"It is a matter of life and death to us," said Cole.
"That is true. But mind--the place, and not the man." Cole assented, and then Grotait took him on to a certain bridge, and pointed out the one weak side of Bob and Little's fortress, and showed him how the engine-chimney could be got at and blown down, and so the works stopped entirely: "And I'll tell you something," said he; "that chimney is built on a bad foundation, and was never very safe; so you have every chance."
Then they chaffered about the price, and at last Grotait agreed to give him L20.
Cole went to Coventry, and told how far Grotait would allow him to go: "But," said he, "L20 is not enough. I run an even chance of being hung or lagged."
"Go a step beyond your instructions, and I'll give you a hundred pounds."
"I daren't," said Cole: "unless there was a chance to blow up the place with the man in it." Then, after a moment's reflection, he said: "I hear he sleeps in the works. I must find out where."
Accordingly, he talked over one of the women in the factory, and gained the following information, which he imparted to Mr. Coventry:
Little lived and slept in a detached building recently erected, and the young woman who had overpowered Hill slept in a room above him.
She passed in the works for his sweetheart, and the pair were often locked up together for hours at a time in a room called the "Experiment Room."
This information took Coventry quite by surprise, and imbittered his hatred of Little. While Cole was felicitating him on the situation of the building, he was meditating how to deal his hated rival a stab of another kind.
Cole, however, was single-minded in the matter; and the next day he took a boat and drifted slowly down the river, and scanned the place very carefully.
He came at night to Coventry, and told him he thought he might perhaps be able to do the trick without seeming to defy Grotait's instructions. "But," said he, "it is a very dangerous job.
Premises are watched: and, what do you think? they have got wires up now that run over the street to the police office, and Little can ring a bell in Ransome's room, and bring the bobbies across with a rush in a moment. It isn't as it was under the old chief constable; this one's not to be bought nor blinded. I must risk a halter."
"You shall have fifty pounds more."
"You are a gentleman, sir. I should like to have it in hard sovereigns. I'm afraid of notes. They get traced somehow."
"You shall have it all in sovereigns."
"I want a little in advance, to buy the materials. They are costly, especially the fulminating silver."
Coventry gave him ten sovereigns, and they parted with the understanding that Cole should endeavor to blow up the premises on some night when Little was in them, and special arrangements were made to secure this.
Henry Little and Grace Carden received each of them, an anonymous letter, on the same day.
Grace Carden's ran thus:--"I can't abide to see a young lady made a fool of by a villain. Mr. Little have got his miss here: they dote on each other. She lives in the works, and so do he, ever since she came, which he usen't afore. They are in one room, as many as eight hours at a stretch, and that room always locked. It is the talk of all the girls. It is nought to me, but I thought it right you should know, for it is quite a scandal. She is a strapping country lass, with a queerish name. This comes from a strange, but a well-wisher.
"FAIR PLAY."
The letter to Henry Little was as follows:--"The reason of so many warnings and ne'er a blow, you had friends in the trade. But you have worn them out. You are a doomed man.
Prepare to meet your God.
"[Drawing of coffin.]"
This was the last straw on the camel's back, as the saying is.
He just ground it in his hand, and then he began to act.
He set to work, packed up models, and dispatched them by train; clothes ditto, and wrote a long letter to his mother.
Next day he was busy writing and arranging papers till the afternoon. Then he called on Grace, as related, and returned to the works about six o'clock: he ordered a cup of tea at seven, which Jael brought him. She found him busy writing letters, and one of these was addressed to Grace Carden.
That was all she saw of him that night; for she went to bed early, and she was a sound sleeper.
It was nine o'clock of this same evening.
Mr. Coventry, disguised in a beard, was walking up and down a certain street opposite the great door of the works.
He had already walked and lounged about two hours. At last Cole joined him for a moment and whispered in a tone full of meaning, "Will it do now?"
Coventry's teeth chattered together as he replied, "Yes; now is the time."
"Got the money ready?"
"Yes."
"Let us see it."
"When you have done what you promised me."
"That very moment?"
"That very moment."
"Then I'll tell you what you must do. In about an hour go on the new bridge, and I'll come to you; and, before I've come to you many minutes, you'll see summut and hear summut that will make a noise in Hillsbro', and, perhaps, get us both into trouble."
"Not if you are as dexterous as others have been."
"Others! I was in all those jobs. But this is the queerest. I go to it as if I was going to a halter. No matter, a man can but die once."
And, with these words, he left him and went softly down to the water-side. There, in the shadow of the new bridge, lay a little boat, and in it a light-jointed ladder, a small hamper, and a basket of tools. The rowlocks were covered with tow, and the oars made no noise whatever, except the scarce audible dip in the dark stream.
It soon emerged below the bridge like a black spider crawling down the stream, and melted out of sight the more rapidly that a slight fog was rising.
Cole rowed softly past the works, and observed a very faint light in Little's room. He thought it prudent to wait till this should be extinguished, but it was not extinguished. Here was an unexpected delay.
