Chapter 11

WORK IN THE FACTORY

When she reached the road a loud whistle was heard, shrill and powerful. Almost immediately other whistles replied from the distance. This was the call for the factory hands who lived in Maraucourt, and the other whistles repeated the summons to work from village to village, St. Pipoy, Harcheux, Racour, Flexelles, in all the Paindavoine factories, announcing to the owner of the vast works that everywhere, at the same time, his factories were calling to his employes to be ready for the day's work.

Fearing she might be late she ran as far as the village. There she found all the doors of the houses open. On the thresholds the men were eating their soups or leaning against the walls; others were in the cabarets drinking wine; others were washing at the pump in the yard. No one seemed to be going to work, so evidently it was not time yet, so Perrine thought that there was no occasion for her to hurry.

But before long a louder whistle was blown, and then there was a general movement everywhere; from houses, yards and taverns came a dense crowd, filling the street. Men, women and children went towards the factories, some smoking their pipes, others munching a crust of bread, the greater number chattering loudly. In one of the groups Perrine caught sight of Rosalie in company with La Noyelle. She joined them.

"Why, where have you been?" asked Rosalie in surprise.

"I got up early so as to take a walk," Perrine replied.

"You did? I went to look for you."

"Oh, thank you; but never do that, for I get up very early," said Perrine.

Upon arriving at the factory the crowd went into the various workshops under the watchful eye of a tall thin man who stood near the iron gates, his hand in the pocket of his coat, his straw hat stuck on the back of his head. His sharp eyes scanned everyone who passed.

"That's Skinny," informed Rosalie in a whisper.

Perrine did not need to be told this. She seemed to know at once that this was the foreman Talouel.

"Do I come in with you?" asked Perrine.

"Sure!"

This was a decisive moment for little Perrine, but she controlled her nervousness and drew herself up to her full height. Why should they not take her if they took everyone?

Rosalie drew Perrine out of the crowd, then went up to Talouel.

"Monsieur," she said, "here's a friend of mine who wants a job."

Talouel glanced sharply at the friend.

"In a moment ... we'll see," he replied curtly.

Rosalie, who knew what to do, signed to Perrine to stand aside and wait. At this moment there was a slight commotion at the gates, and the crowd drew aside respectfully to allow Monsieur Paindavoine's carriage to pass. The same young man who had driven him the evening before was now driving. Although everyone knew that their chief, Vulfran Paindavoine, was blind, all the men took off their hats as he passed and the women curtseyed.

"You see he's not the last one to come," said Rosalie, as the phaeton passed through the gates, "but his nephews likely will be late."

The clock struck, then a few late comers came running up. A young man came hurrying along, arranging his tie as he ran.

"Good morning, Talouel," he said; "is uncle here yet?"

"Yes, Monsieur Theodore," said the foreman, "he got here a good five minutes ago."

"Oh!"

"You're not the last, though. Monsieur Casimir is late also. I can see him coming now."

As Theodore went towards the offices his cousin Casimir came up hurriedly.

The two cousins were not at all alike, either in their looks or ways. Casimir gave the foreman a short nod, but did not say a word.

"What can your friend do?" asked Talouel, turning to Rosalie, his hands still in his pockets.

Perrine herself replied to this question.

"I have not worked in a factory before," she said in a voice that she tried to control.

Talouel gave her a sharp look, then turned again to Rosalie.

"Tell Oneux to put her with the trucks. Now be off. Hurry up!"

Thus dismissed, Rosalie hurried Perrine away.

"What are the trucks?" asked little Perrine as she followed her friend through the big courtyard. She wondered, poor child, if she had the strength and the intelligence to do what was required of her.

"Oh, it's easy enough," replied Rosalie, lightly. "Don't be afraid; you've only got to load the trucks."

"Oh!..."

"And when it's full," continued Rosalie, "you push it along to the place where they empty it. You give a good shove to begin with, then it'll go all alone."

As they passed down the corridors they could scarcely hear each other speak for the noise of the machinery. Rosalie pushed open the door of one of the workshops and took Perrine into a long room. There was a deafening roar from the thousand tiny machines, yet above the noise they could hear a man calling out: "Ah, there you are, you loafer!"

"Who's a loafer, pray?" retorted Rosalie. "That ain't me, just understand that, Father Ninepins."

"What have you been doin'?"

"Skinny told me to bring my friend to you to work on the trucks."

The one whom she had addressed in this amiable manner was an old man with a wooden leg. He had lost his leg in the factory twelve years previous, hence his nickname, "Ninepins." He now had charge of a number of girls whom he treated rudely, shouting and swearing at them. The working of these machines needed as much attention of the eye as deftness of hand in lifting up the full spools and replacing them with empty ones, and fastening the broken thread. He was convinced that if he did not shout and swear at them incessantly, emphasizing each curse with a stout bang of his wooden leg on the floor, he would see his machines stop, which to him was intolerable. But as he was a good man at heart, no one paid much attention to him, and besides, the greater part of his cursing was lost in the noise of the machinery.

"Yes, and with it all, your machine has stopped," cried Rosalie triumphantly, shaking her fist at him.

"Go on with you," he shouted back; "that ain't my fault."

"What's your name?" he added, addressing Perrine.

This request, which she ought to have foreseen, for only the night before Rosalie had asked the same question, made her start. As she did not wish to give her real name, she stood hesitating. Old Ninepins thought that she had not heard, and banging his wooden leg on the floor again, he cried:

"I asked you what your name was, didn't I? Eh?"

She had time to collect herself and to recall the one that she had already given to Rosalie.

"Aurelie," she said.

"Aurelie what?" he demanded.

"That is all ... just Aurelie," she replied.

"All right, Aurelie; come on with me," he said.

He took her to a small truck stationed in a far corner and explained what she had to do, the same as Rosalie had.

"Do you understand?" he shouted several times.

She nodded.

And really what she had to do was so simple that she would indeed have been stupid if she had been unable to do it. She gave all her attention to the task, but every now and again old Ninepins called after her:

"Now, don't play on the way." But this was more to warn than to scold her.

She had no thought of playing, but as she pushed her truck with a good regular speed, while not stopping, she was able to see what was going on on the way. One push started the truck, and all she had to do was to see that there were no obstacles in its way.

At luncheon time each girl hurried to her home. Perrine went to the baker's and got the baker to cut her a half a pound of bread, which she ate as she walked the streets, smelling the while the good odor of the soup which came from the open doors before which she passed. She walked slowly when she smelled a soup that she liked. She was rather hungry, and a half a pound of bread is not much, so it disappeared quickly.

Long before the time for her to go back to work she was at the gates. She sat down on a bench in the shade of a tree and waited for the whistle, watching the boys and girls playing, running and jumping. She was too timid to join in their games, although she would like to have done so.

When Rosalie came she went back to her work with her.

Before the day was ended she was so tired that she did indeed merit Ninepins' sharp rebuke.

"Go on! Can't you go faster than that?" he cried.

Startled by the bang from his wooden leg which accompanied his words, she stepped out like a horse under the lash of a whip, but only to slow up the moment she was out of his sight. Her shoulders ached, her arms ached, her head ached. At first it had seemed so easy to push the truck, but to have to keep at it all day was too much for her. All she wanted now was for the day to end. Why could she not do as much as the others? Some of them were not so old as she, and yet they did not appear tired. Perhaps when she was accustomed to the work she would not feel so exhausted.

She reasoned thus as she wearily pushed her loaded truck, glancing at the others with envy as they briskly went on with their work. Suddenly she saw Rosalie, who was fastening some threads, fall down beside the girl who was next to her. At the same time a girlish cry of anguish was heard.

The machinery was stopped at once. All was silent now, the silence only broken by a moan. Boys and girls, in fact everyone, hurried towards Rosalie, despite the sharp words from old Ninepins. "Thunder in Heaven, the machines have stopped. What's the matter?" he cried.

The girls crowded around Rosalie and lifted her to her feet.

"What's the matter?" they asked.

"It's my hand," she murmured; "I caught it in the machine. Oh!..."

Her face was very pale, her lips bloodless. Drops of blood were falling from her crushed hand. But upon examining it, it was found that only two fingers were hurt, one probably broken.

Ninepins, who at first had felt pity for the girl, now began pushing those who surrounded her back to their places.

"Be off; go back to your work," he cried. "A lot of fuss about nothing."

"Yes; it was a lot of fuss for nothing when you broke your leg, wasn't it?" cried out a voice.

He glanced about to see who had spoken, but it was impossible to find out in the crowd. Then he shouted again:

"Get back to your work. Hurry up!"

Slowly they dispersed and Perrine, like the others, was on her way back to her truck, when Ninepins called to her:

"Here, you new one, there; come here! Come on, quicker than that."

She came back timidly, wondering why she was more guilty than the others who had also left their work. But she found that he did not wish to punish her.

"Take that young fool there to the foreman," he said.

"What do you call me a fool for?" cried Rosalie, raising her voice, for already the machines were in motion. "It wasn't my fault, was it?"

"Sure, it was your fault, clumsy." Then he added in a softer tone:

"Does it hurt?"

"Not so very much," replied Rosalie bravely.

"Well, go on home; be off now."

Rosalie and Perrine went out together, Rosalie holding her wounded hand, which was the left, in her right hand.

"Won't you lean on me, Rosalie?" asked little Perrine anxiously. "I am sure it must be dreadful."

"No, I'm all right; thank you," said Rosalie. "At least I can walk."

"Well, then, it isn't much then, is it?" asked Perrine.

"One can't tell the first day. It's later that one suffers. I slipped, that's how it happened."

"You must have been getting tired," said Perrine, thinking of her own feelings.

"Sure, it's always when one is tired that one is caught," said Rosalie. "We are quick and sharp first thing in the morning. I wonder what Aunt Zenobie will say!"

"But it wasn't your fault," insisted Perrine.

"I know that," said Rosalie, ruefully. "Grandmother will believe that, but Aunt Zenobie won't. She'll say it's 'cause I don't want to work."

On their way through the building several men stopped them to ask what was the matter. Some pitied Rosalie, but most of them listened indifferently, as though they were used to such accidents. They said that it was always so: one gets hurt the same as one falls sick; just a matter of chance, each in his turn, you today, and me tomorrow. But there were some who showed anger that such an accident could have occurred.

They came to a small outside building which was used for offices. They had to mount some wide steps which led to a porch. Talouel was standing on the porch, walking up and down with his hands in his pockets, his hat on his head. He seemed to be taking a general survey, like a captain on the bridge.

"What's the matter now?" he cried, angrily, when he saw the two girls.

Rosalie showed him her bleeding hand.

"Wrap your paw up in your handkerchief then," he said, roughly.

With Perrine's aid she got her handkerchief out of her pocket. Talouel strode up and down the porch. After the handkerchief had been twisted around the wounded hand he came over to poor Rosalie and stood towering above her.

"Empty your pockets," he ordered. She looked at him, not understanding.

"I say, take everything out of your pockets," he said again.

She did what she was told, and drew from her pockets an assortment of things--a whistle made from a nut, some bones, a thimble, a stick of liquorice, three cents, and a little mirror.

The bully at once seized the mirror.

"Ah, I was sure of it," he cried. "While you were looking at yourself in the glass a thread broke and your spool stopped. You tried to catch the time lost and that's how it happened."

"I did not look in my glass," said Rosalie.

"Bah! you're all the same. I know you. Now: what's the trouble?"

"I don't know, but my hand is crushed," said poor Rosalie, trying to keep back her tears.

"Well, and what do you want me to do?"

"Father Ninepins told me to come to you," said Rosalie.

"And you ... what's the matter with you?" he asked, turning to Perrine.

"Nothing," she replied, disconcerted.

"Well?"

"Father Ninepins told her to bring me here," said Rosalie.

"Well, she can take you to Dr. Ruchon and let him see it. But I'm going to look into this matter and find out if it is your fault, and if it is ... look out!"

He spoke in a loud, bullying voice which could be heard throughout the offices.

As the two girls were about to go M. Vulfran Paindavoine appeared, guiding himself with his hand along the wall.

"What's it all about, Talouel? What's the matter here?"

"Nothing much, sir," replied the foreman. "One of the girls has hurt her hand."

"Where is she?"

"Here I am, Monsieur Vulfran," said Rosalie, going up to him.

"Why, it's Mother Francoise's granddaughter, Rosalie, isn't it?" asked the blind man.

"Yes, it's me, Monsieur Vulfran," said Rosalie, beginning to cry. Harsh words had hardened her heart, but this tone of pity was too much for poor Rosalie.

"What is the matter with your hand, my poor girl?" asked the blind man.

"Oh, sir, I think my two fingers are broken," she said, "although I am not in much pain."

"Well, why are you crying?" asked M. Vulfran, tenderly.

"Because you speak so kindly to me."

Talouel shrugged his shoulders.

"Now go home at once," said M. Vulfran, "and I'll send the doctor to you."

"Write a note to Dr. Ruchon," he said, turning to Talouel, "and tell him to call at Mother Francoise's house; say that the matter is urgent and he must go there at once."

"Do you want anyone to go with you?" he asked, addressing Rosalie.

"Oh, thank you, Monsieur Vulfran; I have a friend here with me," she replied.

"She can go with you then, and tell your grandmother that you will be paid while you are away."

It was Perrine now who felt like crying, but catching Talouel's glance, she stiffened. It was not until they had passed out of the yard that she betrayed her emotion.

"Isn't Monsieur Vulfran kind?" she said.

"Yes," replied Rosalie; "he would be all right if he were alone, but with Skinny he can't be; he hasn't the time and he has a lot to think about."

"Well, he seemed very kind to you," said little Perrine.

"Oh, yes," Rosalie said, drawing herself up; "I make him think of his son. My mother was Monsieur Edmond's foster sister."

"Does he think of his son?"

"He thinks of nothing else."

Everybody came to their doors as Rosalie and Perrine passed. Rosalie's handkerchief was covered with blood. Most of the people were merely curious, others felt sorry, others were angry, knowing that what had happened to this girl that day might happen the next day, at any moment, to their fathers, husbands, and children. Was not everyone in Maraucourt employed at the factory?

"You come on in with me," said Rosalie, when they reached the house; "then perhaps Aunt Zenobie won't say much."

But Perrine's presence had no effect upon the terrible aunt. Seeing Rosalie arrive at such an unusual hour, and noticing that her hand was wrapped up, she cried out shrilly: "Now, then, you've gone and hurt yourself, you lazy bones. I bet you did it on purpose."

"Oh, I'm goin' to be paid," retorted Rosalie, scornfully.

"You think so, do you?"

"Monsieur Vulfran told me that I should."

But this information did not appease Aunt Zenobie. She continued to scold until Mother Francoise, leaving her store, came to see what was the matter. But the old grandmother, instead of showing anger, put her arms about Rosalie and said: "Oh, my dearie; you've gone and got hurt."

"Just a little, grandmother ... it's my fingers ... but it ain't much."

"We must have Dr. Ruchon."

"Monsieur Vulfran is going to send him here."

Perrine was about to follow them into the house when Aunt Zenobie turned upon her and stopped her.

"What are you coming for?" she asked. "Do you think we need you to look after her?"

"Thank you for coming," called out Rosalie to Perrine.

Perrine had nothing to do but to return to the factory, which she did. But just as she reached the gates a whistle announced that it was closing time.