The Regency (68 page)

‘What is it, Wendell?' Jasper prompted.

‘
Go on, man, speak up,' Hobsbawn added, seeing Wendell was still overcome at the unexpected presence of his master.
‘Don't be afraid. What is it you've got to tell?'

‘
Luddites, sir!' Wendell managed at last. 'A-coming to
break the frames and burn us down, sir! Thousands of 'em! There's a sojer come to warn us, so I come here to find Mr
Jasper, sir.'

‘A soldier? Where? Who?' Hobsbawn asked sharply.

‘
Here, sir.' Lieutenant Hawker came striding down the
aisle between the machines. He looked taken aback as he saw
Fanny. 'Good God, Miss Morland! What are you doing here?
Sir, Miss Morland must leave at once, before the mob gets
here.'

‘
What mob?' Hobsbawn demanded. 'Tell me what you
know, and quick about it.'

‘We received information a few hours ago that an army of
frame-breakers plans to attack your Number Three Mill this
morning, sir,' Hawker said succinctly. 'They are —'

‘
Number Three? What the deuce —? Nay, lad you must be
wrong there. Number Three isn't in operation — never has
been. No-one knows about it.'

‘
I only know what I have been told, sir,' Hawker said
patiently. 'Is your Number Three a weaving-factory?’

Hobsbawn looked troubled. 'Aye — but no-one knows that,
bar Jasper here, and my overseers. All trustworthy men.'

‘
Well, sir, you know best about that. All I know is that it is
the hand-loom weavers who are marching, with help from the
spinners who have been laid off, and they have sworn to break every weaving-frame in Manchester. Somehow the
information about your Number Three must have got out. At
all events, they are on their way there now, and I have
come —’

Hobsbawn interrupted again. 'But they will not attack in
daylight, surely?’

Hawker looked grim. 'These Luddites have grown bolder
since the spring. They are also armed, sir, with muskets and
pistols. This is no rag-tag mob of unorganised labourers: this
is an army under discipline, with officers and a plan of attack.
I am deploying my men around your mill to meet them, but I
came on ahead to warn you to take yourself off to a place of
safety.’

Hobsbawn looked grim. ‘Thankee, sir, but I'm going to
Number Three this minute to see for myself. Jasper, get every
man you can, that we can trust —' His eye came round to
Fanny, whom for a moment he had forgotten. 'Fanny, you
must go home at once, and stay there until I come.’

Hawker looked astonished. 'Sir, you cannot mean Miss
Morland to go home alone? It is much too dangerous! Surely
you mean to go with her?'

‘
I cannot leave my mills!' Hobsbawn cried, distracted. He
looked from Hawker to Fanny. 'I cannot. You understand,
don't you Fanny, love?'

‘
Of course, Grandpapa,' Fanny said. 'I'm not afraid.' But
the thought of that flood of rats came unbidden to her mind,
and her cheeks were pale.

Hawker stepped in. 'Sir, if you will permit me, I will escort
Miss Morland home. But it must be now. I cannot answer for
the consequences if we delay any further.’

Hobsbawn's face lit with relief and gratitude. 'Aye, go!' he
cried. 'And God bless you, young man! Fanny, go on, now. I'll
come home when I can. Hurry!’

Fanny hurried along beside Hawker, her mind reeling. As
soon as they were out of sight of her grandfather, she said, 'Is
there really so much danger? Or was it a ruse?’

Hawker grinned down at her. 'Do you think I would invent
a whole riot, just for the sake of seeing you again, Miss
Morland?'

‘
Yes,' Fanny said boldly. ‘Grandpapa told me what you said
to him outside the factory yesterday, about liking concerts
and so on.'

‘
Ah yes, that was unfortunate. How was I to know he
would try to trap me? But on this occasion, Miss Morland, I
had no idea you were here. How could I? Had I known it —
but however, we really must hurry. There is a mob on its
way here, but I shall get you safe away before it arrives. I
exaggerated the urgency, not the nature of the danger, in order to make your grandfather the more grateful for my
intervention.

‘
You are utterly unscrupulous, Mr Hawker,' Fanny said
severely.

He smiled at her in a way that made her heart beat faster.
‘Miss Morland, I rather suspect that you are too! Might I ask
what you were doing at the factory at all?'

‘You may not,' Fanny said repressively.

‘
It is hardly the place for a woman,' Hawker mused, un
repentant. 'Perhaps you felt you ought to shew an interest?
Wheedling your way into your grandpapa's heart, eh?’

Fanny blushed. ‘Mr Hawker, you may shew me to my
carriage. I shall not need your escort — or your ungentlemanly remarks — any further.’

Hawker grinned. 'Do I come too near home? I beg your
pardon — my manners are disgraceful, I know. But I shall
escort you all the way home nevertheless — for two very good reasons.'

‘Name them,' Fanny said haughtily.

‘
With pleasure,' he said promptly. 'First, that there really is a
mob, and I believe some considerable danger, and second —'
he paused teasingly.

‘Well?' she prompted at last.

‘
Second, because I do not know when I may have another chance to win your gratitude, Miss Morland, and a soft look
from those heavenly eyes of yours. Ah, here we are. Allow me
to help you into the carriage, then I'll have a word with old
Coachman.’

Fanny could think of nothing witty or cutting to say, and
had to content herself with a dignified silence as he helped her
into the carriage. Her maid had evidently been talking to the
gatekeeper in her absence, for she greeted Fanny with, 'Oh,
Miss Morland, whatever is to come of us? They say there's a
thousand rebels coming, armed with pistols, to burn down the
mills, and we will be killed for sure. Oh Miss Morland, I'm so
afraid!’

Fanny pushed away the clutching hands. 'Oh, hush, Letty,
don't you see Lieutenant Hawker is going to escort us home? We shall be quite safe. Now hold your tongue, I want to hear
what's said.’

Hawker came to the window on Fanny's side of the carriage.
‘I shall ride alongside you, Miss Morland, in case of any
trouble, but I don't anticipate any. Coachman knows the best
way to go.’

A moment later the gatekeeper opened the gate, the
carriage passed through, and with Hawker riding alongside,
turned into Water Street. Fanny was feeling rather a sense of
anticlimax, and began to plan how to tell the story to Agnes
Pendlebury to make it sound more exciting, when the carriage
suddenly lurched and stopped, and Letty gave an involuntary
shriek.

‘
Hush!' Fanny said sharply, slapping her hand. She heard the men's voices outside, Hawker's and the coachman's, and
leaning out of the window, saw with a cold sensation that the
street was inordinately full of people.

‘
Go on,' she heard Hawker say. 'Turn right at the next
junction. We'll try and cut across to Deansgate.'

‘
Mr Hawker, what is it?' Fanny called. He reined his horse
and fell back beside her.

‘
A crowd up ahead. They don't look dangerous, but it's
best if we avoid them. We don't want trouble if we can help it.’

They turned down Grape Lane, and the carriage jolted
violently over the rutted surface of the unmade road. There
were more people, mostly just standing about, as she had seen
them before; but now their silence and immobility seemed
somehow menacing. She told herself that it was just imagin
ation, and that she was being as silly as Letty, who was crooning
her fear under her breath in a kind of lament for past sins
and a promise of doing better in the future if she were
spared.

The carriage was moving more slowly, and Fanny heard
the coachman's whip cracking more often, together with
shouts from him for the way to be cleared. The people seemed
to be clustering more thickly. Hawker shouted too; and then
suddenly a clod of mud hit the side of the carriage, making
the women jump. Another hit the window-frame, and a
spattering of dry crumbs hit Fanny's cheek and shoulder. She
gave an involuntary cry and drew back, reaching for the strap
to pull up the window.

At the same instant she saw in the crowds, now pressing
all too close, the same young woman that she had seen in
Piccadilly. Their eyes met, but this time there was no sense of
sympathy between them. The mill-girl's face was twisted with
rage and hatred. She stooped in one swift movement to pick
up a broken piece of wood and ran at the carriage with it
raised above her head, shouting something incoherently.
Fanny pulled the window up just as the girl brought her
makeshift weapon down in a violent blow. It hit the glass, but fortunately did not break it, bouncing off harmlessly.

Fanny stared in fright for an instant at the girl's dirty,
contorted face, only inches from her; she doubted whether the
girl even recognised her, and it was dreadful to be the object
of so unreasoning an attack. Then Hawker's hand appeared
in her line of sight. Holding his pistol by the barrel, he struck
the girl on the side of the head. Fanny screamed; the girl's ,
face froze in an expression of shock; and then she seemed to
crumple, and disappeared out of sight.

It had all happened in an instant; but when the girl
collapsed, there was a cry from the crowd like a composite
animal moan, the sound of one beast with a hundred mouths,
and like one beast they surged forward to surround the coach.
Fanny heard shouts from Coachman, a furious cracking of
his whip, thumps and thuds as the crowd beat on the side
of the carriage. One of the horses whinneyed in shrill fear.
A horrible face, toothless and with only one eye leered in at
the window, and Letty screamed abandonedly.

‘
Hold the door shut,' Fanny snapped at her, seizing the
handle on the door her side only just in time. It was tugged
violently, but she held on grimly, aware that if she were
pulled from the coach, she would very likely be killed. ‘Get
away!' she screamed, in furious defiance. The door tugged
again, her hands were slipping. More faces pressed in behind
the toothless one. The door was jerked half open, and with a
sob of fear and anger she just managed to pull it shut again.
‘Get away from me!' she screamed.