"Will you have anything, Charles? No? Then let us start! It is
getting late. You are driving yourself?"
He threw open the door for her with a deep bow. "I always drive myself,
_Juliette_, and--I always get there," he said.
Her faint laugh floated back to Dick as he followed them out.
CHAPTER VII
FLIGHT
It was a dumb and sullen crowd that Dick Green faced that night in the
great barn on the slope of High Shale.
A rough platform had been erected at one end of the place and this, with
the deal table and lamp and one or two chairs, was all that went to the
furnishing of his assembly-room. The men stood in a close crowd like
herded cattle, and the atmosphere of the place was heavy with the reek of
humanity and coarse tobacco-smoke. There was a door at each end, but the
night was still and dark and there was little air beyond the vague chill
of a creeping sea-mist.
Dick, entering at the door at the platform end of the building instead of
passing straight up through the crowd as was his custom, was aware of a
curious influence at work from the first moment--an influence adverse if
not directly hostile that reached him he knew not how.
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