Page:Ragged Trousered Philanthropists.djvu/190

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CHAPTER XVI

The Reign of Terror

The following morning—Saturday—the men went about their work in gloomy silence; there were but few attempts at conversation and no jests or singing. The terror of the impending slaughter pervaded the house. Even those who were confident of being spared and kept on till the job was finished, shared the general depression, not only out of sympathy for the doomed but because they knew that a similar fate was in store for them a little later on.

They all waited anxiously for Nimrod to come, but hour after hour dragged slowly by and he did not arrive. At half-past eleven some of those who had made up their minds that they were to be 'stood still,' began to hope that the slaughter was to be deferred for a few days. After all, there was plenty of work still to be done; even if all hands were kept on, the job could scarcely be finished in another week. Anyhow, it would not be very long now before they would know one way or the other. If he did not come before twelve it was all right: all the hands were paid by the hour and were therefore entitled to an hour's notice.

Easton and Harlow were working together on the staircase, finishing the doors and other woodwork with white enamel. They had not been allowed to spend the time necessary to prepare this work in a proper manner; it had not been rubbed down smooth or properly filled up, nor had a sufficient number of coats of paint been put on to make it solid white. The consequence was the glossy enamel made the work look rather rough and shady.

'It ain't 'arf all right, ain't it?' remarked Harlow, sarcastically, indicating the door he had just finished.

Easton laughed: 'I can't understand how people pass such work,' he said.

'Old Sweater did make some remark about it the other

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