With Marlborough to Malplaquet | Page 5

man to whose rescue he
had come.
"Why," returned Jack, "they are some of Blackett's men. They tried to
shove us from our berth here, after we had made fast, and bring in their

big schooner over there. Some of 'em are vexed, 'cos 'tis said there'll be
no work for 'em soon. Your father's taking a lot of Blackett's trade, you
see."
"Did they begin, Jack, or did you?"
"Begin? Why, it was a kind of mixed-up job, I reckon. We'd both had a
drop of Christmas ale, you see--a drop extra, I mean--and--why, there it
was."
"Well, you'll be sailing for London in a day or two," said George. "See
that you keep out of the way of Blackett's men, or you'll find yourself
in the lock-up and lose your place."
Then he walked away.
Mr. Fairburn was annoyed when he heard of the incident.
"I don't like it, George," he said. "There's no reason why there should
be bad blood between Blackett's men and mine; but if they are going to
make disturbances like this I shall have to take serious steps, and the
coolness between Blackett and me will become an open enmity. 'As
much as lieth in _you_,' says the Apostle, 'live peaceably with all men;'
but there's a limit, and if Mr. Blackett can't keep his men in order, it
will come to a fight between us."
The brig started in a couple of days for London, in fulfilment of an
important contract that had for years fallen to Mr. Blackett, but now
had been placed in the hands of his humbler but more energetic rival.
Its departure was hailed by the shouts and threats of a gang of pitmen
from the Blackett colliery, but nothing like another fight occurred,
thanks to the vigilance of Fairburn the elder.

CHAPTER II
THE ATTACK ON THE COLLIERY

Not often has Europe been in a greater state of unrest than it was at the
time this story opens. James II, the exiled King of England, had lately
died in his French home, and his son, afterwards famous as the Old
Pretender, had been acknowledged as the new English king by Louis
XIV of France, to the joy of the many Jacobites England still contained,
but to the dismay of the majority of Englishmen. There was likely to be
dire trouble also respecting the vacant throne of Spain. There had been
originally three candidates for the throne of the weakling Charles, not
long dead--Philip of Anjou, whose claims had the powerful support of
his grandfather, the ambitious Louis; Charles, the second son of the
Emperor Leopold of Austria; and Joseph, the Electoral Prince of
Bavaria. But the last mentioned had died, leaving the contest to Philip
and Charles, the French and Austrian claimants. The rest of Europe was
naturally in alarm when the already too-powerful Louis actually placed
his grandson on the Spanish throne. Practically the step amounted on
the part of France to an annexation of the once predominant kingdom
of Spain with all its appanages. And when the Grand Monarque, as his
flatterers called him, proceeded further to garrison the strongholds of
the Netherlands, then a Spanish province, with his own troops, it was
clear that Louis considered himself King both of France and Spain. As
for the Protestants of Europe, their very existence seemed to be
threatened by the designs of the French sovereign.
Who was there, then, to withstand the ambitious and arrogant Louis?
There was but one great and effective opponent, William of Orange,
King of England. He had spent his life in thwarting the ambitious
policy of the French monarch, and so long as William lived Louis was
sure of a vigorous and powerful antagonist. And William was preparing,
in both his English and his Dutch dominions, for yet another conflict.
War was indeed imminent; the sole question being when it would
actually break out, and who would be ruler over England when it did.
For William III was in feeble health; his death might occur any day,
and his crown pass to his sister-in-law Anne. Such was the condition of
affairs at the time George Fairburn left St. Peter's School at York.
January brought many new orders for the Fairburn pit, and the owner
had work for more men. So greatly was his business increasing, that the

proprietor of the little colliery came to a decision that seemed likely to
affect his son's whole future life.
"What would you like to be, my lad?" he one day inquired abruptly.
"A soldier, dad," was the prompt reply, the boy regarding his father in
some wonderment, nevertheless.
"A soldier, says the lad!" Fairburn exclaimed, no less surprised by the
answer than George had been by the question. "It is the most detestable
of all trades,