And Juliet sang again and again, thrilling the rough crowd as Dick had
never thrilled them, choosing such old-world melodies as reach the hearts
of all. Saltash watched her with keen appreciation on his ugly face. He
was an accomplished musician himself. But Dick with his banjo, though
he responded unerringly to every shade of feeling in the beautiful voice,
never raised his head.
It was he who at last came forward and led Juliet back to her chair, but
by that time the temper of the men had completely changed. They shouted
good-humoured comments to him and bandied jokes among themselves. The
whole atmosphere of the place had altered. The heavy sullenness had
passed like a thunder-cloud, and Ashcott no longer smoked his pipe in the
doorway with an air of gloomy foreboding.
Dick laid aside his banjo and came to the front of the platform. There
was absolute confidence in his bearing, a vital strength that imparted a
mastery that yet was largely compounded of comradeship.
He began to speak without effort--as a man speaks to his friends.
"I have something to say to you chaps," he said, "and I hope you will
hear me out fairly, even though it may not be the sort of thing you like
to listen to.
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