The Rope Carrier by Theresa Tomlinson Page B

to hear.”
    â€œThe shepherd boy,” said Marianne. “The shepherd boy had lost his sheep . . .”
    So Minnie settled to the story that she’d told so many times, rocking gently to soothe the baby, and her own fearful self, glancing over at the woman in the corner who went about her task quiet and dry-eyed.

Chapter Fifteen
    THE FILESMITHS’ BENEFIT Society came to their aid once more and saved the mester from a pauper’s burial. It was all done with respect and decency, just as the Dame wished it. Josh wept over his files in the debtor’s jail with only Jack, who’d grown unusually quiet, to bear witness to his grief.
    Although none of them would say it, the old man’s death brought them some relief. The Dame was free to visit the jail and to do short spells of file cutting, all the while shouting to Minnie to wash the children and mix the brine and mash the tea.
    Netty was weak, but she began the slow stuggle back to strength and watched the tiny girl with wonder. Despite her size, the baby clung to life.
    â€œWill tha give her a name, Minnie?” Netty begged. “’Twere thy hands that held her first.”
    Minnie smiled with pleasure at being asked. She racked her brains, and thought of her grandmother, but then she thought of the poor mester who had just died.
    â€œCall her Joanna, after Joseph Eyre,” she said.
    The Dame took up her hand and pressed it.
    â€œI thank thee kindly for that,” she said.
    Minnie was back to the hated task of water carrying, dimly aware of something different in the city. There was little fighting now; quiet anger had taken its place. Minnie prayed for heavy rain, but she feared that what might come would be more like a storm of misery from folk who could bear no more.It was very early one morning when Nathan Woodhouse came knocking on their door. Jack had spied him first and come flying in to tell the Dame.
    â€œâ€™Tis Nathan come looking to call in his debt.”
    Nathan hammered on the door again, but the Dame hesitated to answer it. Minnie turned sick in her stomach, for she knew that there was no money to pay him.
    â€œShall us hide?” said Jack. “I don’t think he spied me.”
    â€œNay,” the Dame shook her head. “I’ll not hide from Nathan. He’s been a good friend.” She went to open the door.
    â€œWill tha come in, Nathan,” she said, polite as ever, though her cheeks were red with shame.
    Nathan came in, breathless and hurried.
    â€œDon’t tha fear, Dame Eyre,” he said. “’Tis not payment I’m after, at least it’s not payment in money I’m asking of thee.”
    â€œWhat then?” said the Dame, puzzled.
    â€œHelp is what we need. Thee’sens, as many folk as possible, to come out to Crookes Moor. We’re determined to set our’sens in the way of the Commissioners’ men. They have gone out this morning to fence off the common.”
    They all stared in silence at Nathan. Minnie had heard of folk doing such things, but they’d always seemed far away and unreal, like something that happened in a story.
    â€œTha need not fear for the little ’uns, Dame Eyre, for we are determined that ’twill all be done peaceable. ’Tis not a fight we’re for. If we come in numbers, no need for that. We shall have a fine outing with picnicking and singing and dancing. All we shall do is get in their way.”
    â€œI’ll go,” said Jack.
    â€œAye . . . tha’d be good at it,” the Dame said.
    â€œTha might think it’s not thy quarrel,” said Nathan, “but there’s many will be the worse for it. I’ll not be fetching milk into town if my goats cannot feed on the common land. What work I’d turn my hand to, I don’t know.”
    â€œAye, and we owe thee, Nathan, and have nowt to pay thee with.”
    â€œI’d be glad for this help to take the place of payment,