Page 37 of The Irish Gypsy
As Patrick and Jacquine rode together, herealized the vast scale of this plantation and became quitecovetous. Five thousand acres were planted in cotton, and eventhough the yield was only one bale per acre, it was almost 100percent profit because each crop provided seed for the next and thelabor was virtually free. The plantation was totallyself-sustaining. Vegetable crops covered many acres and these fedthe slaves as well as the big house. All the swampland wascultivated in rice. The land had an intricate drainage system thattook off the water, stored it and returned it to the rows of greenshoots as required. He immediately thought of Ireland and knew thatwith such a system, successful crops could be produced from theblack, sodden soil.
He thought:If only I could transplantthis whole place to Ireland--without the black slaves of course--itwould be paradise on earth.
At the farthest point from the house theykept livestock, hogs, chickens and turkeys, which provided the meatfor the plantation. He watched Jacquine from the corner of his eye.She guided her horse with an iron hand and clearly enjoyed thefeeling of power the large animal gave her. He knew in that momentthat all this could be his. If he asked her to marry him, he wouldbe master of all he surveyed.
Whenever he saw Topaz, she gave him a shysmile and hurried away before the mistress could catch her. Patrickstayed a week and at the end of this time he was thoroughly satedwith Jacquine and his nightly jousts. Her animal magnetism hadensnared him in the beginning, but the excesses began to jade hispalate and the fascination was beginning to wear thin.
At breakfast one morning he told her flatlythat although he had enjoyed her hospitality, he had businessawaiting him in New York that he dared delay no longer.
"Well, Patrick, you know when my period ofmourning is up. Will you return by then?" she asked.
"I promise you, Jacquine, that I shall returnby then. I shall want your next year's crop, and perhaps otherthings, by then."
They understood each other completely. Heknew what she was offering, and she was being generous enough togive him ample time to consider whether he would accept or rejectit. In truth, at that moment, Patrick did not know what hisdecision would be.
He drove back to Charleston, and the shipsailed up the coast and into New York Harbor. He had come to see ifit was feasible to start up branches of successful Englishcompanies. James Leaver wanted to start manufacturing his soap inAmerica, and Patrick was on the board of directors of two othercompanies that had their eyes on America. New York was a thrivingcity. A new word had just been coined--'millionaire'--and Patrickthought it would be no bad thing to be. Fortunes were to be made inbanking and railroads and gold mines. It was indeed a land ofopportunities and he was determined to seize them all.
Chapter 11
Patrick was away eight months before hereturned to England, and before he left Liverpool he sunk moremoney into another merchant vessel that he would fill with exportsand sell at handsome profits. By the time he arrived in London,Julia had produced her first child and was determined not to haveany more for a while. Barbara was beside herself with joy at thesight of her brother and asked to go home to Bolton with him. Thecotton from Bagatelle would have arrived by now anyway, and he wasanxious to see the quality of the goods it would produce.
Back in Bolton, his lawyer told him of twonew low offers on the Falcon and advised Patrick not to sell.Determined to find out what was wrong at the Falcon, he decided tohave a talk with his manager and go over the books. When Patrickgot there he called a meeting of the manager, the foreman and theoverseers and asked for their reports. Production was down, therewas discord between the workers and the bosses, and Patrick wantedanswers. At first they seemed to walk on eggs with him; finallysomeone with guts spoke up.
"Well, I'll call a spade a spade, if none ofthe rest of you will! We've had some accidents recently and theplace has a bad reputation. It's been nicknamed 'Cripples Factory',if you want to know the truth."
Patrick listened intently. "You mean themachines are old and unsafe?" They all nodded grimly. Patrick knewhe was guilty of the things he had accused his father of. He hadput back no money into improvements since he had taken over almosttwo years ago. Commerce without morality was a deadly sin and itwould have to be corrected without delay.
Kitty had had no breakfast that morning. Sheset her machines in motion automatically. She was lightheaded, butit was a feeling that always seemed to be with her. Her face hadtaken on a resigned look and she feared that the mill would proveto be a lifetime sentence with no escape. It all happened in aninstant. She squeezed past a machine facing it, rather than puttingher back toward it. The great leather belt caught hold of heroverall and flung her up into the air, with the material catchingon the great cog wheel. She screamed wildly. The fact that thecotton dress had been washed so many times saved her life. Thethin, almost rotten overall ripped clean down the front and herlimp, unconscious body fell to the oily floor. The accident sirensounded and the hair on the nape of Patrick's neck stood on end. Heran from the office toward the spinning room where the commotionwas coming from. He elbowed his way through the crowd of girls andlooked down at the crumpled figure that seemed too small to be ahuman being. It was a minute before recognition hit him.
"Kitty, my God!"
The impact was like a blow to his solarplexus. The room was so hot and humid he could hardly breathe andsweat broke out on his face. He looked down at the stripped cottondress and suddenly to his horror he was back on the plantation andKitty was just as much a cotton slave as those black people hadbeen. He picked her up tenderly and carried her to the office.
"I'll run for the doctor, Mr. O'Reilly. Layher down here," the foreman said.
"No, no. I'd rather you drove me home. Idon't want a doctor from around here." He was alarmed at her waxenpallor. He quickly lifted her, took her to the carriage and gentlylaid her against the squabs, keeping hold of her hands and chafingthem clumsily. Kitty regained consciousness twice in the carriage,but her eyes only flickered open momentarily without focusing, thenclosed again as she lapsed back into unconsciousness.
He flung open the front door and called,"Barbara, Mrs. Thomson, come quickly."
"What is it? Oh, Patrick, you've found her!"cried Barbara.
"She's hurt badly, I fear. Mrs. Thomson, isJulia's room made up?"
"Of course, sir. Where did you find the poorlittle lamb?"
He was white, his mouth a grim line, and hiseyes terrible to behold. "I found her working at the mill. Therewas an accident. I've no idea how badly she's hurt. Stay with herwhile I get the doctor. I hate to leave her, but that's the fastestway to get help. Pull back the covers, Barbara. Keep her warm anddon't leave her for a second."
He was back within fifteen minutes. Thedoctor said, "Help me disrobe her so I can see how much damageshe's sustained."
"No! Barbara, help Mrs. Thomson undress her,and for God's sake be gentle." He looked apologetically at thedoctor and said, "She's frightened of men."
"Indeed?" he said dryly. "Then I will ask youto leave the room until I complete my examination."
Reluctantly, Patrick left and closed the doorbehind him, but stood on the landing outside the door in a state ofmiserable anxiety. Twenty minutes later, the doctor came out.
"She's been in an industrial accident at yourmill, hasn't she?"
"How did you know?"
