terset, answer me truly, have you not in your possession several Bank of England notes bearing date twenty years ago; and are not the numbers these which are written on this paper?"

As he spoke he handed a slip of paper to Mr. Winterset, who glanced at it, and then became increasingly perturbed. For some seconds there was no reply. Mr. Winterset seemed to be taking counsel with himself. But presently his mind was made up, and he spoke, though with a visible effort.

"No, you are mistaken. I have neither the box nor the notes which you mention. But what is the matter with you? What do you want? If you are in poverty say so, and I will help you."

The man's eyes were SO wild that Mr. Winterset was frightened, and Arthur again said to himself, "The man is mad." "I have no wish to be hard upon you," he said, while his face wore a cunning look. "If you will give me forty-five shillings a week to keep away from you I will do so."

66 Will you, indeed ? said Mr. Winterset eagerly. "Then I will pay you the money."

Arthur could not believe his own ears. Was Mr. Winterset going mad too? Or had the wild man some claim upon him? He felt that he must warn him against such folly, and he took out his pocket-book, and writing the words, "If you do that you are owning that what the man has accused you of is true," handed it to Mr. Winterset. But he wrote back in a trembling hand, "No; I am merely doing it to get rid of the man, who is in

sane.

Have you written out an agreement ?" inquired the man. "No."

"But you must do so, and let this gentleman sign it."

"Very well. Will you do it for me, Dalebury? I'm not quite myself to-night."

"What shall I write ?"

"That I agree to pay the man forty-five shillings a week." "As hush-money?

"No, Dalebury! Why do you put it so? I pay it him because he is in distress, and I wish to help him; but I do it only on condition that he keeps away from me, and does not make any further claim."

"I never heard of such a mad thing in my life," said Arthur. Then he turned to the man : "What is your name?

"Yes! What is your name? I do not even know your name," said Mr. Winterset to the man.

Arthur laid down the pen, and went toward the door.

"Mr. Winterset, I must really decline to have anything to do with such an extraordinary affair."

"Oh, very well," said the gentleman, haughtily. "I will summon one of my servants. I suppose I may trust to your honour not to speak of this ? "

'Certainly. And do let me say that I hope you will not yield to this man's most absurd demands."

Mr. Winterset's only answer was to ring the bell.

Arthur went away very perplexed and sad. He did not feel that

he could again enter Mrs. Winterset's presence on that evening; but he felt that the circumstance which had just occurred was both mysterious and suspicious.

CHAPTER XIX.-A STRIKE.

It was about a year after the events related in the last chapter that Arthur Dalebury paid a visit to his sister, and found her in great distress.

66

Why, Maudie, what is the matter?" he said. you have all the trouble of the nation upon you."

"You look as if

"Do I, Art? I am so dreadfully anxious that if you had not called I should have sent for you.”

"I am very glad that I have come; but now tell me why you want me, and what I can do."

"I do not know whether you can do anything; and yet," she said, brightly, the old confidence in her brother returning, "there are few things that are impossible; and if any one can prevent the trouble, no doubt you can."

“Well, Maudie, I know that a woman must tell her story in a roundabout way; but still the sooner you can let me have it the better pleased I shall be."

"Have you heard the news?"

"What news?

"Mr. Winterset's men have struck work to-night."

"You do not mean that! I have not heard a word of it."

"No. They have kept it very close, but it is true. Father himself told me so, and I'm afraid that he is one of the leaders." "But why have they struck ?"

"They want more money and shorter hours. They say that now every man is going to have a vote, and that nobody will work so hard or so long in future as they have done in the past.”

"It is the old story."

"Yes, and the old trouble."

"Have the men any money to support them?"

66

Very little, I believe. The union will allow them something, and perhaps a few of the men have saved a few pounds."

"Very few indeed, I am afraid. But if there is no money the men cannot hold out long. Their wives and children cannot starve." "Oh, I do not know that the men would mind very much if they did, so long as they themselves had plenty," said Maud, bitterly. "Has father saved any money?”

"He had a little, but not enough to be of much use; and the little that he had is given to the men who need it."

"He needs it himself."

"I am afraid he is depending upon you for help," said Maud through her tears.

"Is he? Well, of course I will do what I can, but strikes are senseless things, and I shall tell father so."

"Do, Art. He has great influence with the men, and I do believe he could get them to go back to work again if he chose."

But he did not choose, and was very angry with his son for suggesting such a course of action.

"The masters have had their own way long enough," he said; "it is the men's turn now. We are not going to work like slaves any longer, and we told Mr. Winterset so, and asked him to give us higher wages for shorter hours. His look of astonishment and alarm was something good to see. I was one of the deputation, and I would not have missed it for a week's wages. Of course he was as insolent as possible, denied us even before he had heard our story, and declared that he gives us as much as he can afford, and as much as we are worth. You see he does not care in the least about us; he only cares for his own pockets, and it is there that we are going to touch him. He has some good orders in, but of course he cannot execute them without us, and we are determined not to go to work until he comes to our terms. We will see who can hold out the longest."

"How absurd! Mr. Winterset can hold out as long as he pleases, for he has money; but as for the men, they will themselves be the greatest sufferers."

"I do not believe it."

"And, father, I hope you will not forget that Mr. Winterset has been very good and kind to us."

"Has he, Art? I think he has, one way or another, got enough out of us to pay him for all that he has done for us. We owe him very little gratitude even personally; but I look at this matter as it touches my fellow-workmen, and not myself alone. And I tell you candidly that if I could I would not prevent the strike."

So it continued. For the first week it seemed rather a pleasant thing than otherwise. The men were glad of the holiday, and they went out with their wives, and made as merry as they could. But the next week it was different. The money ran short, and its want began even so soon to make itself felt. The men stood at the street corners with their pipes in their mouths, and the women were bad tempered. The homes were less attractive, and the public-houses were too well filled. The men and women quarrelled with each other, and no one seemed bright and pleasant. It became necessary to retrench, and one of the first expenses which was cut off was the school money.

"We cannot afford to send the children to school while the strike is on," said the foolish people; and several hundred little ones were thrown upon the streets, to increase the noise and discomfort and general desolation of the place. After a fortnight

in the streets, the children's clothes began to be the worse for wear, and soon the juvenile population of one part of the town was ragged and dirty as well as ill-fed. Every week the distress became greater. The money that the men received was not more than a third of their usual wages; and even when they had them in full it was difficult to make both ends meet. Towards the end of the strike the people sold the best of their household furniture, or pawned it for money for their immediate use. In this way homes were rifled, and harm was done that could not easily be undone, and the people knew in a few weeks more misery than they had experienced all their lives before.

The thoughtful lookers on mourned these circumstances greatly,

and many of them sought to alleviate them.

It is true there were not wanting evil spirits to ferment the strife; for some persons carried to Mr. Winterset stories of what his people had said of him, making his heart more bitter towards them, and some, instead of trying to bring peace among the people, urged them to stand out, and repeatedly reminded them of the great wealth of the master. But others endeavoured to bring about a reconciliation, thus pouring oil upon the troubled waters.

But no one did this very effectually until Arthur Dalebury addressed a circular to the men offering to act as arbitrator, and inviting them to come to a meeting and hear a few words from him on the subject. That Dalebury was held in respect by the men was abundantly proved on that occasion; for they came to the meeting in great numbers and listened attentively to what he had to say. His words were those of peace and reconciliation, and they had a great effect.

"The young man means well. Let us do as he says." "He is to be trusted.

friend."

He was one of us, and he is our

"Yes, he has proved that. He has changed my boy, who was a great trouble to his mother and me, into a good boy."

"He has taken great pains with my lad, and taught him well, and got him a good situation."

"I believe my boy would have died a month ago in a bad illness which he had, if it had not been for Mr. Arthur Dalebury." Let us trust him. He will get better terms from the master than we could."

Arthur's heart thrilled with joy and thankfulness when he heard these words. The people decided to leave the case in his hands, and though he knew that it would be a delicate and difficult negotiation, his spirit rose to the occasion, and he gladly undertook to be the mediator between the opposing powers.

It was his first public work, but he did it so well that it was the foundation of a life of rare usefulness. He contrived to satisfy both parties, to make Mr. Winterset more thoughtful for his men than he had ever been before, and to bring peace and plenty back to the houses of most of his people, and they never forgot what a friend they had found in Arthur Dalebury.

(To be continued.)

NOTICE TO CORRESPONDENTS.

The Editor of the CHRISTIAN WORLD MAGAZINE begs respectfully to intimate to voluntary contributors that she will not hold herself responsible for MSS. sent on approval. Unaccepted MSS. of any great length will be returned, provided the name and address of the owner is written on the first or last page, and provided also that the necessary stamps are enclosed for transmission through the post. Authors are recommended to keep copies of verses, short essays, and minor articles generally, since they cannot, under any circumstances, be returned. Miscellaneous contributions are not requested.

THE

CHRISTIAN WORLD MAGAZINE,

DECEMBER, 1874.

Author of

WE AND OUR NEIGHBOURS.

BY HARRIET BEECHER STOWE,

"Uncle Tom's Cabin," "The Minister's Wooing," "My Wife and I."

CHAPTER XVI.-OUR FIRST THURSDAY.

MR. ST. JOHN was sitting in his lonely study contemplating the possibilities of the evening with some apprehension.

Perhaps few women know how much of an ordeal general society is to many men. Women are naturally social and gregarious, and have very little experience of the kind of shyness that is the outer bark of many manly natures, and in which they fortify all the more sensitive part of their being against the rude shocks of the world.

As we said, Mr. St. John's life had been that of a recluse and scholar to the time of his ordination as a priest. He was a New England Puritan by birth and education, and with all those habits of reticence and self-control which a New England education enforces. His religious experiences, being those of reaction from a sterile and severe system of intellectual dogmatism, still carried with them a tinge of the precision and narrowness of his early life. His was a nature like some of the streams of his native mountains, inclining to cut for itself straight, deep, narrow currents, and all his religious reading and thinking had run in one channel. As to social life, he first began to find it among his inferiors, among those to whom he came not as a brother man, but as an authoritative teacher-a master-a teacher divinely appointed, set apart from the