Page 71
Pembroke, who had until then been studying the cue he held, cleared his throat.
“The government cannot permit labourers to dictate terms by refusing employment. If the stoppage spreads, troops will restore order.”
Baines took his shot. The ball dropped cleanly. “Troops cannot weave cloth.”
Pembroke looked at him. “That is hardly the point.”
“It may be to a manufacturer.”
Sir George smiled. “Careful, Major, you are beginning to sound reformist.”
“Never before dinner.”
“The whole thing will be finished in a week,” Cranford insisted.
“How?” Edward asked.
“The cavalry are waiting,” Pembroke said.
The room quieted slightly.
Baines rested his cue against the table. “Indeed? You seem remarkably well informed.”
“It is part of my duty to be informed.”
“A dangerous thing, duty,” Baines observed.
Pembroke gave him a thin smile. “Some of us maintain useful connections without making a profession of secrecy.”
Baines smiled pleasantly. “Do go on.”
Perhaps something in his tone ought to have warned Pembroke. He had the fatal confidence of a man who mistook possession of information for evidence of intelligence.
“The military is already positioned to deal with serious disturbances. The radicals may fancy themselves capable of paralyzing Scotland, but they would find armed rebellion a very different matter.”
Thomas looked interested. “Where are the regiments?”
Pembroke drew a breath.
Baines struck his next ball hard enough that it cracked sharply against the cushion.
Pembroke glanced towards him.
Baines smiled. “Your turn, Wycliffe.”
Sir George approached the table, but Thomas had not abandoned his question.
“Would cavalry be used again after Peterloo?”
“Against a mob?” Pembroke answered. “Assuredly.”
Baines watched while leaning on his cue.
Thomas leaned against the table. “How would cavalry even move through Glasgow streets?”
“They would not, if the commanders possessed sense. You secure the roads, bridges and approaches, then infantry controls the town,” Pembroke insisted.
Baines felt his patience thinning.
