[Margaret walks through the eerily silent streets of Milton approaching the imposing dark green gates of Marlborough Mills, which are unnaturally closed.  Her footsteps echo loudly.  She rings the bell at the gate and takes a look around her at the quiet and empty streets.  The gate opens and the mill overseer utters a sigh of relief at the sight of her.]

Mill Overseer:    Oh, it’s you, miss. [with a nod of his head he ushers her inside the gate and closes it behind them.]

Mill Overseer:   Did you see anyone in the street?

[The two of them walk towards the Thornton house as they talk.]

Margaret Hale:    No.  That’s very odd, isn’t it?  Where is everyone?

Mill Overseer:   I think we’ll know soon enough. Best get inside the house, miss, and bolt the door behind you.

[The mill overseer leaves Margaret to take herself to the house. Margaret looks up to the mill windows to see the frightened faces of the Irish workers. We see the empty mill yard as she walks up to the house.]

[Many noisy feet and voices are seen and heard running down the steps. We then see John Thornton locking the mill door from the outside. More running feet and angry voices…]

[Inside the Thornton house.   Margaret is waiting in the sitting room with Fanny.]

Fanny Thornton:   Mamma will be here in a moment Miss Hale.  She asked me to apologize.

Margaret:   Did I see faces in the mill?

Fanny:    My brother has imported hands from Ireland.  They’re huddled up in the top room.

Margaret:   What are they doing there?

Fanny:  They’re frightened.  The strikers have frightened them so that they don’t dare work and we don’t dare let them out.

Margaret:   Poor wretches.

Fanny:   Mamma is seeing to their food and Johnny is trying to calm them down.  Some of the women are wailing and begging to go back home.  Ah, here’s Mamma.

Margaret:   Excuse me, Mrs. Thornton, I’m sorry to bother you at such a time.  My mother…Fanny mentioned you had a water mattress that we might borrow?

[Hannah Thornton looks preoccupied and has only half-heard what Margaret has been saying.  She looks out the window as Margaret continues.]

Margaret:   I am sorry, I thought…

[The strikers have reached the mill gates and are angrily banging against them.   Margaret rushes to the window to see what the noise is.  John Thornton is running through the mill yard towards the house, and gives a backward glance towards the gates. Margaret’s looks out of the window upset and confused.  The rioting strikers are getting louder, yelling taunts at Thornton.]

Boucher:  [half-climbing the gate and yelling through it]  Thornton!!  Thornton!!

[John Thornton reaches the house and enters. The angry mob is growing all the time in ferocity, pushing vigorously against the gates.]

Mob Voices:  Push it down!!

Fanny:   [frantic]  They’re coming!  They’re coming!  They’ll kill us all!

Hannah Thornton:   Shhhh!!  [trying to calm down a hyperventilating Fanny]

Thornton:  [entering the room]  Keep her here at the back of the house mother.

Hannah:   How soon can the soldiers be here?

[John Thornton looks down at his watch and back up at his mother.  They understand the look between them, and Fanny seems to as well as she becomes more frantic and crumples to the floor while her mother tries to hold on to her.]

Thornton:  Try to stop her panicking.

Hannah:   Miss Hale!

[Thornton rushes out of the room to find Margaret.  The mob is banging vehemently at the gates. John reaches Margaret who has been staring out the window at the unfolding scene.]

Thornton:   [slightly breathless] Miss Hale, I am sorry you have visited us at this unfortunate moment.

[The crowd’s angry banging has succeeded and the gates give way to their force.  The men and women run into the courtyard yelling and screaming.]

Mob Voices:   They’re in there somewhere! Go on! Go on, lads!  We’ll find ‘em!  It’s not right!  I’ve a family to feed!  Get the Irish out!!

Thornton:   [at the window with Margaret, viewing the courtyard]  Oh, my God!   They’re going for the mill door!

[Several members of the angry mob are banging at the mill door.]

Mob Voices:   Get the Irish Out!!

Margaret:   [back at the window, looking out]  Oh, no! It’s Boucher!

[The rioting strikers have gathered beneath the window where John Thornton and Margaret are looking out and all eyes and shouts are towards Thornton.]

Thornton:  Let ‘em yell.  Keep up your courage for a few minutes longer Miss Hale.

Margaret:   [taken aback]  I’m not afraid.  But can’t you pacify them?

Thornton:   The soldiers will make them see reason.

Margaret:   Reason?  What kind of reason?

[Margaret is looking straight at John Thornton at this point and now he turns to look right at her, no longer at the crowd.  He looks almost stunned by her strong words.]

Margaret:   Mr. Thornton, go down this instant and face them like a man.  Speak to them as if they were human beings!  [He looks out the window at the screaming faces again, whilst Margaret still looks straight at him.]  They’re driven mad with hunger.  Their children are starving.  They don’t know what they’re doing.  Go and save your innocent Irishmen.  [He stares at her for a moment before rushing towards the stairs.  Margaret once again looks at the enraged mob and yells back at John Thornton.] Mr. Thornton, take care!

[ Thornton opens the front doors with confidence and the mob voices rise in volume once again.  He stands on the stoop with his arms crossed.  In the crowd, Boucher reaches down and picks up a rock.  Margaret sees the action as well and rushes down the stairs to join John Thornton and speak to the crowd.]

Margaret Hale:   In God’s name, stop!  Think of what you’re doing!  He is only one man and you are many! Go home!  The soldiers are coming!

[Her words pacify the mob somewhat and their voices become quiet.  As Margaret speaks to them, John Thornton calmly walks out from behind her to stand beside her.]

Margaret Hale:  Go in peace.  You shall have an answer to your complaints.

Man in Mob:  Will you send the Irish home?!

John Thornton:   Never!!

[The crowd erupts with a new found vehemence of attitude.]

John Thornton:  [addressed to Margaret]   Go inside, this is not your place!

Margaret Hale:   They will not want to hurt a woman!

[Margaret throws her arms around John Thornton’s neck in an effort to protect him from the enraged mob.  He struggles to release her grasp and get her inside to safety.]

John Thornton:  Go inside or I will take you in!!

[Meanwhile, Boucher has raised his rock in hand and taken aim at Thornton.  He throws it, but it misses Thornton and hits Margaret on the temple.  She falls limp in John Thornton’s hands and he lays her on the doorstep.  The crowd once again falls quiet. Boucher and Stephens look worried. John Thornton is kneeling over Margaret’s unconscious body, his hand hovering over her bleeding head, but not daring to touch it.  He turns and rises, anger flaming into his eyes.]

John Thornton:  [yelling]   Are you satisfied?!  You came here for me so kill me if that’s what you want!!   [He stands to face the mob with his arms outstretched. The crowd is still standing silently. The sharp whistles of the soldiers ring out and the mob scrambles to escape the courtyard.  The soldiers on horses knock out whomever they can in the mob as they run past.]

[Back inside the Thornton’s sitting room. Margaret lies unconscious on the couch.]

Fanny Thornton:  Is she dead?

Jane the Maid:   No, Miss Fanny, she’s breathing but she looks very bad.

Fanny Thornton:   Oh, where is mother?  We need a doctor.   [Fanny fans herself vigorously.]

Jane the Maid:   Well she had to get through the rioters.  She were the only one of us brave enough to go. Did you see miss?

Fanny Thornton:  What?

Jane the Maid:  Miss Hale.  What happened down below.  Did you not see Miss Hale clinging to the Master?

Fanny Thornton:   No.   [with an expression of extreme shock – staring at Margaret’s figure on the couch.]  Did all the servants see?

Jane the Maid:  We had a good enough view from top window.

Fanny:  Mamma’s sure she’s set her mind on John.  This proves it.

[Margaret opens her eyes slowly and tries to sit up.]

Fanny:   Oh, quick, Jane!  Fetch some water!  There, there…Miss Hale.  You lie quietly.  [Fanny finally stops fanning herself to fan Margaret, from somewhat of a distance.]  Mother’s gone for the doctor.  He will be here soon!   [said in a tone reminiscent of one talking to someone slow of hearing.]

Margaret:  I don’t need a doctor.  I must go home.

[Hannah Thornton enters the room with Doctor Donaldson.]

Fanny:    No, you can’t!   Ah Mother, thank goodness you’re back!   Miss Hale’s just…

Hannah Thornton:    Is she worse?

Margaret:   No,  I’m quite well.  I want to go home.

[Doctor Donaldson looks at her eyes and the wound briefly.  Hannah Thornton looks quite concerned, while Fanny seems to cringe and want to look away in the background.]

Doctor Donaldson:  Mmm, looks worse than it is.

[Hannah Thornton looks relieved and Fanny looks much more at ease.]

Doctor Donaldson:   [while cleaning up the blood from her head wound.]   But you’ve had quite a blow, young lady.  You’d better rest here a while.

Margaret:  No, you know my mother is unwell.  She must not be alarmed.  If she hears of this… I will go now. [very weakly, but decidedly spoken.]

Hannah:   [Looking incredulously at Margaret, then for verification from the doctor.]  Surely not, doctor?

Doctor Donaldson:   I think she must be allowed to do as she will.  I’ll take her with me in the carriage; see she reaches home safely.  The streets are still very noisy.

Hannah Thornton:  [looking at a clearly weak Margaret, she relents to the doctor’s judgment, although it clearly goes against her own.]  Very well.

[An alleyway in the streets of Milton.  The whistles of the soldiers can be heard, along with the yells of both soldiers and mob members.  A few of the rioters run down the alleyway.  The last one is Boucher, who has been injured in the leg somehow in the scuffle.  He sits panting heavily against a wall behind a huge kettle.  The soldiers do not see him.]

Soldier:   This Way!

[The bottom floor of Thornton’s mill where Thornton is meeting with a couple of the mill owners and the constable.  He is staring out the window at the front door of his house.]

Constable:   Mr. Thornton?   Don’t worry sir.  We’ll catch the ringleaders.

Mill Master Henderson:  [addressed to Mill Master Slickson]  Thornton’s come up smiling again.  Those hoodlums have broken the strike.

Mill Master Slickson:   Didn’t even have to use his Irishmen.

[John Thornton gazes intensely out the window towards the windows of his house.  He is clearly thinking of Margaret’s well-being at the moment, not the rioters.  He visualizes seeing her unconscious and bleeding on the doorstep.]

[Margaret walks into her house, clearly still dazed.  She notices a spot of blood on her dress from her head wound.  She briefly looks at herself in the mirror and covers the wound with her hair.  As she takes a step on the stairs, her mother calls to her.]

Mrs. Hale:   Margaret, is that you?

Margaret:   Yes, Mother.  I…I’ll be in soon.  I must wash.  The streets are very dusty today.

[Thornton’s sitting room.  Fanny is now laying on the couch being fanned by Jane.  John Thornton walks in.]

John Thornton:   Where is Miss Hale?

Hannah:  She has gone home.

John Thornton:   Gone home?  That is not possible.

Hannah:  Really, John, she was quite well!

John Thornton:   Mother, she took a terrible blow.  What were you thinking of letting her go home?

Hannah Thornton:   Everything was done properly.  Doctor Donaldson was called.  In fact, I went for him myself as no one else seemed to have a mind to go.

John Thornton:   Thank you mother.  The streets were dangerous.  You should have…

Hannah:  I’m sure it’s not possible to keep such a headstrong young woman anywhere she does not care to be. She’s such a reckless young woman.

John Thornton:   Jane, have you nothing to be getting on with?

Jane the Maid:   Miss Fanny, sir, she…

Fanny Thornton:   I was so scared John!  Believe me, I almost fainted!  I thought they would break down the door and murder us all!  And…

Hannah Thornton:    Oh Fanny, don’t be so ridiculous.

John Thornton:   You were in no danger.

[Fanny is in shock at being responded to in this manner and appears to be gasping for something to say. John Thornton walks over and picks up his hat from a table near the window.]

Hannah Thornton:    Where are you going?

John Thornton:   To see if Miss Hale is well.

Hannah Thornton:  [said as John Thornton walks through the room on his way out.]  I sent her home in a carriage with Doctor Donaldson.  Everything was done properly. John!

[The tone of this exclamation stops him and he looks at his mother.]

Hannah Thornton:    I’m asking you not to go.

[Outside the Higgins’ house.  Mary Higgins exits the front door in a hurry.  she is half-running through the drizzling weather.]

[The Hale’s sitting room. Margaret is attending to her sleeping mother as her father enters the room and clutches his wife’s hand.]

Mr. Hale:    I…I hear there’s been…some violence up at Marlborough Mills.  I do hope there’s not too much damage.

Dixon:   [entering the room]  There’s a young lady wants Miss Margaret.  I told her to go but she’s very distressed.  Said her name’s Mary.

[Margaret goes to the front porch where Mary Higgins is waiting.]

Mary Higgins:    I’m sorry miss!  I didn’t know what to do!  Bessy’s been took so very ill!

[Margaret hurriedly throws on her shawl and rushes with Mary towards the Higgins’ house.]

[The cemetery in the hills on the outskirts of Milton.  John Thornton is walking pensively.]

[Margaret is comforting Bessy at the Higgins’ house as Bessy coughs and cries, clutching Margaret’s hand tightly, with Margaret calmly rubbing her back.]

[The Thornton’s sitting room.  Hannah Thornton looks somewhat worried as her son enters and puts his hat down on the table.]

John Thornton:   Still up? I  thought you’d be exhausted.

Hannah Thornton:  [as she embroiders something, facing the opposite direction of her son.]  Why should I be? Where have you been?

John Thornton:   Just walking.  [He walks further into the room and unties his cravat. Now his mother can see his face.]

Hannah Thornton:    Where have you been walking?

John Thornton:   I promised you I would not go there and I did not.

Hannah Thornton:   But?

John Thornton:   But…   [He comes and sits by his mother.]   Mother you know I will have to go there tomorrow and you know what I will have to say.

Hannah Thornton:   Yes.  You could hardly do otherwise.

John Thornton:  What do you mean?

Hannah Thornton:  I mean that you are bound in honor as she has shown her feelings for all the world to see.

John Thornton:   Her feelings?

Hannah Thornton:  She rushed out in front of an angry mob and saved you from danger.  Or are you telling me I imagined that?  You think none of the servants saw it?  Do you think it’s not become the tittle-tattle of Milton?

John Thornton:   She did save me.  But, Mother, I daren’t believe such a woman could care for me.

Hannah Thornton:   Don’t be so foolish.  And what more proof do you need, that she should act in such a shameless way?

[John Thornton sighs and Hannah Thornton reaches out and gently strokes his face.]

Hannah Thornton:    I’m sure she will take you from me.  That is why I did not want you to go to see her today. I wanted one last evening of being the first in your affections.  I will have to change the initials on our linen. It will bear her name now, hers and yours.

John Thornton:   I know she does not care for me.  But I can’t remain silent.  I must ask her.

Hannah Thornton:   Don’t be afraid, John.  She has admitted it to the world.  I may yet even learn to like her for it.  It must have taken a great deal to overcome her pride.

[Workers walk up the stairs to begin work at the mills.  The mill is busy and noisy with activity again, and the yard is filled with productivity instead of rioters.  Thornton leaves his house and walks through the yard.]

[Margaret’s bedroom.  Margaret reads a letter from her cousin Edith.]

Edith Lennox:   [Narrating]  Dear Margaret, if only Uncle would bring you all home you wouldn’t need to witness such suffering.  As for feeling guilty, Margaret, surely you can have nothing to reproach yourself for.  After all, the workers chose to go on strike and I am sure you’ve done your best to help.  Even when we were little girls you always did the right thing.

[Margaret smiles a tiny half-smile and then looks up, gazing pensively.]