The next day, the factory's roar did not cease, but nearly all the workers had been gathered in the square. Viller, the little old man who had previously been in charge of organizing them, hung from the factory gates.
Master Philpott stood on the platform in a neat suit, while two patrolmen stood below, idly toying with their truncheons.
"We all know the man before us! He disrupted production! He shirked and cheated! He deceived the people! Yet we always regarded him as one of our compatriots!
"Even if he was nothing but a parasite upon our society, I would still stuff bread into his ungrateful mouth and still give him a chance to work!
"Why? Because I believed that the noble, diligent blood of Prussia flowed through his veins."
Master Philpott put on a look of boundless compassion and spoke with heartfelt anguish.
"But none of us ever knew his true face! Viller! He is a spy of the Austrian Empire!
"Every incident began because of him. It was not that he did not know gratitude—he deliberately incited others!
"It was Viller, that profit-grasping scoundrel, who secretly sabotaged our machinery, reducing our output and lowering our profits. That was why, in order to survive, we had no choice but to cut wages!"
The workers below were somewhat doubtful. The factory machinery did indeed break down every few days, allowing them to catch their breath a little. Though they received no wages during that time, they did not want to hear the machines roaring either.
Yet, in Philpott's eyes, the workers' murmuring meant that they were already wavering. This was when he needed to produce evidence.
"Mr. Bent! Read the investigation report aloud for everyone!"
Bent, the supervisor, had long since prepared the report. He cleared his throat.
"Cough, cough!