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The flat steel flashed again in the sunlight, but fell harmlessly, and before the blow could be repeated, Richard had knitted his fingers in Torrini's neckerchief and twisted it so tightly that the man gasped. Holding him by this, Richard dragged Torrini across the yard, and let him drop on the sidewalk outside the gate, where he lay in a heap, inert.
"After the accident at the mill and the conviction that he was not to recover, Torrini's conscience began to prick him. When he reflected on Miss Slocum's kindness to his family during the strike, when he now saw her saving his wife and children from absolute starvation, he was nearly ready to break the oath with which he had bound himself to William Durgin.
The Marble Workers' Association ruins my yard for me, and now my daughter is taken off my hands. By the way, Richard," he said, interrupting himself brusquely, and with an air of dismissing the subject, "I forgot what I came for. I've been thinking over Torrini's case, and have concluded that you had better make up his account and discharge him."
"I think his legs is shut off from the rest of his body by water-tight compartments," remarked Denyven, regarding Torrini's steady gait with mingled amusement and envy. "Are you hurt, sir?" "Only a bit of a scratch of the heye," replied Richard, with a laugh. "As I hobserved just now to Mr. Stevens, sir, there's a pair of us!"
But Torrini's influence on the men in the yard, especially on the younger hands, who needed quite other influences, and his intemperate speeches at the trades-union, where he had recently gained a kind of ascendancy by his daring, were producing the worst effects.
Nightly meetings took place at Grimsey's Hall, and the audiences were good-humored and orderly. Torrini advanced some Utopian theories touching a universal distribution of wealth, which were listened to attentively, but failed to produce deep impression. "That's a healthy idea of Torrini's about dervidin' up property," said Jemmy Willson.
A better man than Torrini would have spent some of it," added Father O'Meara, waving a sort of benediction in the direction of the bed. Richard did not speak for a moment or two. The wretchedness and grimness of it all smote him to the heart. When he looked up Mr. Taggett was gone, and the priest was gently drawing the coverlet over Torrini's face.
The figure of Father O'Meara slowly rising from a kneeling posture at the bedside was the first object that met their eyes; the second was Torrini's placid face, turned a little on the pillow; the third was Brigida sitting at the foot of the bed, motionless, with her arms wrapped in her apron. "He is dead," said the priest softly, advancing a step towards Richard. "You are too late.
I wish to stop at my boarding-house on the way to Torrini's; it will not be out of our course." Mr. Taggett gave silent acquiescence to this. Richard opened the scullery door, and the two passed into the court. Neither spoke until they reached Lime Street. Mrs. Spooner herself answered Richard's ring, for he had purposely dispensed with the use of his pass-key. "I wanted to see you a moment, Mrs.
"But Slocum's Yard can," said Richard, irritated to observe the influence Torrini exerted on even such men as Denyven. "That's between you and him, sir, of course, but" "But what?" "Well, isr, I can't say hexactly; but if I was you I would bide a bit." "No, I think Torrini's time has come." "I don't make bold to advise you, sir. I merely throws out the hobservation."
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