have stopped a farthing from the week's unearned wages. That he had
to encounter a certain amount of ill usage from the rough men about
him, and to forgive it, he could understand; but it could not be his
duty, either as a man or a master, to pass over dishonesty without
noticing it. No; that he would not do, though Gangoil should burn
from end to end. He did not much mind being robbed. He knew that to a
certain extent he must endure to be cheated. He would endure it. But
he would never teach his men to think that he passed over such
matters because he was afraid of them, or that dishonesty on their
part was indifferent to him.

But now he had made another enemy--an enemy of a man who had declared
to him that he knew the movements of "that chap," meaning Nokes! How
hard the world was! It seemed that all around were trouble to him. He
turned his horse back, and made again for the spot which was his
original destination. As he cantered on among the trees, twisting
here and there, and regulating his way by the stars, he asked himself
whether it would not be better for him to go home and lay himself
down by his wife and sleep, and await the worst that these men could
do to him. This idea was so strong upon him that at one spot he made
his horse stop till he had thought it all out. No one encouraged him
in his work. Every one about the place, friend or foe, Bates, his
wife, Medlicot, and this Boscobel, spoke to him as though he were
fussy and fidgety in his anxiety. "If fires must come, they will
come; and if they are not to come, you are simply losing your labor."
This was the upshot of all they said to him. Why should he be wiser
than they? If the ruin came, let it come. Old Bates had been ruined,
but still had enough to eat and drink, and clothes to wear, and did
not work half as hard as his employer. He thought that if he could
only find some one person who would sympathize with him and support