[inside the Higgins' house.  Margaret Hale and Bessy Higgins talking.]

Margaret Hale:  I cried when Fred left home.

[Margaret waving goodbye to Frederick. ...as he walks away in his Naval uniform, he tips his hat and gives his family a big smile]

Margaret Hale:  So did Mother, but he was desperate to go to sea, and Father thought it were the making of him. He left full of hope, but that was before he sailed with the captain. He was a monster. Once they set sail, the captain did, whatever he liked. He beat the children to within an inch of their lives.

Bessy Higgins:  But couldn' they do anythin'?

Margaret Hale:  They tried. Frederick and the others stood up to him. Some of them wanted to kill him. Eventually they put the captain and a few of his officers in a boat, and let it loose on the open sea. The Navy called it a mutiny, but Frederick really had no choice. He was branded the ringleader and called a traitor. Eventually the Navy printed a list of the mutineers.

[Mr. and Mrs. Hale are standing outside in the Helstone garden. Mrs. Hale reads the newspaper and then violently tears the paper into shreds before collapsing into tears. Mr. Hale tries to comfort his wife but is lost in his own thoughts and fears.]

Margaret Hale:  And Fred's name was among them. It nearly killed my parents.

[Mrs. Hale seen crying, Mr. Hale comforting her.]
[cut back to the Higgins' house, Margaret and Bessy]

Margaret Hale:   He was in South America for a few years. Now he lives in Spain, in Cádiz.

Bessy Higgins:  Spain! How romantic.

Margaret Hale:  Sometimes I think I'll never see him again.

Bessy Higgins:  But if i' could be told how he were put upon, how he defended others against that madman, surely the law would spare 'im?

Margaret Hale:  [shakes head] Some of the sailors were caught ... they pleaded their case.  Captain Reid was clearly insane, but they were hanged anyway. No, Frederick is safe in Spain, but if he comes home, he'll be condemned to death, I am sure.

Bessy Higgins:  [leans forward, takes Margaret's hand] I suppose you can take comfort that he was so brave ...and acted to spare those sailors weaker than himself.

Margaret Hale:  Yes, I do. But I confess that sometimes I wish he'd been more of a coward, if it meant that my mother might see him once more.

[ Living-room at the Thornton's house.  Mrs. Thornton and Fanny Thornton sitting at the table doing paperwork.  Fanny Thornton humming.  John Thornton enters left.]

John Thornton:  Preparations already?

Hannah Thornton:  If we are going to entertain, we must do it properly. [quietly, to John] You're not regrettin' th' invitations, are you?

John Thornton:   [in a low voice]  No, no. Spend what you want. May have to be the last dinner party we have for some time.  [louder]  So... who's on the list?

Hannah Thornton:  Slickson's, of course. Fosters. Browns will decline, but we must invite them all the same. Hales will come, I presume?

Fanny Thornton:  They are probably aware of th' very great advantage it would be to Mr Hale, to be introduced to people like the Fosters...

John Thornton:   [annoyed]  I am sure that motive would not influence them, Fanny.

[John Thornton walks away from the table and sits on a sofa, picking up a newspaper, ignoring her.]

Fanny Thornton:  How you seem to understand these Hales, John.  Do you really think they are so very different from any other people we meet?

Hannah Thornton:  He seems a worthy kind of man ... well, rather too simple for trade. She's a bit of a fine lady, with all her low spirits.  As for the daughter, she gives herself airs!  An' yet they're not rich, an' never have been.

[John Thornton's attention is diverted away from the newspaper, he is now listening to the conversation between his mother and sister]

Fanny Thornton:  And she's not accomplished, mother.  She can't play the piano ...

John Thornton:  Go on, Fanny. What else does she lack to bring'er up to your standard?

Hannah Thornton:  I heard Miss Hale say she could not play myself, John!  If you would let us alone, we would perhaps see her merits and like her.

Fanny Thornton:  I'm sure I never could.

[Fanny gets up, agitated, and sits down at a different table, picking up embroidery and starting to work.  John Thornton gives up on his paper, gets up and wanders across the room to his mother.]

John Thornton:  I wish you would try to like Miss Hale, mother.

Hannah Thornton:  Why? You've not formed an attachment to her, have you? Mind you, she'll never have you.
Aye, she once laughed in my face at the thought of it, I am sure she did.

John Thornton:  She would never have me.

Hannah Thornton:  She's too good of an opinion of herself to take ye. I should like to know where she'd find any one better.

John Thornton:  [looks down] You can both believe me then when I say this out of complete indifference to Miss Hale: Mr Hale is my friend, she's his only daughter. I wish you would both make an effort to befriend her.

Fanny Thornton:  Phf.... --I only wish I knew why you talked about her so much. I am tired of it.

John Thornton:   [angrily]  What would you like us to talk about? How about a strike for a more pleasant topic?

Fanny Thornton:  [stares at him, mouth hanging open in disbelief]

[At the Lyceum, crowds of mill workers standing around, Boucher among them.]

Nicholas Higgins:  Now! Now, listen! The men up at 'ampers have been told not to expect a rise.

[Men shouting, and shaking their fists.]

Nicholas Higgins:  How about Slickson's?

Worker 1:  Nothin' yet.

Worker 2:  Thornton will tell us Friday!

[Men shouting]

Nicholas Higgins:  So, what d'ye reckon?

Men:  Strike! Strike! Yeah, strike!

[Boucher, looking grave and concerned]

Nicholas Higgins:  I thought so. Now's the time. We will all stop our machines at the end of the day, Friday, ten minutes before time. And no-one, no-one will start them up!

Nicholas Higgins:  [pointing at someone in the crowd] What ye?

Worker 3:  What if Slickson decides to offer? Do anything to keep his mill working, a' advantage of others.

Nicholas Higgins:  Then you still come out. Remember: If we all refuse to work –we are the strong ones!

[men cheering]

Worker 4:  How long do you think, masters'll last out, if we're all together?

Nicholas Higgins:  A week. Two weeks at most!

Worker 5:  What if they sending for 'ands from Ireland?

Workers:  They wouldn't dare! --Thornton would! He'd die before being dictated on! --I'd take him down if he gives me half a chance! And every Irishman that takes away our wages!

[Men shouting. Boucher looking depressed.]

Nicholas Higgins:  No! Listen! No. No violence. Masters expect us t' behave like animals. We'll show them we are thinking men. We will not be out-thought! The only enemy of our strike is ourselves! Now, we must manage this strike well, not like five year' ago, when half of us wen' back to work before the others.

Workers:  Aye! Aye!

Nicholas Higgins:  That understood?

Workers:  Aye.

Nicholas Higgins:  That is it. We keep together. Friday evening it is!

Workers:  Friday! Yeah! Strike! Strike! Strike! Strike! Strike! [clapping]

[The Thornton's house.  John Thornton is in the living-room.]

Hannah Thornton:  Are the hands about to turn out?

John Thornton:  They're waiting for the moment I have to turn down their wage demands.

Hannah Thornton:  Are there many orders in hand?

John Thornton:  Of course, we know that well enough. The Americans are flooding the market. Our only chance is producing at a lower price and faster. But the faster we fill the orders, the longer it takes for us to be paid for them.

Hannah Thornton:  How much are we owed?

John Thornton:  The debts at the bank is nearly four hundred pound.

Hannah Thornton:  [sighs and sits down in a chair]

John Thornton:  The men are less patient. They barely made up pay since their last cut.

Hannah Thornton:  Why don't they listen? They think that by just putting their ignorant heads together, they'll get their way.

John Thornton:  Don't worry mother. It's a young industry, these problems will iron themselves out. We're not yet in a position of selling up.

Hannah Thornton:  Can't you get men from Ireland? Then you could get rid of the strikers. --I would. I'd teach them, that I was master and could employ who I like.

John Thornton:  Yes, I can. And I will, too, if the strike lasts. It'll be trouble and expense, but I will do it, rather than give in.

[Hannah Thornton nods, turns and takes a pile of cards from a nearby table]

Hannah Thornton:  If there's to be this extra expense I am sorry we are giving the dinner this year.

John Thornton:  We should go on as before. No more, no less. [gets up, walks past his mother, touching her shoulder]

[The Hale's house.  Margaret coming down the stairs carrying a gown on her arms]

Margaret Hale:  There, now, mother. Surely one of these would do for Thornton's? [walks into the living-room where Mrs Hale, Mr Hale and an unknown man wait]

Margaret Hale:  Excuse me.

Mr. Bell:  Ah! And this is Margaret, of course. You know the last time I saw you you were eight years old running around Helstone with your brother.

Margaret Hale:  Oh, Mr. Bell. Of course. [puts down the gowns] How do you do?

Mr. Bell:  Well, Hale, I thought then she would grow into a handsome young woman, but this goddess I'd never have imagined.

Mr. Hale:  Come, come, Bell, Margaret will not understand your humour.

Mr. Bell:  Oh! No offence, my dear.

Margaret Hale:  Of course not. I... –I am pleased you've come to visit at last.

Mr. Bell:  With all this talk of strike, I thought I'd better check with my banker whether I should sell up my property.

Margaret Hale:  Surely not. We're not even certain there'll be a strike, are we, father?

Mr. Hale:  Ah, I don't know. Seems to be that masters and workers will never see eye to eye.  In my teaching capacity, I meet many a working man. They have some dreadful tales .... and speak from the heart [Mr. Bell listening intently] ... and have arguments for the strike which appear to me to be entirely logical. You know they suffered a pay cut 5 years ago and have never got back to those wages. No, though the price of food goes up all the time. [Margaret Hale also listening intently] Then our friend Thornton comes to read and he answers my questions and puts the other side so eloquently... I truly don't know what to think.

Margaret Hale:  [with a slightly negative tone in her voice] I'm sure Mr. Thornton does put his own view very eloquently.  [Mr. Bell picking up on the tone in her voice]

Mr. Hale:  I'm surprised the Thornton's are having a dinner, with trouble looming.

Mr. Bell:  Oh, the Thornton's have an annual dinner on exactly the same date every year. Time nor tide stops for Mrs. Thornton's dinners. She does not turn back for any man.

Margaret Hale:  Now, that is very true.

Mr. Hale:  You know, Margaret's made friends amongst the workers.

Mr. Bell:  Really?  Extraordinary girl!

[Mill yard of Marlborough Mill, seen from first floor window, over the shoulders of Mrs. Thornton and John Thornton.]

Hannah Thornton:  You said no?

John Thornton:  They were expecting it.

[View from outside looking towards Hannah and John Thornton, looking grave.]

[Inside Marlborough Mill, machine hall. All the machines are running full tilt. Boucher looks around, then at the clock which reads 7:47 pm. The Foreman/gaffer looks at his pocket watch. The workers look around and continue to work. Boucher is knitting his brow. The clock now reads 7:50. Boucher and other workers cut the power to their looms and begin to leave the hall. The large flywheel, crank shafts and transmission belts all come to a standstill. ]

[Inside the Thornton's house, Hannah Thornton, lifts her head, listens, and then looks at the clock.]

[Back at Marlborough Mill, the workers are leaving.  Boucher exchanges a look with John Thornton, who is looking down upon them from the steps that lead to his office.  He is expressionless but standing tall.  Hannah Thornton watches them from the window.

[ The Hale's house.    Living-room, Margaret Hale sitting at the table, writing a letter]

Margaret Hale:   I am sorry to have taken so long to reply to your last letter, when you were asking which colour would suit the baby best.  I do so long to see him. [picks up light blue piece of cloth] I am sure he'll look splendid in whatever you choose.   I've been very busy.  It's strange, for the rest of Milton is not at work.