His
eyes held the Squire, who was for the moment silenced. Then the
engineer turned on his heel with a laugh:
'Well, good-day to you, Mr. Mannering. Go and fasten up your gates!
If I'm for minding D.O.R.A. and winning the war, I'm a good
Socialist all the same. I shall be for making short work with you,
when our day comes.' And touching his hat, he walked rapidly away.
The Squire straightened his shoulders, and looked round to see
whether they had been overheard. But the labourers carrying the
hurdles, and Gregson burdened with the coil of wire, had not been
listening. They stood now in a group close to the main gate waiting
for their leader. The Squire walked up to them, picking his way
among various articles of furniture, a cradle, some bedding, a trunk
or two, which lay scattered in the road in front of the white
casemented lodge. The wife of old Perley, the lodge-keeper, was
standing on her doorstep.
'Well, no offence, Muster Mannering, but Perley and me's going over
to my sister's at Wood End to-night, afore the milingtary come.
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