will seven years ago i' thy favour.'

'Thank ye,' said Mark gratefully.

'But that,' the dying man continued with a frown--'that was afore
thou'dst taken up with these socialistic doctrines o' thine. I've heard
as thou'rt going to be th' secretary o' the Hanbridge Labour Church, as
they call it.'

Hanbridge is the metropolis of the Five Towns, and its Labour Church is
the most audacious and influential of all the local activities, half
secret, but relentlessly determined, whose aim is to establish the new
democratic heaven and the new democratic earth by means of a gradual and
bloodless revolution. Edward Beechinor uttered its abhorred name with a
bitter and scornful hatred characteristic of the Toryism of a man who,
having climbed high up out of the crowd, fiercely resents any widening
or smoothing of the difficult path which he himself has conquered.

'They've asked me to take the post,' Mark answered.

'What's the wages?' the older man asked, with exasperated sarcasm.

'Nothing.'

'Mark, lad,' the other said, softening, 'I'm worth seven hundred pounds
and this freehold house. What dost think o' that?'

Even in that moment, with the world and its riches slipping away from
his dying grasp, the contemplation of this great achievement of thrift
filled Edward Beechinor with a sublime satisfaction. That sum of seven