At dinner-time I rose, went down-stairs, and waited for my father;
waited one, two, three hours. It was very strange. He never by any
chance overstayed his time, without sending a message home. So after
some consideration as to whether I dared encroach upon his formal
habits so much, and after much advice from Jael, who betrayed more
anxiety than was at all warranted by the cause she assigned, viz. the
spoiled dinner, I despatched Jem Watkins to the tan-yard to see after
his master.

He came back with ill news. The lane leading to the tan-yard was
blocked up with a wild mob. Even the stolid, starved patience of our
Norton Bury poor had come to an end at last--they had followed the
example of many others. There was a bread-riot in the town.

God only knows how terrible those "riots" were; when the people rose in
desperation, not from some delusion of crazy, blood-thirsty
"patriotism," but to get food for themselves, their wives, and
children. God only knows what madness was in each individual heart of
that concourse of poor wretches, styled "the mob," when every man took
up arms, certain that there were before him but two alternatives,
starving or--hanging.

The riot here was scarcely universal. Norton Bury was not a large
place, and had always abundance of small-pox and fevers to keep the
poor down numerically. Jem said it was chiefly about our mill and our
tan-yard that the disturbance lay.

"And where is my father?"

Jem "didn't know," and looked very much as if he didn't care.

"Jael, somebody must go at once, and find my father."

"I am going," said Jael, who had already put on her cloak and hood. Of
course, despite all her opposition, I went too.

The tan-yard was deserted; the mob had divided, and gone, one half to
our mill, the rest to another that was lower down the river. I asked
of a poor frightened bark-cutter if she knew where my father was? She
thought he was gone for the "millingtary;" but Mr. Halifax was at the
mill now--she hoped no harm would come to Mr. Halifax.

Even in that moment of alarm I felt a sense of pleasure. I had not
been in the tan-yard for nearly three years. I did not know John had
come already to be called "Mr. Halifax."

There was nothing for me but to wait here till my father returned. He
could not surely be so insane as to go to the mill--and John was there.
Terribly was my heart divided, but my duty lay with my father.

Jael sat down in the shed, or marc