ould think that you deserved it."

So he flung himself down in his chair and continued his breakfast.

Mr. Mulready drank off his tea without sitting down, and then left the
room without another word; in fact, as yet he did not know what to say.

Almost speechless with passion as he was, he restrained himself from
carrying out his threat and turning Ned at once from the house. Above
all things he prized his position and popularity, and he felt that, as
Ned had said, he would indeed incur a heavy odium by turning his wife's
son from his doors. Captain Sankey's death had thrown almost a halo over
his children. Mr. Mulready knew that he was already intensely unpopular
among the operative class, but he despised this so long as he stood well
with the rest of the townsmen; but he dared not risk Ned's going to work
as an ordinary hand in one of the factories; public opinion is always
against stepfathers, and assuredly this would be no exception. Hating
him as he did, he dared not get rid of this insolent boy, who had struck
and defied him. He cursed himself now with his rashness in letting
his temper get the best of him and telling his wife openly that he had
married her for her money; for this in Ned's hands would be a serious
weapon against him.

That his wife's feelings were hurt he cared not a jot, but it would be
an awkward thing to have it repeated in the town. Then there was this
threatening letter; what was he to do about that? Other men had had
similar warnings. Some had defied Captain Lud, and fortified their mills
and held them. Many had had their property burned to the ground; some
had been murdered. It wouldn't be a pleasant thing to drive about in the
country knowing that at any moment he might be shot dead. His mill was
some little distance out of the town; the road was dark and lonely. He
dared not risk it.

Mr. Mulready was, like all tyrants, a coward at heart, and his face grew
white again as he thought of the letter in his pocket. In the meantime
Mrs. Mulready was alternately sobbing and upbraiding Ned as he quietly
finished his breakfast. The boy did not answer, but continued his meal
in dogged silence, and when it was over collected his books and without
a word went off to school.

Weeks went on, and no outward change took place. Ned continued to live
at home. Mr. Mulready never addressed him, and beyond helping him to
food entirely ignored his presence. At mealtimes when he opened his lips
it was ei