Chapter One.

A Family Council.

“I say, Uncle Dick, do tell me what sort of a place it is.”

“Oh, you’ll see when you get there!”

“Uncle Jack, you tell me then; what’s it like?”

“Like! What, Arrowfield? Ask Uncle Bob.”

“There, Uncle Bob, I’m to ask you. Do tell me what sort of a place it is?”

“Get out, you young nuisance!”

“What a shame!” I said. “Here are you three great clever men, who know all about it; you’ve been down half a dozen times, and yet you won’t answer a civil question when you are asked.”

I looked in an ill-used way at my three uncles, as they sat at the table covered with papers; and except that one would be a little darker than the other, I could not help thinking how very much they were alike, and at the same time like my father, only that he had some grey coming at the sides of his head. They were all big fine-looking men between thirty and forty, stern enough when they were busy, but wonderfully good-tempered and full of fun when business was over; and I’m afraid they spoiled me.

When, as I say, business was over, they were ready for anything with me, and though I had a great feeling of reverence, almost dread, for my father, my three big uncles always seemed to me like companions, and they treated me as if I were their equal.

Cricket! Ah! Many’s the game we’ve had together. They’d take me fishing, and give me the best pitch, and see that I caught fish if they did not.

Tops, marbles, kite-flying, football; insect and egg collecting; geology, botany, chemistry; they were at home with all, and I shared in the game or pursuit as eagerly as they.

I’ve known the time when they’d charge into the room at Canonbury, where I was busy with the private tutor—for I did not go to school—with “Mr Headley, Mr Russell would like to speak to you;” and as soon as he had left the room, seize hold of me, and drag me out of my chair with, “Come along, Cob: work’s closed for the day. Country!”

Then away we’d go for a delicious day’s collecting, or something of the kind.

They used to call it slackening their bands, and mine.

Time had glided on very happily till I was sixteen, and there was some talk of my being sent to a great engineer’s establishment for five or six years to learn all I could before being taken on at our own place in Bermondsey, where Russell and Company carried on business, and knocked copper and brass and tin about, and made bronze, and gun-metal, and did a great deal for other firms with furnaces, and forges, and steam-engines, wheels, and lathes.

My father was “Russell”—Alexander—and Uncle Dick, Uncle Jack, and Uncle Bob were “Company.” The business, as I say, was in Bermondsey, but we lived together and didn’t live together at Canonbury.

That sounds curious, but I’ll explain:—We had two houses next door to each other. Captain’s quarters, and the barracks.

My father’s house was the Captain’s quarters, where I lived with my mother and sister. The next door, where my uncles were, they called the barracks, where they had their bedrooms and sitting-room; but they took all their meals at our table.

As I said before things had gone on very happily till I was sixteen—a big sturdy ugly boy.

Uncle Dick said I was the ugliest boy he knew.

Uncle Jack said I was the most stupid.

Uncle Bob said I was the most ignorant.

But we were the best of friends all the same.

And now after a great deal of discussion with my father, and several visits, my three uncles were seated at the table, and I had asked them about Arrowfield, and you have read their answers.

I attacked them again.

“Oh, I say,” I cried, “don’t talk to a fellow as if he were a little boy! Come, Uncle Dick, what sort of a place is Arrowfield?”

“Land of fire.”

“Oh!” I cried. “Is it, Uncle Jack?”

“Land of smoke.”

“Land of fire and smoke!” I cried excitedly. “Uncle Bob, are they making fun of me?”

“Land of noise, and gloom, and fog,” said Uncle Bob. “A horrible place in a hole.”

“And are we going there?”

“Don’t know,” said Uncle Bob. “Wait and see.”

They went on with their drawings and calculations, and I sat by the fire in the barrack room, that is, in their sitting-room, trying to read, but with my head in a whirl of excitement about Arrowfield, when my father came in, laid his hand on my head, and turned to my uncles.

“Well, boys,” he said, “how do you bring it in? What’s to be done?”

“Sit down, and let’s settle it, Alick,” said Uncle Dick, leaning back and spreading his big beard all over his chest.

“Ah, do!” cried Uncle Jack, rubbing his curly head.

“Once and for all,” said Uncle Bob, drawing his chair forward, stooping down, taking up his left leg and holding it across his right knee.

My father drew forward an easy-chair, looking very serious, and resting his hand on the back before sitting down, he said without looking at me:

“Go to your mother and sister, Jacob.”

I rose quickly, but with my forehead wrinkling all over, and I turned a pitiful look on my three uncles.

“What are you going to send him away for?” said Uncle Dick.

“Because this is not boys’ business.”

“Oh, nonsense!” said Uncle Jack. “He’ll be as interested in it as we are.”

“Yes, let him stop and hear,” said Uncle Bob.

“Very good. I’m agreeable,” said my father. “Sit down, Jacob.”

I darted a grateful look at my uncles, spreading it round so that they all had a glance, and dropped back into my seat.

“Well,” said my father, “am I to speak?”

“Yes.”

This was in chorus; and my father sat thinking for a few minutes, during which I exchanged looks and nods with my uncles, all of which was very satisfactory.

“Well,” said my father at last, “to put it in short, plain English, we four have each our little capital embarked in our works.”

Here there were three nods.

“We’ve all tried everything we knew to make the place a success, but year after year goes by and we find ourselves worse off. In three more bad years we shall be ruined.”

“And Jacob will have to set to work and keep us all,” said Uncle Dick.

My father looked round at me and nodded, smiling sadly, and I could see that he was in great trouble.

“Here is our position, then, boys: Grandison and Company are waiting for our answer in Bermondsey. They’ll buy everything as it stands at a fair valuation; that’s one half. The other is: the agents at Arrowfield are waiting also for our answer about the works to let there.”

Here he paused for a few moments and then went on:

“We must look the matter full in the face. If we stay as we are the trade is so depreciating that we shall be ruined. If we go to Arrowfield we shall have to begin entirely afresh; to fight against a great many difficulties; the workmen there are ready to strike, to turn upon you and destroy.”

Uncle Dick made believe to spit in his hands.

“To commit outrages.”

Uncle Jack tucked up his sleeves.

“And ratten and blow up.”

Uncle Bob half took off his coat.

“In short, boys, we shall have a terribly hard fight; but there is ten times the opening there, and we may make a great success. That is our position, in short,” said my father. “What do you say?”

My three uncles looked hard at him and then at one another, seemed to read each other’s eyes, and turned back to him.

“You’re oldest, Alick, and head of the firm,” said