Episode 4: Visit to the Rigleys

The clock struck eight and she rose suddenly, dropping her sewing on her chair. She went to the stairfoot door, opened it, listening. Then she went out, locking the door behind her.

Something scuffled in the yard, and she started, though she knew it was only the rats with which the place was overrun. The night was very dark. In the great bay of railway lines, bulked with trucks, there was no trace of light, only away back she could see a few yellow lamps at the pit-top, and the red smear of the burning pit-bank on the night. She hurried along the edge of the track, then, crossing the converging lines, came to the stile by the white gates, whence she emerged on the road. Then the fear which had led her shrank. People were walking up to New Brinsley ; she saw the lights in the houses; twenty yards further on were the broad windows of the "Prince of Wales," very warm and bright, and the loud voices of men could be heard distinctly. What a fool she had been to imagine that anything had happened to him ! He was merely drinking over there at the "Prince of Wales." She faltered. She had never yet been to fetch him, and she never would go. So she continued her walk towards the long straggling line of houses, standing blank on the highway. She entered a passage between the dwellings.

"Mr. Rigley ?--Yes ! Did you want him ? No, he's not in at this minute."

The raw-boned woman leaned forward from her dark scullery and peered at the other, upon whom fell a dim light through the blind of the kitchen window.

"Is it Mrs. Bates ?" she asked in a tone tinged with respect.

"Yes. I wondered if your Master was at home. Mine hasn't come yet."

"'Asn't 'e ! Oh, Jack's been 'ome an 'ad 'is dinner long since. E's just gone for 'alf an hour afore bedtime, but 'e won't be long. Did you call at the ' Prince of Wales'?"*
"No ---- "

"No, you didn't like ---- ! It's not very nice." The other woman was indulgent. There was an awkward pause. "Jack never said nothink about -- about your Mester,"* she said.

"No ! -- I expect he's stuck in there !"

Elizabeth Bates said this bitterly, and with recklessness. She knew that the woman across the yard was standing at her door listening, but she did not care. As she turned:

"Stop a minute ! I'll just go an' ask Jack if  'e knows anythink* ," said Mrs. Rigley.
"Oh, no--I wouldn't like to put ---- !"

"Yes, I will, if you'll just step inside an' see as th' childer doesn't come downstairs and set theirselves afire."*
Elizabeth Bates, murmuring a remonstrance, stepped inside. The other woman apologised for the state of the room.

The kitchen needed apology. There were little frocks and trousers and childish undergarments on the squab* and on the floor, and a litter of playthings everywhere. On the black American cloth* of the table were pieces of bread and cake, crusts, and a teapot with cold tea.

"Eh, ours is just as bad," said Elizabeth Bates, looking at the woman, not at the house. Mrs. Rigley put a shawl over her head and hurried out, saying :

"I shanna* be a minute."
The other sat, noting with faint disapproval the general untidiness of the room. Then she fell to counting the shoes of various sizes scattered over the floor. There were twelve. She sighed and said to herself, "No wonder !" -- glancing at the litter. There came the scratching of two pairs of feet on the yard, and the Rigleys entered. Elizabeth Bates rose. Rigley was a big man, with very large bones. His head looked particularly bony. Across his temple was a large blue scar, caused by a wound got in the pit, a wound in which the coal- dust remained blue like tattooing.

" 'Asna 'e come whoam yit? "* asked the man, without any form of greeting, but with a fine rough deference and sympathy. "I dunna think there's owt amiss -- 'e's non ower theer, though ! "* -- he jerked his head to signify the "Prince of Wales."
" E's 'appen gone up to th' ' Yew,' "* said Mrs. Rigley, as if trying to make the best of it.

"I bet that's wheer he is! " declared the husband.

There was another pause. Rigley had evidently something to get off his mind :

"Ah left 'im finishin' a stint* ," he began. " Loose-all* 'ad bin gone about ten minutes when we com'n away* , an' I shouted, 'Are ter comin'* , Walt ?' an' 'e said, 'Go on, Ah shanna be but a'ef a minnit,* ' so we com'n ter th' bottom* , me an' Bowers, thinkin' as 'e wor* just behint, an' 'ud come up i' th' next bantle* ---- "
He stood perplexed, as if answering a charge of deserting his mate. Elizabeth Bates, now again certain of disaster, hastened to reassure him:

"I expect 'e's gone up to th' 'Yew Tree,'* as you say. It's not the first time. I've fretted myself into a fever before now. He'll come home when they carry him."

"Ay, isn't it too bad !" deplored the other woman.

"I'll just step up to Dick's an' see if 'e is theer," offered the man, afraid of appearing alarmed, afraid of taking liberties.

"Oh, I wouldn't think of bothering you that far," said Elizabeth Bates, with emphasis, but he knew she was glad of his offer.

As they stumbled up the entry, Elizabeth Bates heard Rigley's wife run across the yard and open her neighbour's door. At this, suddenly all the blood in her body seemed to switch away from her heart.

"Mind !" warned Rigley. "Ah've said many a time as Ah'd fill up them ruts* in this entry, sumb'dy 'll be breakin' their legs yit."

She recovered herself and walked quickly along with the miner.

"I don't like leaving the children in bed, and nobody in the house," she said.

"No, you dunna !" he replied courteously. They were soon at the gate of the cottage.

"Well, I shanna be many minutes. Dunna thee be frettin'* now, 'e'll be all right," said the butty.

"Thank you very much, Mr. Rigley," she replied.

"It's a' right--dunna mention it--you  quite welcome !* " he stammered, moving away. "I shanna be many minnits."