fell, then several more, and it was apparent that a real downpour was about to start. Thornton shook his head as if to clear out a fog. "I do not suppose you have an umbrella in there," he said, motioning towards the basket in Margaret's hand.
"I did not think to include one." Margaret looked amused by their sudden predicament, not distressed. "And I suppose you will tell me that gentlemen do not carry umbrellas in their jacket pockets, either."
"Not this gentleman, anyway." He could not help grinning at Margaret's light-hearted expression. Even being caught in a rainstorm was a pleasure, as long as he was with her. He glanced at the threatening sky, then back at Margaret again. "There is only one thing for it- we shall have to run and do our best to go between the rain drops!" He extended his hand to her and was delighted when she took it in her own. Laughing like children, breathless with excitement, they ran together through the advancing rain all the way back to Marlboro Mills.