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Updated: June 27, 2025
He contrasted Rachel with Mrs. Horrocleave, her complete antithesis, and at once felt very sorry for himself and very scornful of Mrs. Horrocleave, and melting with worshipful sympathy for Rachel. "Yer wife's in the yard," he whispered in a different tone. "My wife!" Louis was gravely alarmed; all his manner altered. "Hast told her anything of this?" "I should think I hadn't."
Up to the instant of beholding those bank-notes he had been convinced that his operations upon the petty-cash book would be entirely successful and that the immediate future of Horrocleave's was assured of tranquillity; he had been blandly certain that Horrocleave held no horrid suspicion against him, and that even if Horrocleave's pate did conceal a dark thought, it would be conjured at once away by the superficial reasonableness of the falsified accounts.
Horrocleave advanced his chin and clenched a fist. "Don't you go!" said he. "If ye did, ye might be brought back by the scruff o' the neck. You mark my words and come down to the works to-morrow morning to-morrow, ye understand!" He was breathing quickly. Then a malicious grin seemed to pass over his face as his glance rested for an instant on Louis' plasters.
Horrocleave know that Louis was sufficiently recovered to be able to go to the works at all? Louis came, rubbing his hands, which for an instant he warmed at the fire. He was elegantly dressed. The mere sight of him somehow thrilled Rachel. His deportment, his politeness, his charming good-nature were as striking as ever.
It was Rachel's voice, timid. "Come in, come in!" Horrocleave roared. She entered, blushing, excusing herself, glancing from one to the other, and by her spotless Easter finery emphasizing the squalor of the den. In a few minutes Horrocleave was saying to Rachel, rather apologetically "Louis and I are going to part company, Mrs. Fores. I can't keep him on. His wages are too high for me.
And now, as then, the mere sight of them filled him with a passionate conviction that without them he would be ruined. His tricks to destroy the suspicions of Horrocleave could not possibly be successful. Within twenty-four hours he might be in prison if he could not forthwith command a certain sum of money. And even possessing the money, he would still have an extremely difficult part to play.
"Oh, that!" said Horrocleave, as though nothing was farther from his mind than the peculiarity of his gait that morning. He bit his lip. "Slipped over something?" Louis suggested. "Aye!" said Horrocleave, somewhat less ominously, and began to open his letters.
She hesitated, and then, slightly confused, thought, "Perhaps I'd better go back to the archway and knock at the office door." In the inner office, among art-lustre ware, ink-stained wood, dusty papers, and dirt, Jim Horrocleave banged down a petty-cash book on to Louis' desk.
The recent Act of Parliament, making a crime of secret commissions to customers' employees, had been a blow to the trade in art-lustre ware, and it was no secret in the inner office that Horrocleave, resenting its interference with the natural course of business, had more than once discreetly flouted it, and thus technically transgressed the criminal law.
He looked through a dirt-obscured window and with unseeing gaze surveyed a muddy, littered quadrangle whose twilight was reddened by gleams from the engine-house. In this yard lay flat a sign that had been blown down from the façade of the manufactory six months before: "Horrocleave. Art Lustre Ware." Within the room was another sign, itself fashioned in lustre-ware: "Horrocleave.
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