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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Mr. Crewe's Career, Complete + +Author: Winston Churchill + +Release Date: October 6, 2006 [EBook #3684] +Last Updated: February 26, 2018 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MR. CREWE'S CAREER, COMPLETE *** + + + +Produced by David Widger + + + + + +</pre> + + <h1> + MR. CREWE'S CAREER, Complete + </h1> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h2> + By Winston Churchill + </h2> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p class="toc"> + <big><b>CONTENTS</b></big> + </p> + <p> + <br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0001"> <b>BOOK 1.</b> </a> <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0001"> CHAPTER I. </a>THE HONOURABLE HILARY VANE SITS FOR + HIS PORTRAIT <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0002"> CHAPTER II. </a>ON THE + TREATMENT OF PRODIGALS <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0003"> CHAPTER III. + </a>CONCERNING THE PRACTICE OF LAW <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0004"> + CHAPTER IV. </a>"TIMEO DANAOS” <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0005"> + CHAPTER V. </a>THE PARTING OF THE WAYS <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0006"> + CHAPTER VI. </a>ENTER THE LION <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0007"> + CHAPTER VII. </a>THE LEOPARD AND HIS SPOTS <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0008"> CHAPTER VIII. </a>THE TRIALS OF AN HONOURABLE + <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0009"> CHAPTER IX. </a>MR. CREWE ASSAULTS + THE CAPITAL <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0010"> CHAPTER X. </a>"FOR + BILLS MAY COME, AND BILLS MAY GO” <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0012"> + <b>BOOK 2.</b> </a> <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0011"> CHAPTER XI. </a>THE + HOPPER <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0012"> CHAPTER XII. </a>MR. + REDBROOK'S PARTY <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0013"> CHAPTER XIII. </a>THE + REALM OF PEGASUS <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0014"> CHAPTER XIV. </a>THE + DESCENDANTS OF HORATIUS <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0015"> CHAPTER XV. + </a>THE DISTURBANCE OF JUNE SEVENTH <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0016"> + CHAPTER XVI. </a>THE “BOOK OF ARGUMENTS” IS OPENED <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0017"> CHAPTER XVII. </a>BUSY DAYS AT WEDDERBURN <br /><br /> + <a href="#link2HCH0018"> CHAPTER XVIII. </a>A SPIRIT IN THE WOODS <br /><br /> + <a href="#link2HCH0019"> CHAPTER XIX. </a>MR. JABE JENNEY ENTERTAINS + <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0020"> CHAPTER XX. </a>MR. CREWE: AN + APPRECIATION (1) <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0023"> <b>BOOK 3.</b> + </a> <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0021"> CHAPTER XXI. </a>ST. GILES OF + THE BLAMELESS LIFE <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0022"> CHAPTER XXII. + </a>IN WHICH EUPHRASIA TAKES A HAND <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0023"> + CHAPTER XXIII. </a>A FALLING-OUT IN HIGH PLACES <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0024"> CHAPTER XXIV. </a>AN ADVENTURE OF VICTORIA'S <br /><br /> + <a href="#link2HCH0025"> CHAPTER XXV. </a>MORE ADVENTURER <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0026"> CHAPTER XXVI. </a>THE FOCUS OF WRATH <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0027"> CHAPTER XXVII. </a>THE ARENA AND THE DUST <br /><br /> + <a href="#link2HCH0028"> CHAPTER XXVIII. </a>THE VOICE OF AN + ERA <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0029"> CHAPTER XXIX. </a>THE VALE OF + THE BLUE <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0030"> CHAPTER XXX. </a>P.S. <br /><br /> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <h1> + BOOK 1. + </h1> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER I. THE HONOURABLE HILARY VANE SITS FOR HIS PORTRAIT + </h2> + <p> + I may as well begin this story with Mr. Hilary Vane, more frequently + addressed as the Honourable Hilary Vane, although it was the gentleman's + proud boast that he had never held an office in his life. He belonged to + the Vanes of Camden Street,—a beautiful village in the hills near + Ripton,—and was, in common with some other great men who had made a + noise in New York and the nation, a graduate of Camden Wentworth Academy. + But Mr. Vane, when he was at home, lived on a wide, maple-shaded street in + the city of Ripton, cared for by an elderly housekeeper who had more edges + than a new-fangled mowing machine. The house was a porticoed one which had + belonged to the Austens for a hundred years or more, for Hilary Vane had + married, towards middle age, Miss Sarah Austen. In two years he was a + widower, and he never tried it again; he had the Austens' house, and that + many-edged woman, Euphrasia Cotton, the Austens' housekeeper. + </p> + <p> + The house was of wood, and was painted white as regularly as leap year. + From the street front to the vegetable garden in the extreme rear it was + exceedingly long, and perhaps for propriety's sake—Hilary Vane lived + at one end of it and Euphrasia at the other. Hilary was sixty-five, + Euphrasia seventy, which is not old for frugal people, though it is just + as well to add that there had never been a breath of scandal about either + of them, in Ripton or elsewhere. For the Honourable Hilary's modest needs + one room sufficed, and the front parlour had not been used since poor + Sarah Austen's demise, thirty years before this story opens. + </p> + <p> + In those thirty years, by a sane and steady growth, Hilary Vane had + achieved his present eminent position in the State. He was trustee for I + know not how many people and institutions, a deacon in the first church, a + lawyer of such ability that he sometimes was accorded the courtesy-title + of “Judge.” His only vice—if it could be called such—was in + occasionally placing a piece, the size of a pea, of a particular kind of + plug tobacco under his tongue,—and this was not known to many + people. Euphrasia could not be called a wasteful person, and Hilary had + accumulated no small portion of this world's goods, and placed them as + propriety demanded, where they were not visible to the naked eye: and be + it added in his favour that he gave as secretly, to institutions and + hospitals the finances and methods of which were known to him. + </p> + <p> + As concrete evidence of the Honourable Hilary Vane's importance, when he + travelled he had only to withdraw from his hip-pocket a book in which many + coloured cards were neatly inserted, an open-sesame which permitted him to + sit without payment even in those wheeled palaces of luxury known as + Pullman cars. Within the limits of the State he did not even have to open + the book, but merely say, with a twinkle of his eyes to the conductor, + “Good morning, John,” and John would reply with a bow and a genial and + usually witty remark, and point him out to a nobody who sat in the back of + the car. So far had Mr. Hilary Vane's talents carried him. + </p> + <p> + The beginning of this eminence dated back to the days before the Empire, + when there were many little principalities of railroads fighting among + themselves. For we are come to a changed America. There was a time, in the + days of the sixth Edward of England, when the great landowners found it + more profitable to consolidate the farms, seize the common lands, and + acquire riches hitherto undreamed of. Hence the rising of tailor Ket and + others, and the leveling of fences and barriers, and the eating of many + sheep. It may have been that Mr. Vane had come across this passage in + English history, but he drew no parallels. His first position of trust had + been as counsel for that principality known in the old days as the Central + Railroad, of which a certain Mr. Duncan had been president, and Hilary + Vane had fought the Central's battles with such telling effect that when + it was merged into the one Imperial Railroad, its stockholders—to + the admiration of financiers—were guaranteed ten per cent. It was, + indeed, rumoured that Hilary drew the Act of Consolidation itself. At any + rate, he was too valuable an opponent to neglect, and after a certain + interval of time Mr. Vane became chief counsel in the State for the + Imperial Railroad, on which dizzy height we now behold him. And he found, + by degrees, that he had no longer time for private practice. + </p> + <p> + It is perhaps gratuitous to add that the Honourable Hilary Vane was a man + of convictions. In politics he would have told you—with some + vehemence, if you seemed to doubt—that he was a Republican. Treason + to party he regarded with a deep-seated abhorrence, as an act for which a + man should be justly outlawed. If he were in a mellow mood, with the right + quantity of Honey Dew tobacco under his tongue, he would perhaps tell you + why he was a Republican, if he thought you worthy of his confidence. He + believed in the gold standard, for one thing; in the tariff (left + unimpaired in its glory) for another, and with a wave of his hand would + indicate the prosperity of the nation which surrounded him,—a + prosperity too sacred to tamper with. + </p> + <p> + One article of his belief, and in reality the chief article, Mr. Vane + would not mention to you. It was perhaps because he had never formulated + the article for himself. It might be called a faith in the divine right of + Imperial Railroads to rule, but it was left out of the verbal creed. This + is far from implying hypocrisy to Mr. Vane. It was his foundation-rock and + too sacred for light conversation. When he allowed himself to be bitter + against various “young men with missions” who had sprung up in various + States of the Union, so-called purifiers of politics, he would call them + the unsuccessful with a grievance, and recommend to them the practice of + charity, forbearance, and other Christian virtues. Thank God, his State + was not troubled with such. + </p> + <p> + In person Mr. Hilary Vane was tall, with a slight stoop to his shoulders, + and he wore the conventional double-breasted black coat, which reached to + his knees, and square-toed congress boots. He had a Puritan beard, the + hawk-like Vane nose, and a twinkling eye that spoke of a sense of humour + and a knowledge of the world. In short, he was no man's fool, and on + occasions had been more than a match for certain New York lawyers with + national reputations. + </p> + <p> + It is rare, in this world of trouble, that such an apparently ideal and + happy state of existence is without a canker. And I have left the + revelation of the canker to the last. Ripton knew it was there, Camden + Street knew it, and Mr. Vane's acquaintances throughout the State; but + nobody ever spoke of it. Euphrasia shed over it the only tears she had + known since Sarah Austen died, and some of these blotted the only letters + she wrote. Hilary Vane did not shed tears, but his friends suspected that + his heart-strings were torn, and pitied him. Hilary Vane fiercely resented + pity, and that was why they did not speak of it. This trouble of his was + the common point on which he and Euphrasia touched, and they touched only + to quarrel. Let us out with it—Hilary Vane had a wild son, whose + name was Austen. + </p> + <p> + Euphrasia knew that in his secret soul Mr. Vane attributed this wildness, + and what he was pleased to designate as profligacy, to the Austen blood. + And Euphrasia resented it bitterly. Sarah Austen had been a young, elfish + thing when he married her,—a dryad, the elderly and learned Mrs. + Tredway had called her. Mr Vane had understood her about as well as he + would have understood Mary, Queen of Scots, if he had been married to that + lady. Sarah Austen had a wild, shy beauty, startled, alert eyes like an + animal, and rebellious black hair that curled about her ears and gave her + a faun-like appearance. With a pipe and the costume of Rosalind she would + have been perfect. She had had a habit of running off for the day into the + hills with her son, and the conventions of Ripton had been to her as so + many defunct blue laws. During her brief married life there had been + periods of defiance from her lasting a week, when she would not speak to + Hilary or look at him, and these periods would be followed by violent + spells of weeping in Euphrasia's arms, when the house was no place for + Hilary. He possessed by matrimony and intricate mechanism of which his + really admirable brain could not grasp the first principles; he felt for + her a real if uncomfortable affection, but when she died he heaved a sigh + of relief, at which he was immediately horrified. + </p> + <p> + Austen he understood little better, but his affection for the child may be + likened to the force of a great river rushing through a narrow gorge, and + he vied with Euphrasia in spoiling him. Neither knew what they were doing, + and the spoiling process was interspersed with occasional and (to Austen) + unmeaning intervals of severe discipline. The boy loved the streets and + the woods and his fellow-beings; his punishments were a series of + afternoons in the house, during one of which he wrecked the bedroom where + he was confined, and was soundly whaled with an old slipper that broke + under the process. Euphrasia kept the slipper, and once showed it to + Hilary during a quarrel they had when the boy was grown up and gone and + the house was silent, and Hilary had turned away, choking, and left the + room. Such was his cross. + </p> + <p> + To make it worse, the boy had love his father. Nay, still loved him. As a + little fellow, after a scolding for some wayward prank, he would throw + himself into Hilary's arms and cling to him, and would never know how near + he came to unmanning him. As Austen grew up, they saw the world in + different colours: blue to Hilary was red to Austen, and white, black; + essentials to one were non-essentials to the other; boys and girls, men + and women, abhorred by one were boon companions to the other. + </p> + <p> + Austen made fun of the minister, and was compelled to go church twice on + Sundays and to prayer-meeting on Wednesdays. Then he went to Camden + Street, to live with his grandparents in the old Vane house and attend + Camden Wentworth Academy. His letters, such as they were, were inimitable + if crude, but contained not the kind of humour Hilary Vane knew. Camden + Wentworth, principal and teachers, was painted to the life; and the lad + could hardly wait for vacation time to see his father, only to begin + quarreling with him again. + </p> + <p> + I pass over escapades in Ripton that shocked one half of the population + and convulsed the other half. Austen went to the college which his father + had attended,—a college of splendid American traditions,—and + his career there might well have puzzled a father of far greater tolerance + and catholicity. Hilary Vane was a trustee, and journeyed more than once + to talk the matter over with the president, who had been his classmate + there. + </p> + <p> + “I love that boy, Hilary,” the president had said at length, when pressed + for a frank opinion,—“there isn't a soul in the place, I believe, + that doesn't,—undergraduates and faculty,—but he has given me + more anxious thought than any scholar I have ever had.” + </p> + <p> + “Trouble,” corrected Mr. Vane, sententiously. + </p> + <p> + “Well, yes, trouble,” answered the president, smiling, “but upon my soul, + I think it is all animal spirits.” + </p> + <p> + “A euphemism for the devil,” said Hilary, grimly; “he is the animal part + of us, I have been brought up to believe.” + </p> + <p> + The president was a wise man, and took another tack. + </p> + <p> + “He has a really remarkable mind, when he chooses to use it. Every once in + a while he takes your breath away—but he has to become interested. A + few weeks ago Hays came to me direct from his lecture room to tell me + about a discussion of Austen's in constitutional law. Hays, you know, is + not easily enthused, but he declares your son has as fine a legal brain as + he has come across in his experience. But since then, I am bound to + admit,” added the president, sadly, “Austen seems not to have looked at a + lesson.” + </p> + <p> + “'Unstable as water, thou shalt not excel,'” replied Hilary. + </p> + <p> + “He'll sober down,” said the president, stretching his conviction a + little, “he has two great handicaps: he learns too easily, and he is too + popular.” The president looked out of his study window across the common, + surrounded by the great elms which had been planted when Indian lads + played among the stumps and the red flag of England had flown from the + tall pine staff. The green was covered now with students of a conquering + race, skylarking to and fro as they looked on at a desultory baseball + game. “I verily believe,” said the president, “at a word from your son, + most of them would put on their coats and follow him on any mad expedition + that came into his mind.” + </p> + <p> + Hilary Vane groaned more than once in the train back to Ripton. It meant + nothing to him to be the father of the most popular man in college. + </p> + <p> + “The mad expedition” came at length in the shape of a fight with the + townspeople, in which Austen, of course, was the ringleader. If he had + inherited his mother's eccentricities, he had height and physique from the + Vanes, and one result was a week in bed for the son of the local plumber + and a damage suit against the Honourable Hilary. Another result was that + Austen and a Tom Gaylord came back to Ripton on a long suspension, which, + rumour said, would have been expulsion if Hilary were not a trustee. Tom + Gaylord was proud of suspension in such company. More of him later. He was + the son of old Tom Gaylord, who owned more lumber than any man in the + State, and whom Hilary Vane believed to be the receptacle of all the + vices. + </p> + <p> + Eventually Austen went back and graduated—not summa cum laude, + honesty compels me to add. Then came the inevitable discussion, and to + please his father he went to the Harvard Law School for two years. At the + end of that time, instead of returning to Ripton, a letter had come from + him with the postmark of a Western State, where he had fled with a + classmate who owned ranch. Evidently the worldly consideration to be + derived from conformity counted little with Austen Vane. Money was a + medium only—not an end. He was in the saddle all day, with nothing + but the horizon to limit him; he loved his father, and did not doubt his + father's love for him, and he loved Euphrasia. He could support himself, + but he must see life. The succeeding years brought letters and quaint, + useless presents to both the occupants of the lonely house,—Navajo + blankets and Indian jeweler and basket-work,—and Austen little knew + how carefully these were packed away and surreptitiously gazed at from + time to time. But to Hilary the Western career was a disgrace, and such + meagre reports of it as came from other sources than Austen tended only to + confirm him in this opinion. + </p> + <p> + It was commonly said of Mr. Paul Pardriff that not a newspaper fell from + the press that he did not have a knowledge of its contents. Certain it was + that Mr. Pardriff made a specialty of many kinds of knowledge, political + and otherwise, and, the information he could give—if he chose—about + State and national affairs was of a recondite and cynical nature that made + one wish to forget about the American flag. Mr. Pardriff was under forty, + and with these gifts many innocent citizens of Ripton naturally wondered + why the columns of his newspaper, the Ripton Record, did not more closely + resemble the spiciness of his talk in the office of Gales' Hotel. The + columns contained, instead, such efforts as essays on a national flower + and the abnormal size of the hats of certain great men, notably Andrew + Jackson; yes, and the gold standard; and in times of political stress they + were devoted to a somewhat fulsome praise of regular and orthodox + Republican candidates,—and praise of any one was not in character + with the editor. Ill-natured people said that the matter in his paper + might possibly be accounted for by the gratitude of the candidates, and + the fact that Mr. Pardriff and his wife and his maid-servant and his hired + man travelled on pink mileage books, which could only be had for love—not + money. On the other hand, reputable witnesses had had it often from Mr. + Pardriff that he was a reformer, and not at all in sympathy with certain + practices which undoubtedly existed. + </p> + <p> + Some years before—to be exact, the year Austen Vane left the law + school—Mr. Pardriff had proposed to exchange the Ripton Record with + the editor of the Pepper County Plainsman in afar Western State. The + exchange was effected, and Mr. Pardriff glanced over the Plainsman + regularly once a week, though I doubt whether the Western editor ever read + the Record after the first copy. One day in June Mr. Pardriff was seated + in his sanctum above Merrill's drug store when his keen green eyes fell + upon the following:—“The Plainsman considers it safe to say that the + sympathy of the people of Pepper County at large is with Mr. Austen Vane, + whose personal difficulty with Jim Blodgett resulted so disastrously for + Mr. Blodgett. The latter gentleman has long made himself obnoxious to + local ranch owners by his persistent disregard of property lines and + property, and it will be recalled that he is at present in hot water with + the energetic Secretary of the Interior for fencing government lands. + Vane, who was recently made manager of Ready Money Ranch, is one of the + most popular young men in the county. He was unwillingly assisted over the + State line by his friends. Although he has never been a citizen of the + State, the Plainsman trusts that he may soon be back and become one of us. + At last report Mr. Blodgett was resting easily.” + </p> + <p> + This article obtained circulation in Ripton, although it was not copied + into the Record out of deference to the feelings of the Honourable Hilary + Vane. In addition to the personal regard Mr. Pardriff professed to have + for the Honourable Hilary, it maybe well to remember that Austen's father + was, among other, things, chairman of the State Committee. Mr. Tredway + (largest railroad stockholder in Ripton) pursed his lips that were already + pursed. Tom Gaylord roared with laughter. Two or three days later the + Honourable Hilary, still in blissful ignorance, received a letter that + agitated him sorely. + </p> + <p> + “DEAR FATHER: I hope you don't object to receiving a little visit from a + prodigal, wayward son. To tell the truth, I have found it convenient to + leave the Ready Money Ranch for a while, although Bob Tyner is good enough + to say I may have the place when I come back. You know I often think of + you and Phrasie back in Ripton, and I long to see the dear old town again. + Expect me when you see me. + </p> + <p> + “Your aff. son, + </p> + <p> + “AUSTEN.” <a name="link2HCH0002" id="link2HCH0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER II. ON THE TREATMENT OF PRODIGALS + </h2> + <p> + While Euphrasia, in a frenzy of anticipation, garnished and swept the room + which held for her so many memories of Austen's boyhood, even beating the + carpet with her own hands, Hilary Vane went about his business with no + apparent lack of diligence. But he was meditating. He had many times + listened to the Reverend Mr. Weightman read the parable from the pulpit, + but he had never reflected how it would be to be the father of a real + prodigal. What was to be done about the calf? Was there to be a calf, or + was there not? To tell the truth, Hilary wanted a calf, and yet to have + one (in spite of Holy Writ) would seem to set a premium on disobedience + and riotous living. + </p> + <p> + Again, Austen had reached thirty, an age when it was not likely he would + settle down and live an orderly and godly life among civilized beings, and + therefore a fatted calf was likely to be the first of many follies which + he (Hilary) would live to regret. No, he would deal with justice. How he + dealt will be seen presently, but when he finally reached this conclusion, + the clipping from the Pepper County Plainsman had not yet come before his + eyes. + </p> + <p> + It is worth relating how the clipping did come before his eyes, for no one + in Ripton had the temerity to speak of it. Primarily, it was because Miss + Victoria Flint had lost a terrier, and secondarily, because she was a + person of strong likes and dislikes. In pursuit of the terrier she drove + madly through Leith, which, as everybody knows, is a famous colony of rich + summer residents. Victoria probably stopped at every house in Leith, and + searched them with characteristic vigour and lack of ceremony, sometimes + entering by the side door, and sometimes by the front, and caring very + little whether the owners were at home or not. Mr. Humphrey Crewe + discovered her in a boa-stall at Wedderburn,—as his place was + called,—for it made little difference to Victoria that Mr. Crewe was + a bachelor of marriageable age and millions. Full, as ever, of practical + suggestions, Mr. Crewe proposed to telephone to Ripton and put an + advertisement in the Record, which—as he happened to know—went + to press the next day. Victoria would not trust to the telephone, + whereupon Mr. Crewe offered to drive down with her. + </p> + <p> + “You'd bore me, Humphrey,” said she, as she climbed into her runabout with + the father and grandfather of the absentee. Mr. Crewe laughed as she drove + away. He had a chemical quality of turning invidious remarks into + compliments, and he took this one as Victoria's manner of saying that she + did not wish to disturb so important a man. + </p> + <p> + Arriving in the hot main street of Ripton, her sharp eyes descried the + Record sign over the drug store, and in an astonishingly short time she + was in the empty office. Mr. Pardriff was at dinner. She sat down in the + editorial chair and read a great deal of uninteresting matter, but at last + found something on the floor (where the wind had blown it) which made her + laugh. It was the account of Austen Vane's difficulty with Mr. Blodgett. + Victoria did not know Austen, but she knew that the Honourable Hilary had + a son of that name who had gone West, and this was what tickled her. She + thrust the clipping in the pocket of her linen coat just as Mr. Pardriff + came in. + </p> + <p> + Her conversation with the editor of the Record proved so entertaining that + she forgot all about the clipping until she had reached Fairview, and had + satisfied a somewhat imperious appetite by a combination of lunch and + afternoon tea. Fairview was the “summer place” of Mr. Augustus P. Flint, + her father, on a shelf of the hills in the town of Tunbridge, equidistant + from Leith and Ripton: and Mr. Flint was the president of the Imperial + Railroad, no less. + </p> + <p> + Yes, he had once been plain Gus Flint, many years ago, when he used to + fetch the pocket-handkerchiefs of Mr. Isaac D. Worthington of Brampton, + and he was still “Gus” to his friends. Mr. Flint's had been the brain + which had largely conceived and executed the consolidation of + principalities of which the Imperial Railroad was the result and, as + surely as tough metal prevails, Mr. Flint, after many other trials and + errors of weaker stuff, had been elected to the place for which he was so + supremely fitted. We are so used in America to these tremendous rises that + a paragraph will suffice to place Mr. Flint in his Aladdin's palace. To do + him justice, he cared not a fig for the palace, and he would have been + content with the farmhouse under the hill where his gardener lived. You + could not fool Mr. Flint on a horse or a farm, and he knew to a dot what a + railroad was worth by travelling over it. Like his governor-general and + dependent, Mr. Hilary Vane, he had married a wife who had upset all his + calculations. The lady discovered Mr. Flint's balance in the bank, and had + proceeded to use it for her own glorification, and the irony of it all was + that he could defend it from everybody else. Mrs. Flint spent, and Mr. + Flint paid the bills; for the first ten years protestingly, and after that + he gave it up and let her go her own gait. + </p> + <p> + She had come from the town of Sharon, in another State, through which Mr. + Flint's railroad also ran, and she had been known as the Rose of that + place. She had begun to rise immediately, with the kite-like adaptability + of the American woman for high altitudes, and the leaden weight of the + husband at the end of the tail was as nothing to her. She had begun it all + by the study of people in hotels while Mr. Flint was closeted with + officials and directors. By dint of minute observation and reasoning + powers and unflagging determination she passed rapidly through several + strata, and had made a country place out of her husband's farm in + Tunbridge, so happily and conveniently situated near Leith. In winter they + lived on Fifth Avenue. + </p> + <p> + One daughter alone had halted, for a minute period, this progress, and + this daughter was Victoria—named by her mother. Victoria was now + twenty-one, and was not only of another generation, but might almost have + been judged of another race than her parents. The things for which her + mother had striven she took for granted, and thought of them not at all, + and she had by nature that simplicity and astonishing frankness of manner + and speech which was once believed to be an exclusive privilege of + duchesses. + </p> + <p> + To return to Fairview. Victoria, after sharing her five o'clock luncheon + with her dogs, went to seek her father, for the purpose (if it must be + told) of asking him for a cheque. Mr. Flint was at Fairview on the average + of two days out of the week during the summer, and then he was nearly + always closeted with a secretary and two stenographers and a long-distance + telephone in two plain little rooms at the back of the house. And Mr. + Hilary Vane was often in consultation with him, as he was on the present + occasion when Victoria flung open the door. At sight of Mr. Vane she + halted suddenly on the threshold, and a gleam of mischief came into her + eye as she thrust her hand into her coat pocket. The two regarded her with + the detached air of men whose thread of thought has been broken. + </p> + <p> + “Well, Victoria,” said her father, kindly if resignedly, “what is it now?” + </p> + <p> + “Money,” replied Victoria, promptly; “I went to Avalon this morning and + bought that horse you said I might have.” + </p> + <p> + “What horse?” asked Mr. Flint, vaguely. “But never mind. Tell Mr. Freeman + to make out the cheque.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Vane glanced at Mr. Flint, and his eyes twinkled. Victoria, who had + long ago discovered the secret of the Honey Dew, knew that he was rolling + it under his tongue and thinking her father a fool for his indulgence. + </p> + <p> + “How do you do, Mr. Vane?” she said; “Austen's coming home, isn't he?” She + had got this by feminine arts out of Mr. Paul Pardriff, to whom she had + not confided the fact of her possession of the clipping. + </p> + <p> + The Honourable Hilary gave a grunt, as he always did when he was surprised + and displeased, as though some one had prodded him with a stick in a + sensitive spot. + </p> + <p> + “Your son? Why, Vane, you never told me that,” said Mr. Flint. “I didn't + know that you knew him, Victoria.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't,” answered Victoria, “but I'd like to. What did he do to Mr. + Blodgett?” she demanded of Hilary. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Blodgett!” exclaimed that gentleman. “I never heard of him. What's + happened to him?” + </p> + <p> + “He will probably recover,” she assured him. + </p> + <p> + The Honourable Hilary, trying in vain to suppress his agitation, rose to + his feet. + </p> + <p> + “I don't know what you're talking about, Victoria,” he said, but his + glance was fixed on the clipping in her hand. + </p> + <p> + “Haven't you seen it?” she asked, giving it to him. + </p> + <p> + He read it in silence, groaned, and handed it to Mr. Flint, who had been + drumming on the table and glancing at Victoria with vague disapproval. Mr. + Flint read it and gave it back to the Honourable Hilary, who groaned again + and looked out of the window. + </p> + <p> + “Why do you feel badly about it?” asked Victoria. “I'd be proud of him, if + I were you.” + </p> + <p> + “Proud of him” echoed Mr. Vane, grimly. “Proud of him!” + </p> + <p> + “Victoria, what do you mean?” said Mr. Flint. + </p> + <p> + “Why not?” said Victoria. “He's done nothing to make you ashamed. + According to that clipping, he's punished a man who richly deserved to be + punished, and he has the sympathy of an entire county.” + </p> + <p> + Hilary Vane was not a man to discuss his domestic affliction with anybody, + so he merely grunted and gazed persistently out of the window, and was not + aware of the fact that Victoria made a little face at him as she left the + room. The young are not always impartial judges of the old, and Victoria + had never forgiven him for carrying to her father the news of an escapade + of hers in Ripton. + </p> + <p> + As he drove through the silent forest roads on his way homeward that + afternoon, the Honourable Hilary revolved the new and intensely + disagreeable fact in his mind as to how he should treat a prodigal who had + attempted manslaughter and was a fugitive from justice. In the meantime a + tall and spare young man of a red-bronze colour alighted from the five + o'clock express at Ripton and grinned delightedly at the gentlemen who + made the station their headquarters about train time. They were privately + disappointed that the gray felt hat, although broad-brimmed, was not a + sombrero, and the respectable, loose-fitting suit of clothes was not of + buckskin with tassels on the trousers; and likewise that he came without + the cartridge belt and holster which they had pictured in anticipatory + sessions on the baggage-trucks. There could be no doubt of the warmth of + their greeting as they sidled up and seized a hand somewhat larger than + theirs, but the welcome had in it an ingredient of awe that puzzled the + newcomer, who did not hesitate to inquire:—“What's the matter, Ed? + Why so ceremonious, Perley?” + </p> + <p> + But his eagerness did not permit him to wait for explanations. Grasping + his bag, the only baggage he possessed, he started off at a swinging + stride for Hanover Street, pausing only to shake the hands of the few who + recognized him, unconscious of the wild-fire at his back. Hanover Street + was empty that drowsy summer afternoon, and he stopped under the + well-remembered maples before the house and gazed at it long and tenderly; + even at the windows of that room—open now for the first time in + years—where he had served so many sentences of imprisonment. Then he + went cautiously around by the side and looked in at the kitchen door. To + other eyes than his Euphrasia might not have seemed a safe person to + embrace, but in a moment he had her locked in his arms and weeping. She + knew nothing as yet of Mr. Blodgett's misfortunes, but if Austen Vane had + depopulated a county it would have made no difference in her affection. + </p> + <p> + “My, but you're a man,” exclaimed Euphrasia, backing away at last and + staring at him with the only complete approval she had ever accorded to + any human being save one. + </p> + <p> + “What did you expect, Phrasie?” + </p> + <p> + “Come, and I'll show you your room,” she said, in a gutter she could not + hide; “it's got all the same pictures in, your mother's pictures, and the + chair you broke that time when Hilary locked you in. It's mended.” + </p> + <p> + “Hold on, Phrasie,” said Austen, seizing her by the apron-strings, “how + about the Judge?” It was by this title he usually designated his father. + </p> + <p> + “What about him?” demanded Euphrasia, sharply. + </p> + <p> + “Well, it's his house, for one thing,” answered Austen, “and he may prefer + to have that room—empty.” + </p> + <p> + “Empty! Turn you out? I'd like to see him,” cried Euphrasia. “It wouldn't + take me long to leave him high and dry.” + </p> + <p> + She paused at the sound of wheels, and there was the Honourable Hilary, + across the garden patch, in the act of slipping out of his buggy at the + stable door. In the absence of Luke, the hired man, the chief counsel for + the railroad was wont to put up the horse himself, and he already had the + reins festooned from the bit rings when he felt a heavy, hand on his + shoulder and heard a voice say:—“How are you, Judge?” + </p> + <p> + If the truth be told, that voice and that touch threw the Honourable + Hilary's heart out of beat. Many days he had been schooling himself for + this occasion: this very afternoon he had determined his course of action, + which emphatically did not include a fatted calf. And now surged up a + dryad-like memory which had troubled him many a wakeful night, of + startled, appealing eyes that sought his in vain, and of the son she had + left him flinging himself into his arms in the face of chastisement. For + the moment Hilary Vane, under this traitorous influence, was unable to + speak. But he let the hand rest on his shoulder, and at length was able to + pronounce, in a shamefully shaky voice, the name of his son. Whereupon + Austen seized him by the other shoulder and turned him round and looked + into his face. + </p> + <p> + “The same old Judge,” he said. + </p> + <p> + But Hilary was startled, even as Euphrasia had been. Was this strange, + bronzed, quietly humorous young man his son? Hilary even had to raise his + eyes a little; he had forgotten how tall Austen was. Strange emotions, + unbidden and unwelcome, ran riot in his breast; and Hilary Vane, who made + no slips before legislative committees or supreme courts, actually found + himself saying:—“Euphrasia's got your room ready.” + </p> + <p> + “It's good of you to take me in, Judge,” said Austen, patting his + shoulder. And then he began, quite naturally to unbuckle the breechings + and loose the traces, which he did with such deftness and celerity that he + had the horse unharnessed and in the stall in a twinkling, and had hauled + the buggy through the stable door, the Honourable Hilary watching him the + while. He was troubled, but for the life of him could find no adequate + words, who usually had the dictionary at his disposal. + </p> + <p> + “Didn't write me why you came home,” said the Honourable Hilary, as his + son washed his hands at the spigot. + </p> + <p> + “Didn't I? Well, the truth was I wanted to see you again, Judge.” + </p> + <p> + His father grunted, not with absolute displeasure, but suspiciously. + </p> + <p> + “How about Blodgett?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “Blodgett? Have you heard about that? Who told you?” + </p> + <p> + “Never mind. You didn't. Nothing in your letter about it.” + </p> + <p> + “It wasn't worth mentioning,” replied Austen. “Tyner and the boys liked it + pretty well, but I didn't think you'd be interested. It was a local + affair.” + </p> + <p> + “Not interested! Not worth mentioning!” exclaimed the Honourable Hilary, + outraged to discover that his son was modestly deprecating an achievement + instead of defending a crime. “Godfrey! murder ain't worth mentioning, I + presume.” + </p> + <p> + “Not when it isn't successful,” said Austen. “If Blodgett had succeeded, I + guess you'd have heard of it before you did.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you mean to say this Blodgett tried to kill you?” demanded the + Honourable Hilary. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said his son, “and I've never understood why he didn't. He's a good + deal better shot than I am.” + </p> + <p> + The Honourable Hilary grunted, and sat down on a bucket and carefully + prepared a piece of Honey Dew. He was surprised and agitated. + </p> + <p> + “Then why are you a fugitive from justice if you were acting in + self-defence?” he inquired. + </p> + <p> + “Well, you see there were no witnesses, except a Mexican of Blodgett's, + and Blodgett runs the Pepper County machine for the railroad out there. + I'd been wanting to come East and have a look at you for some time, and I + thought I might as well come now.” + </p> + <p> + “How did this—this affair start?” asked Mr. Vane. + </p> + <p> + “Blodgett was driving in some of Tyner's calves, and I caught him. I told + him what I thought of him, and he shot at me through his pocket. That was + all.” + </p> + <p> + “All! You shot him, didn't you?” + </p> + <p> + “I was lucky enough to hit him first,” said Austen. + </p> + <p> + Extraordinary as it may seem, the Honourable Hilary experienced a sense of + pride. + </p> + <p> + “Where did you hit him?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + It was Euphrasia who took matters in her own hands and killed the fatted + calf, and the meal to which they presently sat down was very different + from the frugal suppers Mr. Vane usually had. But he made no comment. It + is perhaps not too much to say that he would have been distinctly + disappointed had it been otherwise. There was Austen's favourite pie, and + Austen's favourite cake, all inherited from the Austens, who had thought + more of the fleshpots than people should. And the prodigal did full + justice to the occasion. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER III. CONCERNING THE PRACTICE OF LAW + </h2> + <p> + So instinctively do we hark back to the primeval man that there was a + tendency to lionize the prodigal in Ripton, which proves the finished + civilization of the East not to be so far removed from that land of + outlaws, Pepper County. Mr. Paul Pardriff, who had a guilty conscience + about the clipping, and vividly bearing in mind Mr. Blodgett's mishap, + alone avoided young Mr. Vane; and escaped through the type-setting room + and down an outside stairway in the rear when that gentleman called. It + gave an ironical turn to the incident that Mr. Pardriff was at the moment + engaged in a “Welcome Home” paragraph meant to be propitiatory. + </p> + <p> + Austen cared very little for lionizing. He spent most of his time with + young Tom Gaylord, now his father's right-hand man in a tremendous lumber + business. And Tom, albeit he had become so important, habitually fell once + more under the domination of the hero of his youthful days. Together these + two visited haunts of their boyhood, camping and fishing and scaling + mountains, Tom with an eye to lumbering prospects the while. + </p> + <p> + After a matter of two or three months bad passed away in this pleasant + though unprofitable manner, the Honourable Hilary requested the presence + of his son one morning at his office. This office was in what had once + been a large residence, and from its ample windows you could look out + through the elms on to the square. Old-fashioned bookcases lined with + musty books filled the walls, except where a steel engraving of a legal + light or a railroad map of the State was hung, and the Honourable Hilary + sat in a Windsor chair at a mahogany table in the middle. + </p> + <p> + The anteroom next door, where the clerks sat, was also a waiting-room for + various individuals from the different parts of the State who continually + sought the counsel's presence. + </p> + <p> + “Haven't seen much of you since you've be'n home, Austen,” his father + remarked as an opening. + </p> + <p> + “Your—legal business compels you to travel a great deal,” answered + Austen, turning from the window and smiling. + </p> + <p> + “Somewhat,” said the Honourable Hilary, on whom this pleasantry was not + lost. “You've be'n travelling on the lumber business, I take it.” + </p> + <p> + “I know more about it than I did,” his son admitted. + </p> + <p> + The Honourable Hilary grunted. + </p> + <p> + “Caught a good many fish, haven't you?” + </p> + <p> + Austen crossed the room and sat on the edge of the desk beside his + father's chair. + </p> + <p> + “See here, Judge,” he said, “what are you driving at? Out with it.” + </p> + <p> + “When are you—going back West?” asked Mr. Vane. + </p> + <p> + Austen did not answer at once, but looked down into his father's + inscrutable face. + </p> + <p> + “Do you want to get rid of me?” he said. + </p> + <p> + “Sowed enough wild oats, haven't you?” inquired the father. + </p> + <p> + “I've sowed a good many,” Austen admitted. + </p> + <p> + “Why not settle down?” + </p> + <p> + “I haven't yet met the lady, Judge,” replied his son. + </p> + <p> + “Couldn't support her if you had,” said Mr. Vane. + </p> + <p> + “Then it's fortunate,” said Austen, resolved not to be the necessary + second in a quarrel. He knew his father, and perceived that these + preliminary and caustic openings of his were really olive branches. + </p> + <p> + “Sometimes I think you might as well be in that outlandish country, for + all I see of you,” said the Honourable Hilary. + </p> + <p> + “You ought to retire from business and try fishing,” his son suggested. + </p> + <p> + The Honourable Hilary sometimes smiled. + </p> + <p> + “You've got a good brain, Austen, and what's the use of wasting it chasing + cattle and practising with a pistol on your fellow-beings? You won't have + much trouble in getting admitted to the bar. Come into the office.” + </p> + <p> + Austen did not answer at once. He suspected that it had cost his father + not a little to make these advances. + </p> + <p> + “Do you believe you and I could get along, Judge? How long do you think it + would last?” + </p> + <p> + “I've considered that some,” answered the Honourable Hilary, “but I won't + last a great while longer myself.” + </p> + <p> + “You're as sound as a bronco,” declared Austen, patting him. + </p> + <p> + “I never was what you might call dissipated,” agreed Mr. Vane, “but men + don't go on forever. I've worked hard all my life, and got where I am, and + I've always thought I'd like to hand it on to you. It's a position of + honour and trust, Austen, and one of which any lawyer might be proud.” + </p> + <p> + “My ambition hasn't run in exactly that channel,” said his son. + </p> + <p> + “Didn't know as you had any precise ambition,” responded the Honourable + Hilary, “but I never heard of a man refusing to be chief counsel for a + great railroad. I don't say you can be, mind, but I say with work and + brains it's as easy for the son of Hilary Vane as for anybody else.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know much about the duties of such a position,” said Austen, + laughing, “but at all events I shall have time to make up my mind how to + answer Mr. Flint when he comes to me with the proposal. To speak frankly, + Judge, I hadn't thought of spending the whole of what might otherwise + prove a brilliant life in Ripton.” + </p> + <p> + The Honourable Hilary smiled again, and then he grunted. + </p> + <p> + “I tell you what I'll do,” he said; “you come in with me and agree to stay + five years. If you've done well for yourself, and want to go to New York + or some large place at the end of that time, I won't hinder you. But I + feel it my duty to say, if you don't accept my offer, no son of mine shall + inherit what I've laid up by hard labour. It's against American doctrine, + and it's against my principles. You can go back to Pepper County and get + put in jail, but you can't say I haven't warned you fairly.” + </p> + <p> + “You ought to leave your fortune to the railroad, Judge,” said Austen. + “Generations to come would bless your name if you put up a new station in + Ripton and built bridges over Bunker Hill grade crossing and the other one + on Heath Street where Nic Adams was killed last month. I shouldn't + begrudge a cent of the money.” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose I was a fool to talk to you,” said the Honourable Hilary, + getting up. + </p> + <p> + But his son pushed him down again into the Windsor chair. + </p> + <p> + “Hold on, Judge,” he said, “that was just my way of saying if I accepted + your offer, it wouldn't be because I yearned after the money. Thinking of + it has never kept me awake nights. Now if you'll allow me to take a few + days once in a while to let off steam, I'll make a counter proposal, in + the nature of a compromise.” + </p> + <p> + “What's that?” the Honourable Hilary demanded suspiciously. + </p> + <p> + “Provided I get admitted to the bar I will take a room in another part of + this building and pick up what crumbs of practice I can by myself. Of + course, sir, I realize that these, if they come at all, will be owing to + the lustre of your name. But I should, before I become Mr. Flint's + right-hand man, like to learn to walk with my own legs.” + </p> + <p> + The speech pleased the Honourable Hilary, and he put out his hand. + </p> + <p> + “It's a bargain, Austen,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “I don't mind telling you now, Judge, that when I left the West I left it + for good, provided you and I could live within a decent proximity. And I + ought to add that I always intended going into the law after I'd had a + fling. It isn't fair to leave you with the impression that this is a + sudden determination. Prodigals don't become good as quick as all that.” + </p> + <p> + Ripton caught its breath a second time the day Austen hired a law office, + nor did the surprise wholly cease when, in one season, he was admitted to + the bar, for the proceeding was not in keeping with the habits and customs + of prodigals. Needless to say, the practice did not immediately begin to + pour in, but the little office rarely lacked a visitor, and sometimes had + as many as five or six. There was an irresistible attraction about that + room, and apparently very little law read there, though sometimes its + occupant arose and pushed the visitors into the hall and locked the door, + and opened the window at the top to let the smoke out. Many of the + Honourable Hilary's callers preferred the little room in the far corridor + to the great man's own office. + </p> + <p> + These visitors of the elder Mr. Vane's, as has been before hinted, were + not all clients. Without burdening the reader too early with a treatise on + the fabric of a system, suffice it to say that something was continually + going on that was not law; and gentlemen came and went—fat and thin, + sharp-eyed and red-faced—who were neither clients nor lawyers. These + were really secretive gentlemen, though most of them had a + hail-fellow-well-met manner and a hearty greeting, but when they talked to + the Honourable Hilary it was with doors shut, and even then they sat very + close to his ear. Many of them preferred now to wait in Austen's office + instead of the anteroom, and some of them were not so cautious with the + son of Hilary Vane that they did not let drop certain observations to set + him thinking. He had a fanciful if somewhat facetious way of calling them + by feudal titles which made them grin. + </p> + <p> + “How is the Duke of Putnam this morning?” he would ask of the gentleman of + whom the Ripton Record would frequently make the following announcement: + “Among the prominent residents of Putnam County in town this week was the + Honourable Brush Bascom.” + </p> + <p> + The Honourable Brush and many of his associates, barons and earls, albeit + the shrewdest of men, did not know exactly how to take the son of Hilary + Vane. This was true also of the Honourable Hilary himself, who did not + wholly appreciate the humour in Austen's parallel of the feudal system. + Although Austen had set up for himself, there were many ways—not + legal—in which the son might have been helpful to the father, but + the Honourable Hilary hesitated, for some unformulated reason, to make use + of him; and the consequence was that Mr. Hamilton Tooting and other young + men of a hustling nature in the Honourable Hilary's office found that + Austen's advent did not tend greatly to lighten a certain class of their + labours. In fact, father and son were not much nearer in spirit than when + ode had been in Pepper County and the other in Ripton. Caution and an + instinct which senses obstacles are characteristics of gentlemen in Mr. + Vane's business. + </p> + <p> + So two years passed,—years liberally interspersed with expeditions + into the mountains and elsewhere, and nights spent in the company of Tom + Gaylord and others. During this period Austen was more than once assailed + by the temptation to return to the free life of Pepper County, Mr. + Blodgett having completely recovered now, and only desiring vengeance of a + corporal nature. But a bargain was a bargain, and Austen Vane stuck to his + end of it, although he had now begun to realize many aspects of a + situation which he had not before suspected. He had long foreseen, + however, that the time was coming when a serious disagreement with his + father was inevitable. In addition to the difference in temperament, + Hilary Vane belonged to one generation and Austen to another. + </p> + <p> + It happened, as do so many incidents which tend to shape a life, by a + seeming chance. It was a Tune evening, and there had been a church + sociable and basket picnic during the day in a grove in the town of + Mercer, some ten miles south of Ripton. The grove was bounded on one side + by the railroad track, and merged into a thick clump of second growth and + alders where there was a diagonal grade crossing. The picnic was over and + the people preparing to go home when they were startled by a crash, + followed by the screaming of brakes as a big engine flew past the grove + and brought a heavy train to a halt some distance down the grade. The + women shrieked and dropped the dishes they were washing, and the men left + their horses standing and ran to the crossing and then stood for the + moment helpless, in horror at the scene which met their eyes. The wagon of + one—of their own congregation was in splinters, a man (a farmer of + the neighbourhood) lying among the alders with what seemed a mortal + injury. Amid the lamentations and cries for some one to go to Mercer + Village for the doctor a young man drove up rapidly and sprang out of a + buggy, trusting to some one to catch his horse, pushed, through the ring + of people, and bent over the wounded farmer. In an instant he had whipped + out a knife, cut a stick from one of the alders, knotted his handkerchief + around the man's leg, ran the stick through the knot, and twisted the + handkerchief until the blood ceased to flow. They watched him, paralyzed, + as the helpless in this world watch the capable, and before he had + finished his task the train crew and some passengers began to arrive. + </p> + <p> + “Have you a doctor aboard, Charley?” the young man asked. + </p> + <p> + “No,” answered the conductor, who had been addressed; “my God, not one, + Austen.” + </p> + <p> + “Back up your train,” said Austen, “and stop your baggage car here. And go + to the grove,” he added to one of the picnickers, “and bring four or five + carriage cushions. And you hold this.” + </p> + <p> + The man beside him took the tourniquet, as he was bid. Austen Vane drew a + note-book from his pocket. + </p> + <p> + “I want this man's name and address,” he said, “and the names and + addresses of every person here, quickly.” + </p> + <p> + He did not lift his voice, but the man who had taken charge of such a + situation was not to be denied. They obeyed him, some eagerly, some + reluctantly, and by that time the train had backed down and the cushions + had arrived. They laid these on the floor of the baggage car and lifted + the man on to them. His name was Zeb Meader, and he was still insensible. + Austen Vane, with a peculiar set look upon his face, sat beside him all + the way into Ripton. He spoke only once, and that was to tell the + conductor to telegraph from Avalon to have the ambulance from St. Mary's + Hospital meet the train at Ripton. + </p> + <p> + The next day Hilary Vane, returning from one of his periodical trips to + the northern part of the State, invaded his son's office. + </p> + <p> + “What's this they tell me about your saving a man's life?” he asked, + sinking into one of the vacant chairs and regarding Austen with his + twinkling eyes. + </p> + <p> + “I don't know what they tell you,” Austen answered. “I didn't do anything + but get a tourniquet on his leg and have him put on the train.” + </p> + <p> + The Honourable Hilary grunted, and continued to regard his son. Then he + cut a piece of Honey Dew. + </p> + <p> + “Looks bad, does it?” he said. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” replied Austen, “it might have been done better. It was bungled. + In a death-trap as cleverly conceived as that crossing, with a down grade + approaching it, they ought to have got the horse too.” + </p> + <p> + The Honourable Hilary grunted again, and inserted the Honey Dew. He + resolved to ignore the palpable challenge in this remark, which was in + keeping with this new and serious mien in Austen. + </p> + <p> + “Get the names of witnesses?” was his next question. + </p> + <p> + “I took particular pains to do so.” + </p> + <p> + “Hand 'em over to Tooting. What kind of man is this Meagre?” + </p> + <p> + “He is rather meagre now,” said Austen, smiling a little. “His name's + Meader.” + </p> + <p> + “Is he likely to make a fuss?” + </p> + <p> + “I think he is,” said Austen. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said the Honourable Hilary, “we must have Ham Tooting hurry 'round + and fix it up with him as soon as he can talk, before one of these + cormorant lawyers gets his claw in him.” + </p> + <p> + Austen said nothing, and after some desultory conversation, in which he + knew how to indulge when he wished to conceal the fact that he was + baffled, the Honourable Hilary departed. That student of human nature, Mr. + Hamilton Tooting, a young man of a sporting appearance and a free + vocabulary, made the next attempt. It is a characteristic of Mr. Tooting's + kind that, in their efforts to be genial, they often use an awkward + diminutive of their friends' names. + </p> + <p> + “Hello, Aust,” said Mr. Tooting, “I dropped in to get those witnesses in + that Meagre accident, before I forget it.” + </p> + <p> + “I think I'll keep 'em,” said Austen, making a note out of the Revised + Statutes. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, all right, all right,” said Mr. Tooting, biting off a piece of his + cigar. “Going to handle the case yourself, are you?” + </p> + <p> + “I may.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm just as glad to have some of 'em off my hands, and this looks to me + like a nasty one. I don't like those Mercer people. The last farmer they + ran over there raised hell.” + </p> + <p> + “I shouldn't blame this one if he did, if he ever gets well enough,” said + Austen. Young Mr. Tooting paused with a lighted match halfway to his cigar + and looked at Austen shrewdly, and then sat down on the desk very close to + him. + </p> + <p> + “Say, Aust, it sometimes sickens a man to have to buy these fellows off. + What? Poor devils, they don't get anything like what they ought to get, do + they? Wait till you see how the Railroad Commission'll whitewash that + case. It makes a man want to be independent. What?” + </p> + <p> + “This sounds like virtue, Ham.” + </p> + <p> + “I've often thought, too,” said Mr. Tooting, “that a man could make more + money if he didn't wear the collar.” + </p> + <p> + “But not sleep as well, perhaps,” said Austen. + </p> + <p> + “Say, Aust, you're not on the level with me.” + </p> + <p> + “I hope to reach that exalted plane some day, Ham.” + </p> + <p> + “What's got into you?” demanded the usually clear-headed Mr. Tooting, now + a little bewildered. + </p> + <p> + “Nothing, yet,” said Austen, “but I'm thinking seriously of having a + sandwich and a piece of apple pie. Will you come along?” + </p> + <p> + They crossed the square together, Mr. Tooting racking a normally fertile + brain for some excuse to reopen the subject. Despairing of that, he + decided that any subject would do. + </p> + <p> + “That Humphrey Crewe up at Leith is smart—smart as paint,” he + remarked. “Do you know him?” + </p> + <p> + “I've seen him,” said Austen. “He's a young man, isn't he?” + </p> + <p> + “And natty. He knows a thing or two for a millionaire that don't have to + work, and he runs that place of his right up to the handle. You ought to + hear him talk about the tariff, and national politics. I was passing there + the other day, and he was walking around among the flowerbeds. 'Ain't your + name Tooting?' he hollered. I almost fell out of the buggy.” + </p> + <p> + “What did he want?” asked Austen, curiously. Mr. Tooting winked. + </p> + <p> + “Say, those millionaires are queer, and no mistake. You'd think a fellow + that only had to cut coupons wouldn't be lookin' for another job, wouldn't + you? He made me hitch my horse, and had me into his study, as he called + it, and gave me a big glass of whiskey and soda. A fellow with buttons and + a striped vest brought it on tiptoe. Then this Crewe gave me a long yellow + cigar with a band on it and told me what the State needed,—macadam + roads, farmers' institutes, forests, and God knows what. I told him all he + had to do was to get permission from old man Flint, and he could have + 'em.” + </p> + <p> + “What did he say to that?” + </p> + <p> + “He said Flint was an intimate friend of his. Then he asked me a whole + raft of questions about fellows in the neighbourhood I didn't know he'd + ever heard of. Say, he wants to go from Leith to the Legislature.” + </p> + <p> + “He can go for all I care,” said Austen, as he pushed open the door of the + restaurant. + </p> + <p> + For a few days Mr. Meader hung between life and death. But he came of a + stock which had for generations thrust its roots into the crevices of + granite, and was not easily killed by steam-engines. Austen Vane called + twice, and then made an arrangement with young Dr. Tredway (one of the + numerous Ripton Tredways whose money had founded the hospital) that he was + to see Mr. Meader as soon as he was able to sustain a conversation. Dr. + Tredway, by the way, was a bachelor, and had been Austen's companion on + many a boisterous expedition. + </p> + <p> + When Austen, in response to the doctor's telephone message, stood over the + iron bed in the spick-and-span men's ward of St. Mary's, a wave of that + intense feeling he had experienced at the accident swept over him. The + farmer's beard was overgrown, and the eyes looked up at him as from + caverns of suffering below the bandage. They were shrewd eyes, however, + and proved that Mr. Meader had possession of the five senses—nay, of + the six. Austen sat down beside the bed. + </p> + <p> + “Dr. Tredway tells me you are getting along finely,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “No thanks to the railrud,” answered Mr. Meader; “they done their best.” + </p> + <p> + “Did you hear any whistle or any bell?” Austen asked. + </p> + <p> + “Not a sound,” said Mr. Meader; “they even shut off their steam on that + grade.” + </p> + <p> + Austen Vane, like most men who are really capable of a deep sympathy, was + not an adept at expressing it verbally. Moreover, he knew enough of his + fellow-men to realize that a Puritan farmer would be suspicious of + sympathy. The man had been near to death himself, was compelled to spend + part of the summer, his bread-earning season, in a hospital, and yet no + appeal or word of complaint had crossed his lips. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Meader,” said Austen, “I came over here to tell you that in my + opinion you are entitled to heavy damages from the railroad, and to advise + you not to accept a compromise. They will send some one to you and offer + you a sum far below that which you ought in justice to receive, You ought + to fight this case.” + </p> + <p> + “How am I going to pay a lawyer, with a mortgage on my farm?” demanded Mr. + Meader. + </p> + <p> + “I'm a lawyer,” said Austen, “and if you'll take me, I'll defend you + without charge.” + </p> + <p> + “Ain't you the son of Hilary Vane?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “I've heard of him a good many times,” said Mr. Meader, as if to ask what + man had not. “You're railroad, ain't ye?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Meader gazed long and thoughtfully into the young man's face, and the + suspicion gradually faded from the farmer's blue eyes. + </p> + <p> + “I like your looks,” he said at last. “I guess you saved my life. I'm—I'm + much obliged to you.” + </p> + <p> + When Mr. Tooting arrived later in the day, he found Mr. Meader willing to + listen, but otherwise strangely non-committal. With native shrewdness, the + farmer asked him what office he came from, but did not confide in Mr. + Tooting the fact that Mr. Vane's son had volunteered to wring more money + from Mr. Vane's client than Mr. Tooting offered him. Considerably + bewildered, that gentleman left the hospital to report the affair to the + Honourable Hilary, who, at intervals during the afternoon, found himself + relapsing into speculation. + </p> + <p> + Inside of a somewhat unpromising shell, Mr. Zeb Meader was a human being, + and no mean judge of men and motives. As his convalescence progressed, + Austen Vane fell into the habit of dropping in from time to time to chat + with him, and gradually was rewarded by many vivid character sketches of + Mr. Meader's neighbours in Mercer and its vicinity. One afternoon, when + Austen came into the ward, he found at Mr. Meader's bedside a basket of + fruit which looked too expensive and tempting to have come from any + dealer's in Ripton. + </p> + <p> + “A lady came with that,” Mr. Meader explained. “I never was popular before + I was run over by the cars. She's be'n here twice. When she fetched it + to-day, I kind of thought she was up to some, game, and I didn't want to + take it.” + </p> + <p> + “Up to some game?” repeated Austen. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I don't know,” continued Mr. Meader, thoughtfully, “the woman here + tells me she comes regular in the summer time to see sick folks, but from + the way she made up to me I had an idea that she wanted something. But I + don't know. Thought I'd ask you. You see, she's railrud.” + </p> + <p> + “Railroad!” + </p> + <p> + “She's Flint's daughter.” + </p> + <p> + Austen laughed. + </p> + <p> + “I shouldn't worry about that,” he said. “If Mr. Flint sent his daughter + with fruit to everybody his railroad injures, she wouldn't have time to do + anything else. I doubt if Mr. Flint ever heard of your case.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Meader considered this, and calculated there was something in it. + </p> + <p> + “She was a nice, common young lady, and cussed if she didn't make me + laugh, she has such a funny way of talkin'. She wanted to know all about + you.” + </p> + <p> + “What did she want to know?” Austen exclaimed, not unnaturally. + </p> + <p> + “Well, she wanted to know about the accident, and I told her how you druv + up and screwed that thing around my leg and backed the train down. She was + a good deal took with that.” + </p> + <p> + “I think you are inclined to make too much of it,” said Austen. + </p> + <p> + Three days later, as he was about to enter the ward, Mr. Meader being now + the only invalid there, he heard a sound which made him pause in the + doorway. The sound was feminine laughter of a musical quality that struck + pleasantly on Austen's ear. Miss Victoria Flint was sated beside Mr. + Meader's bed, and qualified friendship had evidently been replaced by + intimacy since Austen's last visit, for Mr. Meader was laughing, too. + </p> + <p> + “And now I'm quite sure you have missed your vocation, Mr. Meader,” said + Victoria. “You would have made a fortune on the stage.” + </p> + <p> + “Me a play-actor!” exclaimed the invalid. “How much wages do they git?” + </p> + <p> + “Untold sums,” she declared, “if they can talk like you.” + </p> + <p> + “He kind of thought that story funny—same as you,” Mr. Meader + ruminated, and glanced up. “Drat me,” he remarked, “if he ain't a-comin' + now! I callated he'd run acrost you sometime.” + </p> + <p> + Victoria raised her eyes, sparkling with humour, and they met Austen's. + </p> + <p> + “We was just talkin' about you,” cried Mr. Meader, cordially; “come right + in.” He turned to Victoria. “I want to make you acquainted,” he said, + “with Austen Vane.” + </p> + <p> + “And won't you tell him who I am, Mr. Meader?” said Victoria. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said Mr. Meader, apologetically, “that was stupid of me—wahn't + it? But I callated he'd know. She's the daughter of the railrud president—the + 'one that was askin' about you.” + </p> + <p> + There was an instant's pause, and the colour stole into Victoria's cheeks. + Then she glanced at Austen and bit her lip-and laughed. Her laughter was + contagious. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose I shall have to confess that you have inspired my curiosity, + Mr. Vane,” she said. + </p> + <p> + Austen's face was sunburned, but it flushed a more vivid red under the + tan. It is needless to pretend that a man of his appearance and qualities + had reached the age of thirty-two without having listened to feminine + comments of which he was the exclusive subject. In this remark of + Victoria's, or rather in the manner in which she made it, he recognized a + difference. + </p> + <p> + “It is a tribute, then, to the histrionic talents of Mr. Meader, of which + you were speaking,” he replied laughingly. + </p> + <p> + Victoria glanced at him with interest as he looked down at Mr. Meader. + </p> + <p> + “And how is it to-day, Zeb?” he said. + </p> + <p> + “It ain't so bad as it might be—with sech folks as her and you + araound,” admitted Mr. Meader. “I'd almost agree to get run over again. + She was askin' about you, and that's a fact, and I didn't slander you, + neither. But I never callated to comprehend wimmen-folks.” + </p> + <p> + “Now, Mr. Meader,” said Victoria, reprovingly, but there were little + creases about her eyes, “don't be a fraud.” + </p> + <p> + “It's true as gospel,” declared the invalid; “they always got the better + of me. I had one of 'em after me once, when I was young and prosperin' + some.” + </p> + <p> + “And yet you have survived triumphant,” she exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + “There wahn't none of 'em like you,” said Mr. Meader, “or it might have + be'n different.” + </p> + <p> + Again her eyes irresistibly sought Austen's,—as though to share with + him the humour of this remark,—and they laughed together. Her + colour, so sensitive, rose again, but less perceptibly this time. Then she + got up. + </p> + <p> + “That's unfair, Mr. Meader!” she protested. + </p> + <p> + “I'll leave it to Austen,” said Mr. Meader, “if it ain't probable. He'd + ought to know.” + </p> + <p> + In spite of a somewhat natural embarrassment, Austen could not but + acknowledge to himself that Mr. Meader was right. With a womanly movement + which he thought infinitely graceful, Victoria leaned over the bed. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Meader,” she said, “I'm beginning to think it's dangerous for me to + come here twice a week to see you, if you talk this way. And I'm not a bit + surprised that that woman didn't get the better of you.” + </p> + <p> + “You hain't a-goin'!” he exclaimed. “Why, I callated—” + </p> + <p> + “Good-by,” she said quickly; “I'm glad to see that you are doing so well.” + She raised her head and looked at Austen in a curious, inscrutable way. + “Good-by, Mr. Vane,” she said; “I—I hope Mr. Blodgett has + recovered.” + </p> + <p> + Before he could reply she had vanished, and he was staring at the empty + doorway. The reference to the unfortunate Mr. Blodgett, after taking his + breath away, aroused in him an intense curiosity betraying, as it did, a + certain knowledge of past events in his life in the hitherto unknown + daughter of Augustus interest could she have in him? Such a Flint. What + question, from similar sources, has heightened the pulse of young men from + time immemorial. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0004" id="link2HCH0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IV. “TIMEO DANAOS” + </h2> + <p> + The proverbial little birds that carry news and prophecies through the air + were evidently responsible for an official-looking letter which Austen + received a few mornings later. On the letter-head was printed “The United + Northeastern Railroads,” and Mr. Austen Vane was informed that, by + direction of the president, the enclosed was sent to him in an entirely + complimentary sense. “The enclosed” was a ticket of red cardboard, and its + face informed him that he might travel free for the rest of the year. + Thoughtfully turning it over, he read on the back the following + inscription:—“It is understood that this pass is accepted by its + recipient as a retainer.” + </p> + <p> + Austen stared at it and whistled. Then he pushed back his chair, with the + pass in his hand, and hesitated. He seized a pen and wrote a few lines: + “Dear sir, I beg to return the annual pass over the Northeastern Railroads + with which you have so kindly honoured me”—when he suddenly changed + his mind again, rose, and made his way through the corridors to his + father's office. The Honourable Hilary was absorbed in his daily perusal + of the Guardian. + </p> + <p> + “Judge,” he asked, “is Mr. Flint up at his place this week?” + </p> + <p> + The Honourable Hilary coughed. + </p> + <p> + “He arrived yesterday on the three. Er—why?” + </p> + <p> + “I wanted to go up and thank him for this,” his son answered, holding up + the red piece of cardboard. “Mr. Flint is a very thoughtful man.” + </p> + <p> + The Honourable Hilary tried to look unconcerned, and succeeded. + </p> + <p> + “Sent you an annual, has he? Er—I don't know as I'd bother him + personally, Austen. Just a pleasant note of acknowledgment.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't flatter myself that my achievements in the law can be responsible + for it,” said Austen. “The favour must be due to my relationship with his + eminent chief counsel.” + </p> + <p> + Hilary Vane's keen eyes rested on his son for an instant. Austen was more + than ever an enigma to him. + </p> + <p> + “I guess relationship hasn't got much to do with business,” he replied. + “You have be'n doing—er—better than I expected.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, Judge,” said Austen, quietly. “I don't mind saying that I + would rather have your approbation than—this more substantial + recognition of merit.” + </p> + <p> + The Honourable Hilary's business was to deal with men, and by reason of + his ability in so doing he had made a success in life. He could judge + motives more than passably well, and play upon weaknesses. But he left + Austen's presence that morning vaguely uneasy, with a sense of having + received from his own son an initial defeat at a game of which he was a + master. Under the excuse of looking up some precedents, he locked his + doors to all comers for two hours, and paced his room. At one moment he + reproached himself for not having been frank; for not having told Austen + roundly that this squeamishness about a pass was unworthy of a strong man + of affairs; yes, for not having revealed to him the mysteries of railroad + practice from the beginning. But frankness was not an ingredient of the + Honourable Hilary's nature, and Austen was not the kind of man who would + accept a hint and a wink. Hilary Vane had formless forebodings, and found + himself for once in his life powerless to act. + </p> + <p> + The cost of living in Ripton was not so high that Austen Vane could not + afford to keep a horse and buggy. The horse, which he tended himself, was + appropriately called Pepper; Austen had found him in the hills, and he was + easily the finest animal in Ripton: so good, in fact, that Mr. Humphrey + Crewe (who believed he had an eye for horses) had peremptorily hailed + Austen from a motorcar and demanded the price, as was Mr. Crewe's wont + when he saw a thing he desired. He had been somewhat surprised and not + inconsiderably offended by the brevity and force of the answer which he + had received. + </p> + <p> + On the afternoon of the summer's day in which Austen had the conversation + with his father just related, Pepper was trotting at a round clip through + the soft and shady wood roads toward the town of Tunbridge; the word + “town” being used in the New England sense, as a piece of territory about + six miles by six. The fact that automobiles full of laughing people from + Leith hummed by occasionally made no apparent difference to Pepper, who + knew only the master hand on the reins; the reality that the wood roads + were climbing great hills the horse did not seem to feel. Pepper knew + every lane and by-path within twenty miles of Ripton, and exhibited such + surprise as a well-bred horse may when he was slowed down at length and + turned into a hard, blue-stone driveway under a strange granite arch with + the word “Fairview” cut in Gothic letters above it, and two great lamps in + wrought-iron brackets at the sides. It was Austen who made a note of the + gratings over the drains, and of the acres of orderly forest in a + mysterious and seemingly enchanted realm. Intimacy with domains was new to + him, and he began to experience an involuntary feeling of restraint which + was new to him likewise, and made him chafe in spite of himself. The + estate seemed to be the visible semblance of a power which troubled him. + </p> + <p> + Shortly after passing an avenue neatly labelled “Trade's Drive” the road + wound upwards through a ravine the sides of which were covered with a + dense shrubbery which had the air of having always been there, and yet + somehow looked expensive. At the top of the ravine was a sharp curve; and + Austen, drawing breath, found himself swung, as it were, into space, + looking off across miles of forest-covered lowlands to an ultramarine + mountain in the hazy south,—Sawanec. As if in obedience to a + telepathic command of his master, Pepper stopped. + </p> + <p> + Drinking his fill of this scene, Austen forgot an errand which was not + only disagreeable, but required some fortitude for its accomplishment. The + son had this in common with the Honourable Hilary—he hated heroics; + and the fact that the thing smacked of heroics was Austen's only + deterrent. And then there was a woman in this paradise! These gradual + insinuations into his revery at length made him turn. A straight avenue of + pear-shaped, fifteen-year-old maples led to the house, a massive colonial + structure of wood that stretched across the shelf; and he had tightened + the reins and started courageously up the avenue when he perceived that it + ended in a circle on which there was no sign of a hitching-post. And, + worse than this, on the balconied, uncovered porch which he would have to + traverse to reach the doorway he saw the sheen and glimmer of women's + gowns grouped about wicker tables, and became aware that his approach was + the sole object of the scrutiny of an afternoon tea party. + </p> + <p> + As he reached the circle it was a slight relief to learn that Pepper was + the attraction. No horse knew better than Pepper when he was being + admired, and he arched his neck and lifted his feet and danced in the + sheer exhilaration of it. A smooth-faced, red-cheeked gentleman in gray + flannels leaned over the balustrade and made audible comments in a + penetrating voice which betrayed the fact that he was Mr. Humphrey Crewe. + </p> + <p> + “Saw him on the street in Ripton last year. Good hock action, hasn't he?—that's + rare in trotters around here. Tried to buy him. Feller wouldn't sell. His + name's Vane—he's drivin' him now.” + </p> + <p> + A lady of a somewhat commanding presence was beside him. She was perhaps + five and forty, her iron-gray hair was dressed to perfection, her figure + all that Parisian art could make it, and she was regarding Austen with + extreme deliberation through the glasses which she had raised to a + high-bridged nose. + </p> + <p> + “Politics is certainly your career, Humphrey,” she remarked, “you have + such a wonderful memory for faces. I don't see how he does it, do you, + Alice?” she demanded of a tall girl beside her, who was evidently her + daughter, but lacked her personality. + </p> + <p> + “I don't know,” said Alice. + </p> + <p> + “It's because I've been here longer than anybody else, Mrs. Pomfret,” + answered Mr. Crewe, not very graciously, “that's all. Hello.” This last to + Austen. + </p> + <p> + “Hello,” said Austen. + </p> + <p> + “Who do you want to see?” inquired Mr. Crewe, with the admirable tact for + which he was noted. + </p> + <p> + Austen looked at him for the first time. + </p> + <p> + “Anybody who will hold my horse,” he answered quietly. + </p> + <p> + By this time the conversation had drawn the attention of the others at the + tables, and one or two smiled at Austen's answer. Mrs. Flint, with a “Who + is it?” arose to repel a social intrusion. She was an overdressed lady, + inclining to embonpoint, but traces of the Rose of Sharon were still + visible. + </p> + <p> + “Why don't you drive 'round to the stables?” suggested Mr. Crewe, unaware + of a smile. + </p> + <p> + Austen did not answer. He was, in fact, looking towards the doorway, and + the group on the porch were surprised to see a gleam of mirthful + understanding start in his eyes. An answering gleam was in Victoria's, who + had at that moment, by a singular coincidence, come out of the house. She + came directly down the steps and out on the gravel, and held her hand to + him in the buggy, and he flushed with pleasure as he grasped it. + </p> + <p> + “How do you do, Mr. Vane?” she said. “I am so glad you have called. + Humphrey, just push the stable button, will you?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Crewe obeyed with no very good grace, while the tea-party went back to + their seats. Mrs. Flint supposed he had come to sell Victoria the horse; + while Mrs. Pomfret, who had taken him in from crown to boots, remarked + that he looked very much like a gentleman. + </p> + <p> + “I came to see your father for a few moments—on business,” Austen + explained. + </p> + <p> + She lifted her face to his with a second searching look. + </p> + <p> + “I'll take you to him,” she said. + </p> + <p> + By this time a nimble groom had appeared from out o a shrubbery path and + seized Pepper's head. Austen alighted and followed Victoria into a great, + cool hallway, and through two darkened rooms, bewilderingly furnished and + laden with the scent of flowers, into a narrow passage beyond. She led the + way simply, not speaking, and her silence seemed to betoken the + completeness of an understanding between them, as of a long acquaintance. + </p> + <p> + In a plain white-washed room, behind a plain oaken desk, sat Mr. Flint—a + plain man. Austen thought he would have known him had he seen him on the + street. The other things in the room were letter-files, a safe, a + long-distance telephone, and a thin private secretary with a bend in his + back. Mr. Flint looked up from his desk, and his face, previously bereft + of illumination, lighted when he saw his daughter. Austen liked that in + him. + </p> + <p> + “Well, Vic, what is it now?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Austen Vane to see you,” said Victoria, and with a quick glance at + Austen she left him standing on the threshold. Mr. Flint rose. His eyes + were deep-set in a square, hard head, and he appeared to be taking Austen + in without directly looking at him; likewise, one felt that Mr. Flint's + handshake was not an absolute gift of his soul. + </p> + <p> + “How do you do, Mr. Vane? I don't remember ever to have had the pleasure + of seeing you, although your father and I have been intimately connected + for many years.” + </p> + <p> + So the president's manner was hearty, but not the substance. It came, + Austen thought, from a rarity of meeting with men on a disinterested + footing; and he could not but wonder how Mr. Flint would treat the angels + in heaven if he ever got there, where there were no franchises to be had. + Would he suspect them of designs upon his hard won harp and halo? Austen + did not dislike Mr. Flint; the man's rise, his achievements, his affection + for his daughter, he remembered. But he was also well aware that Mr. Flint + had thrown upon him the onus of the first move in a game which the + railroad president was used to playing every day. The dragon was on his + home ground and had the choice of weapons. + </p> + <p> + “I do not wish to bother you long,” said Austen. + </p> + <p> + “No bother,” answered Mr. Flint, “no bother to make the acquaintance of + the son of my old friend, Hilary Vane. Sit down—sit down. And while + I don't believe any man should depend upon his father to launch him in the + world, yet it must be a great satisfaction to you, Mr. Vane, to have such + a father. Hilary Vane and I have been intimately associated for many + years, and my admiration for him has increased with every year. It is to + men of his type that the prosperity, the greatness, of this nation is + largely due,—conservative, upright, able, content to confine himself + to the difficult work for which he is so eminently fitted, without + spectacular meddling in things in which he can have no concern. Therefore + I welcome the opportunity to know you, sir, for I understand that you have + settled down to follow in his footsteps and that you will make a name for + yourself. I know the independence of young men—I was young once + myself. But after all, Mr. Vane, experience is the great teacher, and + perhaps there is some little advice which an old man can give you that may + be of service. As your father's son, it is always at your disposal. Have a + cigar.” + </p> + <p> + The thin secretary continued to flit about the room, between the + letter-files and the desk. Austen had found it infinitely easier to shoot + Mr. Blodgett than to engage in a duel with the president of the United + Railroad. + </p> + <p> + “I smoke a pipe,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “Too many young men smoke cigars—and those disgusting cigarettes,” + said Mr. Flint, with conviction. “There are a lot of worthless young men + in these days, anyhow. They come to my house and loaf and drink and smoke, + and talk a lot of nonsense about games and automobiles and clubs, and + cumber the earth generally. There's a young man named Crewe over at Leith, + for instance—you may have seen him. Not that he's dissipated—but + he don't do anything but talk about railroads and the stock market to make + you sick, and don't know any more about 'em than my farmer.” + </p> + <p> + During this diatribe Austen saw his opening growing smaller and smaller. + If he did not make a dash for it, it would soon be closed entirely. + </p> + <p> + “I received a letter this morning, Mr. Flint, enclosing me an annual pass—” + </p> + <p> + “Did Upjohn send you one?” Mr. Flint cut in; “he ought to have done so + long ago. It was probably an oversight that he did not, Mr. Vane. We try + to extend the courtesies of the road to persons who are looked up to in + their communities. The son of Hilary Vane is at all times welcome to one.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Flint paused to light his cigar, and Austen summoned his resolution. + Second by second it was becoming more and more difficult and seemingly + more ungracious to return a gift so graciously given, a gift of no + inconsiderable intrinsic value. Moreover, Mr. Flint had ingeniously + contrived almost to make the act, in Austen's eyes, that of a picayune + upstart. Who was he to fling back an annual pass in the face of the + president of the Northeastern Railroads? + </p> + <p> + “I had first thought of writing you a letter, Mr. Flint,” he said, “but it + seemed to me that, considering your relations with my father, the proper + thing to do was to come to you and tell you why I cannot take the pass.” + </p> + <p> + The thin secretary paused in his filing, and remained motionless with his + body bent over the drawer. + </p> + <p> + “Why you cannot take it, Mr. Vane?” said the railroad president. “I'm + afraid I don't understand.” + </p> + <p> + “I appreciate the—the kindness,” said Austen, “and I will try to + explain.” He drew the red cardboard from his pocket and turned it over. + “On the back of this is printed, in small letters, 'It is understood that + this pass is accepted by the recipient as a retainer.'” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” Mr. Flint interrupted, smiling somewhat blandly, “how much money + do you think that pass would save an active young lawyer in a year? Is + three hundred dollars too much? Three hundred dollars is not an + insignificant sum to a young man on the threshold of his practice, is it?” + </p> + <p> + Austen looked at Mr. Flint. + </p> + <p> + “Any sum is insignificant when it restricts a lawyer from the acceptance + of just causes, Mr. Flint. As I understand the matter, it is the custom of + your railroad to send these passes to the young lawyers of the State the + moment they begin to give signs of ability. This past would prevent me + from serving clients who might have righteous claims against your + railroads, and—permit me to speak frankly—in my opinion the + practice tends to make it difficult for poor people who have been injured + to get efficient lawyers.” + </p> + <p> + “Your own father is retained by the railroad,” said Mr. Flint. + </p> + <p> + “As their counsel,” answered Austen. “I have a pride in my profession, Mr. + Flint, as no doubt you have in yours. If I should ever acquire sufficient + eminence to be sought as counsel for a railroad, I should make my own + terms with it. I should not allow its management alone to decide upon the + value of my retainer, and my services in its behalf would be confined + strictly to professional ones.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Flint drummed on the table. + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean by that?” he demanded. + </p> + <p> + “I mean that I would not engage, for a fee or a pass, to fight the + political battles of a railroad, or undertake any political manipulation + in its behalf whatever.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Flint leaned forward aggressively. + </p> + <p> + “How long do you think a railroad would pay dividends if it did not adopt + some means of defending itself from the blackmail politician of the State + legislatures, Mr. Vane? The railroads of which I have the honour to be + president pay a heavy tag in this and other States. We would pay a much + heavier one if we didn't take precautions to protect ourselves. But I do + not intend to quarrel with you, Mr. Vane,” he continued quickly, + perceiving that Austen was about to answer him, “nor do I wish to leave + you with the impression that the Northeastern Railroads meddle unduly in + politics.” + </p> + <p> + Austen knew not how to answer. He had not gone there to discuss this last + and really great question with Mr. Flint, but he wondered whether the + president actually thought him the fledgling he proclaimed. Austen laid + his pass on Mr. Flint's desk, and rose. + </p> + <p> + “I assure you, Mr. Flint, that the spirit which prompted my visit was not + a contentious one. I cannot accept the pass, simply because I do not wish + to be retained.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Flint eyed him. There was a mark of dignity, of silent power, on this + tall scapegrace of a son of Hilary Vane that the railroad president had + missed at first—probably because he had looked only for the + scapegrace. Mr. Flint ardently desired to treat the matter in the trifling + aspect in which he believed he saw it, to carry it off genially. But an + instinct not yet formulated told the president that he was face to face + with an enemy whose potential powers were not to be despised, and he + bristled in spite of himself. + </p> + <p> + “There is no statute I know of by which a lawyer can be compelled to + accept a retainer against his will, Mr. Vane,” he replied, and overcame + himself with an effort. “But I hope that you will permit me,” he added in + another tone, “as an old friend of your father's and as a man of some + little experience in the world, to remark that intolerance is a + characteristic of youth. I had it in the days of Mr. Isaac D. Worthington, + whom you do not remember. I am not addicted to flattery, but I hope and + believe you have a career before you. Talk to your father. Study the + question on both sides,—from the point of view of men who are + honestly trying, in the face of tremendous difficulties, to protect + innocent stockholders as well as to conduct a corporation in the interests + of the people at large, and for their general prosperity. Be charitable, + young man, and judge not hastily.” + </p> + <p> + Years before, when poor Sarah Austen had adorned the end of his table, + Hilary Vane had raised his head after the pronouncement of grace to + surprise a look in his wife's eyes which strangely threw him into a white + heat of anger. That look (and he at intervals had beheld it afterwards) + was the true presentment of the soul of the woman whose body was his. It + was not—as Hilary Vane thought it—a contempt for the practice + of thanking one's Maker for daily bread, but a contempt for cant of one + who sees the humour in cant. A masculine version of that look Mr. Flint + now beheld in the eyes of Austen Vane, and the enraging effect on the + president of the United Railroads was much the same as it had been on his + chief counsel. Who was this young man of three and thirty to agitate him + so? He trembled, though not visibly, yet took Austen's hand mechanically. + </p> + <p> + “Good day, Mr. Vane,” he said; “Mr. Freeman will help you to find your + horse.” + </p> + <p> + The thin secretary bowed, and before he reached the door into the passage + Mr. Flint had opened another at the back of the room and stepped out on a + close-cropped lawn flooded with afternoon sunlight. In the passage Austen + perceived a chair, and in the chair was seated patiently none other than + Mr. Brush Bascom—political Duke of Putnam. Mr. Bascom's little agate + eyes glittered in the dim light. + </p> + <p> + “Hello, Austen,” he said, “since when have you took to comin' here?” + </p> + <p> + “It's a longer trip from Putnam than from Ripton, Brush,” said Austen, and + passed on, leaving Mr. Bascom with a puzzled mind. Something very like a + smile passed over Mr. Freeman's face as he led the way silently out of a + side entrance and around the house. The circle of the drive was empty, the + tea-party had gone—and Victoria. Austen assured himself that her + disappearance relieved him: having virtually quarrelled with her father, + conversation would have been awkward; and yet he looked for her. + </p> + <p> + They found the buggy and Pepper in the paved courtyard of the stables. As + Austen took the reins the secretary looked up at him, his mild blue eyes + burning with an unsuspected fire. He held out his hand. + </p> + <p> + “I want to congratulate you,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “What for?” asked Austen, taking the hand in some embarrassment. + </p> + <p> + “For speaking like a man,” said the secretary, and he turned on his heel + and left him. + </p> + <p> + This strange action, capping, as it did, a stranger experience, gave + Austen food for thought as he let Pepper take his own pace down the + trade's road. Presently he got back into the main drive where it clung to + a steep, forest-covered side hill, when his attention was distracted by + the sight of a straight figure in white descending amidst the foliage + ahead. His instinctive action was to pull Pepper down to a walk, scarcely + analyzing his motives; then he had time, before reaching the spot where + their paths would cross, to consider and characteristically to enjoy the + unpropitious elements arrayed against a friendship with Victoria Flint. + </p> + <p> + She halted on a flagstone of the descending path some six feet above the + roadway, and stood expectant. The Rose of Sharon, five and twenty years + before, would have been coy—would have made believe to have done it + by accident. But the Rose of Sharon, with all her beauty, would have had + no attraction for Austen Vane. Victoria had much of her mother's good + looks, the figure of a Diana, and her clothes were of a severity and + correctness in keeping with her style; they merely added to the sum total + of the effect upon Austen. Of course he stopped the buggy immediately + beneath her, and her first question left him without any breath. No woman + he had ever known seized the essentials as she did. + </p> + <p> + “What have you been doing to my father?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “Why?” exclaimed Austen. + </p> + <p> + “Because he's in such a bad temper,” said Victoria. “You must have put him + in it. It can't be possible that you came all the way up here to quarrel + with him. Nobody ever dares to quarrel with him.” + </p> + <p> + “I didn't come up to quarrel with him,” said Austen. + </p> + <p> + “What's the trouble?” asked Victoria. + </p> + <p> + The humour of this question was too much for him, and he laughed. + Victoria's eyes laughed a little, but there was a pucker in her forehead. + </p> + <p> + “Won't you tell me?” she demanded, “or must I get it out of him?” + </p> + <p> + “I am afraid,” said Austen, slowly, “that you must get it out of him—if + he hasn't forgotten it.” + </p> + <p> + “Forgotten it, dear old soul!” cried Victoria. “I met him just now and + tried to make him look at the new Guernseys, and he must have been + disturbed quite a good deal when he's cross as a bear to me. He really + oughtn't to be upset like that, Mr. Vane, when he comes up here to rest. I + am afraid that you are rather a terrible person, although you look so + nice. Won't you tell me what you did to him?” + </p> + <p> + Austen was non-plussed. + </p> + <p> + “Nothing intentional,” he answered earnestly, “but it wouldn't be fair to + your father if I gave you my version of a business conversation that + passed between us, would it?” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps not,” said Victoria. She sat down on the flagstone with her elbow + on her knee and her chin in her hand, and looked at him thoughtfully. He + knew well enough that a wise general would have retreated—horse, + foot, and baggage; but Pepper did not stir. + </p> + <p> + “Do you know,” said Victoria, “I have an idea you came up here about Zeb + Meader.” + </p> + <p> + “Zeb Meader!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. I told my father about him,—how you rescued him, and how you + went to see him in the hospital, and what a good man he is, and how poor.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, did you!” exclaimed Austen. + </p> + <p> + “Yes. And I told him the accident wasn't Zeb's fault, that the train + didn't whistle or ring, and that the crossing was a blind one.” + </p> + <p> + “And what did he say?” asked Austen, curiously. + </p> + <p> + “He said that on a railroad as big as his something of the kind must + happen occasionally. And he told me if Zeb didn't make a fuss and act + foolishly, he would have no cause to regret it.” + </p> + <p> + “And did you tell Zeb?” asked Austen. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” Victoria admitted, “but I'm sorry I did, now.” + </p> + <p> + “What did Zeb say?” + </p> + <p> + Victoria laughed in spite of herself, and gave a more or less exact though + kindly imitation of Mr. Meader's manner. + </p> + <p> + “He said that wimmen-folks had better stick to the needle and the duster, + and not go pokin' about law business that didn't concern 'em. But the + worst of it was,” added Victoria, with some distress, “he won't accept any + more fruit. Isn't he silly? He won't get it into his head that I give him + the fruit, and not my father. I suspect that he actually believes my + father sent me down there to tell him that.” + </p> + <p> + Austen was silent, for the true significance of this apparently obscure + damage case to the Northeastern Railroads was beginning to dawn on him. + The public was not in the best of humours towards railroads: there was + trouble about grade crossings, and Mr. Meader's mishap and the manner of + his rescue by the son of the corporation counsel had given the accident a + deplorable publicity. Moreover, if it had dawned on Augustus Flint that + the son of Hilary Vane might prosecute the suit, it was worth while taking + a little pains with Mr. Meader and Mr. Austen Vane. Certain small fires + have been known to light world-wide conflagrations. + </p> + <p> + “What are you thinking about?” asked Victoria. “It isn't at all polite to + forget the person you are talking to.” + </p> + <p> + “I haven't forgotten you,” said Austen, with a smile. How could he—sitting + under her in this manner? + </p> + <p> + “Besides,” said Victoria, mollified, “you haven't an answered my + question.” + </p> + <p> + “Which question?” + </p> + <p> + She scrutinized him thoughtfully, and with feminine art made the kind of + an attack that rarely fails. + </p> + <p> + “Why are you such an enigma, Mr. Vane?” she demanded. “Is it because + you're a lawyer, or because you've been out West and seen so much of life + and shot so many people?” + </p> + <p> + Austen laughed, yet he had tingling symptoms because she showed enough + interest in him to pronounce him a riddle. But he instantly became serious + as the purport of the last charge came home to him. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose I am looked upon as a sort of Jesse James,” he said. “As it + happens, I have never shot but one man, and I didn't care very much for + that.” + </p> + <p> + Victoria got up and came down a step and gave him her hand. He took it, + nor was he the first to relinquish the hold; and a colour rose delicately + in her face as she drew her fingers away. + </p> + <p> + “I didn't mean to offend you,” she said. + </p> + <p> + “You didn't offend me,” he replied quickly. “I merely wished you to know + that I wasn't a brigand.” + </p> + <p> + Victoria smiled. + </p> + <p> + “I really didn't think so—you are much too solemn. I have to go now, + and—you haven't told me anything.” + </p> + <p> + She crossed the road and began to descend the path on the other side. + Twice he glanced back, after he had started, and once surprised her poised + lightly among the leaves, looking over her shoulder. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0005" id="link2HCH0005"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER V. THE PARTING OF THE WAYS + </h2> + <p> + The next time Austen visited the hospital Mr. Meader had a surprise in + store for him. After passing the time of day, as was his custom, the + patient freely discussed the motives which had led him to refuse any more + of Victoria's fruit. + </p> + <p> + “I hain't got nothing against her,” he declared; “I tried to make that + plain. She's as nice and common a young lady as I ever see, and I don't + believe she had a thing to do with it. But I suspicioned they was up to + somethin' when she brought them baskets. And when she give me the message + from old Flint, I was sure of it.” + </p> + <p> + “Miss Flint was entirely innocent, I'm sure,” said Austen, emphatically. + </p> + <p> + “If I could see old Flint, I'd tell him what I thought of him usin' + wimmen-folks to save 'em money,” said Mr. Meader. “I knowed she wahn't + that kind. And then that other thing come right on top of it.” + </p> + <p> + “What other thing?” + </p> + <p> + “Say,” demanded Mr. Meader, “don't you know?” + </p> + <p> + “I know nothing,” said Austen. + </p> + <p> + “Didn't know Hilary Vane's be'n here?” + </p> + <p> + “My father!” Austen ejaculated. + </p> + <p> + “Gittin' after me pretty warm, so they be. Want to know what my price is + now. But say, I didn't suppose your fayther'd come here without lettin' + you know.” + </p> + <p> + Austen was silent. The truth was that for a few moments he could not + command himself sufficiently to speak. + </p> + <p> + “He is the chief counsel for the road,” he said at length; “I am not + connected with it.” + </p> + <p> + “I guess you're on the right track. He's a pretty smooth talker, your + fayther. Just dropped in to see how I be, since his son was interested. + Talked a sight of law gibberish I didn't understand. Told me I didn't have + much of a case; said the policy of the railrud was to be liberal, and + wanted to know what I thought I ought to have.” + </p> + <p> + “Well?” said Austen, shortly. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said Mr. Mender, “he didn't git a mite of satisfaction out of me. + I've seen enough of his kind of folks to know how to deal with 'em, and I + told him so. I asked him what they meant by sending that slick Mr. Tooting + 'raound to offer me five hundred dollars. I said I was willin' to trust my + case on that crossin' to a jury.” + </p> + <p> + Austen smiled, in spite of his mingled emotions. + </p> + <p> + “What else did Mr. Vane say?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “Not a great sight more. Said a good many folks were foolish enough to + spend money and go to law when they'd done better to trust to the + liberality of the railrud. Liberality! Adams' widow done well to trust + their liberality, didn't she? He wanted to know one more thing, but I + didn't give him any satisfaction.” + </p> + <p> + “What was that?” + </p> + <p> + “I couldn't tell you how he got 'raound to it. Guess he never did, quite. + He wanted to know what lawyer was to have my case. Wahn't none of his + affair, and I callated if you'd wanted him to know just yet, you'd have + toad him.” + </p> + <p> + Austen laid his hand on the farmer's, as he rose to go. + </p> + <p> + “Zeb,” he said, “I never expect to have a more exemplary client.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Mender shot a glance at him. + </p> + <p> + “Mebbe I spoke a mite too free about your fayther, Austen,” he said; “you + and him seem kind of different.” + </p> + <p> + “The Judge and I understand each other,” answered Austen. + </p> + <p> + He had got as far as the door, when he stopped, swung on his heel, and + came back to the bedside. + </p> + <p> + “It's my duty to tell you, Zeb, that in order to hush this thing up they + may offer you more than you can get from a jury. In that case I should + have to advise you to accept.” + </p> + <p> + He was aware that, while he made this statement, Zeb Meader's eyes were + riveted on him, and he knew that the farmer was weighing him in the + balance. + </p> + <p> + “Sell out?” exclaimed Mr. Meader. “You advise me to sell out?” + </p> + <p> + Austen did not get angry. He understood this man and the people from which + he sprang. + </p> + <p> + “The question is for you to decide—whether you can get more money by + a settlement.” + </p> + <p> + “Money!” cried Zeb Meader, “I have found it pretty hard to git, but + there's some things I won't do for it. There's a reason why they want this + case hushed up, the way they've be'n actin'. I ain't lived in Mercer and + Putnam County all my life for nothin'. Hain't I seen 'em run their dirty + politics there under Brush Bascom for the last twenty-five years? There's + no man has an office or a pass in that county but what Bascom gives it to + him, and Bascom's the railrud tool.” Suddenly Zeb raised himself in bed. + “Hev' they be'n tamperin' with you?” he demanded. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” answered Austen, dispassionately. He had hardly heard what Zeb had + said; his mind had been going onward. “Yes. They sent me an annual pass, + and I took it back.” + </p> + <p> + Zeb Meader did not speak for a few moments. + </p> + <p> + “I guess I was a little hasty, Austen,” he said at length. + </p> + <p> + “I might have known you wouldn't sell out. If you're' willin' to take the + risk, you tell 'em ten thousand dollars wouldn't tempt me.” + </p> + <p> + “All right, Zeb,” said Austen. + </p> + <p> + He left the hospital and struck out across the country towards the slopes + of Sawanec, climbed them, and stood bareheaded in the evening light, + gazing over the still, wide valley northward to the wooded ridges where + Leith and Fairview lay hidden. He had come to the parting of the ways of + life, and while he did not hesitate to choose his path, a Vane + inheritance, though not dominant, could not fail at such a juncture to + point out the pleasantness of conformity. Austen's affection for Hilary + Vane was real; the loneliness of the elder man appealed to the son, who + knew that his father loved him in his own way. He dreaded the wrench + there. + </p> + <p> + And nature, persuasive in that quarter, was not to be stilled in a field + more completely her own. The memory and suppliance of a minute will scarce + suffice one of Austen's temperament for a lifetime; and his eyes, flying + with the eagle high across the valley, searched the velvet folds of the + ridges, as they lay in infinite shades of green in the level light, for + the place where the enchanted realm might be. Just what the state of his + feelings were at this time towards Victoria Flint is too vague—accurately + to be painted, but he was certainly not ready to give way to the + attraction he felt for her. His sense of humour intervened if he allowed + himself to dream; there was a certain folly in pursuing the acquaintance, + all the greater now that he was choosing the path of opposition to the + dragon. A young woman, surrounded as she was, could be expected to know + little of the subtleties of business and political morality: let him take + Zeb Meader's case, and her loyalty would naturally be with her father,—if + she thought of Austen Vane at all. + </p> + <p> + And yet the very contradiction of her name, Victoria joined with Flint, + seemed to proclaim that she did not belong to her father or to the Rose of + Sharon. Austen permitted himself to dwell, as he descended the mountain in + the gathering darkness, upon the fancy of the springing of a generation of + ideals from a generation of commerce which boded well for the Republic. + And Austen Vane, in common with that younger and travelled generation, + thought largely in terms of the Republic. Pepper County and Putnam County + were all one to him—pieces of his native land. And as such, + redeemable. + </p> + <p> + It was long past the supper hour when he reached the house in Hanover + Street; but Euphrasia, who many a time in days gone by had fared forth + into the woods to find Sarah Austen, had his supper hot for him. + Afterwards he lighted his pipe and went out into the darkness, and + presently perceived a black figure seated meditatively on the granite + doorstep. + </p> + <p> + “Is that you, Judge?” said Austen. + </p> + <p> + The Honourable Hilary grunted in response. + </p> + <p> + “Be'n on another wild expedition, I suppose.” + </p> + <p> + “I went up Sawanec to stretch my legs a little,” Austen answered, sitting + down beside his father. + </p> + <p> + “Funny,” remarked the Honourable Hilary, “I never had this mania for + stretchin' my legs after I was grown.” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said Austen, “I like to go into the woods and climb the hills and + get aired out once in a while.” + </p> + <p> + “I heard of your gettin' aired out yesterday, up Tunbridge way,” said the + Honourable Hilary. + </p> + <p> + “I supposed you would hear of it,” answered Austen. + </p> + <p> + “I was up there to-day. Gave Mr. Flint your pass did you?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Didn't see fit to mention it to me first—did you? Said you were + going up to thank him for it.” + </p> + <p> + Austen considered this. + </p> + <p> + “You have put me in the wrong, Judge,” he replied after a little. “I made + that remark ironically. I I am afraid we cannot agree on the motive which + prompted me.” + </p> + <p> + “Your conscience a little finer than your father's—is it?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Austen, “I don't honestly think it is. I've thought a good deal + in the last few years about the difference in our ways of looking at + things. I believe that two men who try to be honest may conscientiously + differ. But I also believe that certain customs have gradually grown up in + railroad practice which are more or less to be deplored from the point of + view of the honour of the profession. I think they are not perhaps—realized + even by the eminent men in the law.” + </p> + <p> + “Humph!” said the Honourable Hilary. But he did not press his son for the + enumeration of these customs. After all the years he had disapproved of + Austen's deeds it seemed strange indeed to be called to account by the + prodigal for his own. Could it be that this boy whom he had so often + chastised took a clearer view of practical morality than himself? It was + preposterous. But why the uneasiness of the past few years? Why had he + more than once during that period, for the first time in his life, + questioned a hitherto absolute satisfaction in his position of chief + counsel for the Northeastern Railroads? Why had he hesitated to initiate + his son into many of the so-called duties of a railroad lawyer? Austen had + never verbally arraigned those duties until to-night. + </p> + <p> + Contradictory as it may seem, irritating as it was to the Honourable + Hilary Vane, he experienced again the certain faint tingling of pride as + when Austen had given him the dispassionate account of the shooting of Mr. + Blodgett; and this tingling only served to stiffen Hilary Vane more than + ever. A lifelong habit of admitting nothing and a lifelong pride made the + acknowledgment of possible professional lapses for the benefit of his + employer not to be thought of. He therefore assumed the same attitude as + had Mr. Flint, and forced the burden of explanation upon Austen, relying + surely on the disinclination of his son to be specific. And Austen, + considering his relationship, could not be expected to fathom these mental + processes. + </p> + <p> + “See here, Judge,” he said, greatly embarrassed by the real affection he + felt, “I don't want to seem like a prig and appear to be sitting in + judgment upon a man of your experience and position especially since I + have the honour to be your son, and have made a good deal of trouble by a + not irreproachable existence. Since we have begun on the subject, however, + I think I ought to tell you that I have taken the case of Zeb Meader + against the Northeastern Railroads.” + </p> + <p> + “Wahn't much need of telling me, was there?” remarked the Honourable + Hilary, dryly. “I'd have found it out as soon as anybody else.” + </p> + <p> + “There was this need of telling you,” answered Austen, steadily, “although + I am not in partnership with you, I bear your name. And in-as-much as I am + to have a suit against your client, it has occurred to me that you would + like me to move—elsewhere.” + </p> + <p> + The Honourable Hilary was silent for a long time. + </p> + <p> + “Want to move—do YOU? Is that it?” + </p> + <p> + “Only because my presence may embarrass you.” + </p> + <p> + “That wahn't in the contract,” said the Honourable Hilary; “you've got a + right to take any fool cases you've a mind to. Folks know pretty well I'm + not mixed up in 'em.” + </p> + <p> + Austen did not smile; he could well understand his father's animus in this + matter. As he looked up at the gable of his old home against the stars, he + did not find the next sentence any easier. + </p> + <p> + “And then,” he continued, “in taking, a course so obviously against your + wishes and judgment it occurred to me—well, that I was eating at + your table and sleeping in your house.” + </p> + <p> + To his son's astonishment, Hilary Vane turned on him almost truculently. + </p> + <p> + “I thought the time'd come when you'd want to go off again,—gypsying,” + he cried. + </p> + <p> + “I'd stay right here in Ripton, Judge. I believe my work is in this + State.” + </p> + <p> + The Honour could see through a millstone with a hole in it. The effect of + Austen's assertion on him was a declaration that the mission of the one + was to tear down what the other had so laboriously built up. And yet a + growing dread of Hilary Vane's had been the loneliness of declining years + in that house should Austen leave it again, never to return. + </p> + <p> + “I knew you had this Meader business in mind,” he said. “I knew you had + fanciful notions about—some things. Never told you I didn't want you + here, did I?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Austen, “but—” + </p> + <p> + “Would have told you if I hadn't wanted you—wouldn't I?” + </p> + <p> + “I hope so, Judge,” said Austen, who understood something of the feeling + which underlay this brusqueness. That knowledge made matters all the + harder for him. + </p> + <p> + “It was your mother's house—you're entitled to that, anyway,” said + the Honourable Hilary, “but what I want to know is, why you didn't advise + that eternal fool of a Meader to accept what we offered him. You'll never + get a county jury to give as much.” + </p> + <p> + “I did advise him to accept it,” answered Austen. + </p> + <p> + “What's the matter with him?” the Honourable Hilary demanded. + </p> + <p> + “Well, judge, if you really want my opinion, an honest farmer like Meader + is suspicious of any corporation which has such zealous and loyal + retainers as Ham Tooting and Brush Bascom.” And Austen thought with a + return of the pang which had haunted him at intervals throughout the + afternoon, that he might almost have added to these names that of Hilary + Vane. Certainly Zeb Meader had not spared his father. + </p> + <p> + “Life,” observed the Honourable Hilary, unconsciously using a phrase from + the 'Book of Arguments,' “is a survival of the fittest.” + </p> + <p> + “How do you define 'the fittest?'” asked Austen. “Are they the men who + have the not unusual and certainly not exalted gift of getting money from + their fellow creatures by the use of any and all weapons that may be at + hand? who believe the acquisition of wealth to be exempt from the practice + of morality? Is Mr. Flint your example of the fittest type to exist and + survive, or Gladstone or Wilberforce or Emerson or Lincoln?” + </p> + <p> + “Emerson!” cried the Honourable Hilary, the name standing out in red + letters before his eyes. He had never read a line of the philosopher's + writings, not even the charge to “hitch your wagon to a star” (not in the + “Book of Arguments”). Sarah Austen had read Emerson in the woods, and her + son's question sounded so like the unintelligible but unanswerable flashes + with which the wife had on rare occasions opposed the husband's authority + that Hilary Vane found his temper getting the best of him—The name + of Emerson was immutably fixed in his mind as the synonym for + incomprehensible, foolish habits and beliefs. “Don't talk Emerson to me,” + he exclaimed. “And as for Brush Bascom, I've known him for thirty years, + and he's done as much for the Republican party as any man in this State.” + </p> + <p> + This vindication of Mr. Bascom naturally brought to a close a conversation + which had already continued too long. The Honourable Hilary retired to + rest; but—if Austen had known it—not to sleep until the small + hours of the morning. + </p> + <p> + It was not until the ensuing spring that the case of Mr. Zebulun Meader + against the United Northeastern Railroads came up for trial in Bradford, + the county-seat of Putnam County, and we do not wish to appear to give it + too great a weight in the annals of the State. For one thing, the weekly + newspapers did not mention it; and Mr. Paul Pardriff, when urged to give + an account of the proceedings in the Ripton Record, said it was a matter + of no importance, and spent the afternoon writing an editorial about the + domestic habits of the Aztecs. Mr. Pardriff, however, had thought the + matter of sufficient interest personally to attend the trial, and for the + journey he made use of a piece of green cardboard which he habitually + carried in his pocket. The editor of the Bradford Champion did not have to + use his yellow cardboard, yet his columns may be searched in vain for the + event. + </p> + <p> + Not that it was such a great event, one of hundreds of railroad accidents + that come to court. The son of Hilary Vane was the plaintiff's counsel; + and Mr. Meader, although he had not been able to work since his release + from the hospital, had been able to talk, and the interest taken in the + case by the average neglected citizen in Putnam proved that the weekly + newspaper is not the only disseminator of news. + </p> + <p> + The railroad's side of the case was presented by that genial and able + practitioner of Putnam County, Mr. Nathaniel Billings, who travelled from + his home in Williamstown by the exhibition of a red ticket. Austen Vane + had to pay his own way from Ripton, but as he handed back the mileage + book, the conductor leaned over and whispered something in his ear that + made him smile, and Austen thought he would rather have that little drop + of encouragement than a pass. And as he left the car at Bradford, two + grizzled and hard-handed individuals arose and wished him good luck. + </p> + <p> + He needed encouragement,—what young lawyer does not on his first + important case? And he did not like to think of the future if he lost + this. But in this matter he possessed a certain self-confidence which + arose from a just and righteous anger against the forces opposing him and + a knowledge of their tactics. To his mind his client was not Zeb Meader + alone, but the host of victims who had been maimed and bought off because + it was cheaper than to give the public a proper protection. + </p> + <p> + The court room was crowded. Mr. Zeb Meader, pale but determined, was + surrounded by a knot of Mercer neighbours, many of whom were witnesses. + The agate eyes of Mr. Brush Bascom flashed from the audience, and Mr. Nat + Billings bustled forward to shake Austen's hand. Nat was one of those who + called not infrequently upon the Honourable Hilary in Ripton, and had sat + on Austen's little table. + </p> + <p> + “Glad to see you, Austen,” he cried, so that the people might hear; and + added, in a confidentially lower tone, “We lawyers understand that these + little things make no difference, eh?” + </p> + <p> + “I'm willing to agree to that if you are, Nat,” Austen answered. He looked + at the lawyer's fleshy face, blue-black where it was shaven, and at Mr. + Billings' shifty eyes and mouth, which its muscles could not quite keep in + place. Mr. Billings also had nicked teeth. But he did his best to hide + these obvious disadvantages by a Falstaffian bonhomie,—for Mr. + Billings was growing stout. + </p> + <p> + “I tried it once or twice, my friend, when I was younger. It's noble, but + it don't pay,” said Mr. Billings, still confidential. “Brush is sour—look + at him. But I understand how you feel. I'm the kind of feller that speaks + out, and what I can't understand is, why the old man let you get into it.” + </p> + <p> + “He knew you were going to be on the other side, Nat, and wanted to teach + me a lesson. I suppose it is folly to contest a case where the Railroad + Commission has completely exonerated your client,” Austen added + thoughtfully. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Billings' answer was to wink, very slowly, with one eye; and shortly + after these pleasantries were over, the case was called. A fragrant wind + blew in at the open windows, and Nature outside was beginning to array + herself in myriad hues of green. Austen studied the jury, and wondered how + many points of his argument he could remember, but when he had got to his + feet the words came to him. If we should seek an emblem for King David's + smooth, round stone which he flung at Goliath, we should call it the truth—for + the truth never fails to reach the mark. Austen's opening was not long, + his words simple and not dramatic, but he seemed to charge them with + something of the same magnetic force that compelled people to read and + believe “Uncle Ton's Cabin” and the “Song of the Shirt.” Spectators and + jury listened intently. + </p> + <p> + Some twenty witnesses appeared for the plaintiff, all of whom declared + that they had heard neither bell nor whistle. Most of these witnesses had + been in the grove, two or three in the train; two, residents of the + vicinity, testified that they had complained to the Railroad Commission + about that crossing, and had received evasive answers to the effect that + it was the duty of citizens to look out for themselves. On + cross-examination they declared they had no objection to grade crossings + which were properly safeguarded; this crossing was a death-trap. (Stricken + out.) Mr. Billings made the mistake of trying to prove that one of these + farmers—a clear-eyed, full-chested man with a deep voice—had + an animus against the railroad dating from a controversy concerning the + shipping of milk. + </p> + <p> + “I have an animus, your Honour,” said the witness, quietly. “When the + railrud is represented by the kind of politicians we have in Putnam, it's + natural I should hain't it?” + </p> + <p> + This answer, although stricken out, was gleefully received. + </p> + <p> + In marked contrast to the earnestness of young Mr. Vane, who then rested, + Mr. Billings treated the affair from the standpoint of a man of large + practice who usually has more weighty matters to attend to. This was so + comparatively trivial as not to be dignified by a serious mien. He quoted + freely from the “Book of Arguments,” reminding the jury of the debt of + gratitude the State owed to the Northeastern Railroads for doing so much + for its people; and if they were to eliminate all grade crossings, there + would be no dividends for the stockholders. Besides, the law was that the + State should pay half when a crossing was eliminated, and the State could + not afford it. Austen had suggested, in his opening, that it was cheaper + for the railroad as well as the State to kill citizens. He asked + permission to inquire of the learned counsel for the defence by what + authority he declared that the State could not afford to enter into a + policy by which grade crossings would gradually be eliminated. + </p> + <p> + “Why,” said Mr. Billings, “the fact that all bills introduced to this end + never get out of committee.” + </p> + <p> + “May I ask,” said Austen, innocently, “who has been chairman of that + particular committee in the lower House for the last five sessions?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Billings was saved the embarrassment of answering this question by a + loud voice in the rear calling out:—“Brush Bascom!” + </p> + <p> + A roar of laughter shook the court room, and all eyes were turned on + Brush, who continued to sit unconcernedly with his legs crossed and his + arm over the back of the seat. The offender was put out, order was + restored, and Mr. Billings declared, with an injured air, that he failed + to see why the counsel for the plaintiff saw fit to impugn Mr. Bascom. + </p> + <p> + “I merely asked a question,” said Austere; “far be it from me to impugn + any man who has held offices in the gift of the people for the last twenty + years.” + </p> + <p> + Another gale of laughter followed this, during which Mr. Billings wriggled + his mouth and gave a strong impression that such tactics and such levity + were to be deplored. + </p> + <p> + For the defence, the engineer and fireman both swore that the bell had + been rung before the crossing was reached. Austen merely inquired whether + this was not when they had left the station at North Mercer, two miles + away. No, it was nearer. Pressed to name the exact spot, they could only + conjecture, but near enough to be heard on the crossing. Other witnesses—among + them several picnickers in the grove—swore that they had heard the + bell. One of these Austen asked if he was not the member from Mercer in + the last Legislature, and Mr. Billings, no longer genial, sprang to his + feet with an objection. + </p> + <p> + “I merely wish to show, your Honour,” said Austen, “that this witness + accepted a pass from the Northeastern Railroads when he went to the + Legislature, and that he has had several trip passes for himself and his + family since.” + </p> + <p> + The objection was not sustained, and Mr. Billings noted an exception. + </p> + <p> + Another witness, upon whose appearance the audience tittered audibly, was + Dave Skinner, boss of Mercer. He had lived, he said, in the town of Mercer + all his life, and maintained that he was within a hundred yards of the + track when the accident occurred, and heard the bell ring. + </p> + <p> + “Is it not a fact,” said Austen to this witness, “that Mr. Brush Bascom + has a mortgage on your farm?” + </p> + <p> + “I can show, your Honour,” Austen continued, when Mr. Billings had + finished his protest, “that this man was on his way to Riverside to pay + his quarterly instalment.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Bascom was not present at the afternoon session. Mr. Billings' summing + up was somewhat impassioned, and contained more quotations from the “Book + of Arguments.” He regretted, he said, the obvious appeals to prejudice + against a railroad corporation that was honestly trying to do its + duty-yes, and more than its duty. + </p> + <p> + Misjudged, misused, even though friendless, it would continue to serve the + people. So noble, indeed, was the picture which Mr. Billings' eloquence + raised up that his voice shook with emotion as he finished. + </p> + <p> + In the opinion of many of the spectators Austen Vane had yet to learn the + art of oratory. He might with propriety have portrayed the suffering and + loss of the poor farmer who was his client; he merely quoted from the + doctor's testimony to the effect that Mr. Meader would never again be able + to do physical labour of the sort by which he had supported himself, and + ended up by calling the attention of the jury to the photographs and plans + of the crossing he had obtained two days after the accident, requesting + them to note the facts that the public highway, approaching through a + dense forest and underbrush at an angle of thirty-three degrees, climbed + the railroad embankment at that point, and a train could not be seen until + the horse was actually on the track. + </p> + <p> + The jury was out five minutes after the judge's charge, and gave Mr. + Zebulun Meader a verdict of six thousand dollars and costs,—a + popular verdict, from the evident approval with which it was received in + the court room. Quiet being restored, Mr. Billings requested, somewhat + vehemently, that the case be transferred on the exceptions to the Supreme + Court, that the stenographer write out the evidence, and that he might + have three weeks in which to prepare a draft. This was granted. + </p> + <p> + Zeb Meader, true to his nature, was self-contained throughout the + congratulations he received, but his joy was nevertheless intense. + </p> + <p> + “You shook 'em up good, Austen,” he said, making his way to where his + counsel stood. “I suspicioned you'd do it. But how about this here + appeal?” + </p> + <p> + “Billings is merely trying to save the face of his railroad,” Austen + answered, smiling. “He hasn't the least notion of allowing this case to + come up again—take my word for it.” + </p> + <p> + “I guess your word's good,” said Zeb. “And I want to tell you one thing, + as an old man. I've been talkin' to Putnam County folks some, and you + hain't lost nothin' by this.” + </p> + <p> + “How am I to get along without the friendship of Brush Bascom?” asked + Austen, soberly. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Meader, who had become used to this mild sort of humour, relaxed + sufficiently to laugh. + </p> + <p> + “Brush did seem a mite disgruntled,” he remarked. + </p> + <p> + Somewhat to Austen's embarrassment, Mr. Mender's friends were pushing + forward. One grizzled veteran took him by the hand and looked thoughtfully + into his face. + </p> + <p> + “I've lived a good many years,” he said, “but I never heerd 'em talked up + to like that. You're my candidate for governor.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0006" id="link2HCH0006"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VI. ENTER THE LION + </h2> + <p> + It is a fact, as Shakespeare has so tersely hinted, that fame sometimes + comes in the line of duty. To be sure, if Austen Vane had been Timothy + Smith, the Mender case might not have made quite so many ripples in the + pond with which this story is concerned. Austen did what he thought was + right. In the opinion of many of his father's friends whom he met from + time to time he had made a good-sized stride towards ruin, and they did + not hesitate to tell him so—Mr. Chipman, president of the Ripton + National Bank; Mr. Greene, secretary and treasurer of the Hawkeye Paper + Company, who suggested with all kindness that, however noble it may be, it + doesn't pay to tilt at windmills. + </p> + <p> + “Not unless you wreck the windmill,” answered Austen. A new and very + revolutionary point of view to Mr. Greene, who repeated it to Professor + Brewer, urging that gentleman to take Austen in hand. But the professor + burst out laughing, and put the saying into circulation. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Silas Tredway, whose list of directorships is too long to print, also + undertook to remonstrate with the son of his old friend, Hilary Vane. The + young lawyer heard him respectfully. The cashiers of some of these + gentlemen, who were younger men, ventured to say—when out of hearing—that + they admired the championship of Mr. Mender, but it would never do. To + these, likewise, Austen listened good-naturedly enough, and did not + attempt to contradict them. Changing the angle of the sun-dial does not + affect the time of day. + </p> + <p> + It was not surprising that young Tom Gaylord, when he came back from New + York and heard of Austen's victory, should have rushed to his office and + congratulated him in a rough but hearty fashion. Even though Austen had + won a suit against the Gaylord Lumber Company, young Tom would have + congratulated him. Old Tom was a different matter. Old Tom, hobbling along + under the maples, squinted at Austen and held up his stick. + </p> + <p> + “Damn you, you're a lawyer, ain't you?” cried the old man. + </p> + <p> + Austen, well used to this kind of greeting from Mr. Gaylord, replied that + he didn't think himself much of one. + </p> + <p> + “Damn it, I say you are. Some day I may have use for you,” said old Tom, + and walked on. + </p> + <p> + “No,” said young Tom, afterwards, in explanation of this extraordinary + attitude of his father, “it isn't principle. He's had a row with the + Northeastern about lumber rates, and swears he'll live till he gets even + with 'em.” + </p> + <p> + If Professor Brewer (Ripton's most clear-sighted citizen) had made the + statement that Hilary Vane—away down in the bottom of his heart—was + secretly proud of his son, the professor would probably have lost his + place on the school board, the water board, and the library committee. The + way the worldly-wise professor discovered the secret was this: he had gone + to Bradford to hear the case, for he had been a dear friend of Sarah + Austen. Two days later Hilary Vane saw the professor on his little porch, + and lingered. Mr. Brewer suspected why, led carefully up to the subject, + and not being discouraged—except by numerous grunts—gave the + father an account of the proceedings by no means unfavourable to the son. + Some people like paregoric; the Honourable Hilary took his without undue + squirming, with no visible effects to Austen. + </p> + <p> + Life in the office continued, with one or two exceptions, the even tenor + of its way. Apparently, so far as the Honourable Hilary was concerned, his + son had never been to Bradford. But the Honourable Brush Bascom, when he + came on mysterious business to call on the chief counsel, no longer sat on + Austen's table; this was true of other feudal lords and retainers: of Mr. + Nat Billings, who, by the way, did not file his draft after all. Not that + Mr. Billings wasn't polite, but he indulged no longer in slow winks at the + expense of the honourable Railroad Commission. + </p> + <p> + Perhaps the most curious result of the Meader case to be remarked in + passing, was upon Mr. Hamilton Tooting. Austen, except when he fled to the + hills, was usually the last to leave the office, Mr. Tooting often the + first. But one evening Mr. Tooting waited until the force had gone, and + entered Austen's room with his hand outstretched. + </p> + <p> + “Put her there, Aust,” he said. + </p> + <p> + Austen put her there. + </p> + <p> + “I've been exercisin' my thinker some the last few months,” observed Mr. + Tooting, seating himself on the desk. + </p> + <p> + “Aren't you afraid of nervous prostration, Ham?” + </p> + <p> + “Say,” exclaimed Mr. Tooting, with a vexed laugh, “why are you always + jollying me? You ain't any older than I am.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm not as old, Ham. I don't begin to have your knowledge of the world.” + </p> + <p> + “Come off,” said Mr. Tooting, who didn't know exactly how to take this + compliment. “I came in here to have a serious talk. I've been thinking it + over, and I don't know but what you did right.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, Ham, if you don't know, I don't know how I am to convince you.” + </p> + <p> + “Hold on. Don't go twistin' around that way—you make me dizzy.” He + lowered his voice confidentially, although there was no one within five + walls of them. “I know the difference between a gold brick and a + government bond, anyhow. I believe bucking the railroad's going to pay in + a year or so. I got on to it as soon as you did, I guess, but when a + feller's worn the collar as long as I have and has to live, it ain't easy + to cut loose—you understand.” + </p> + <p> + “I understand,” answered Austen, gravely. + </p> + <p> + “I thought I'd let you know I didn't take any too much trouble with Meader + last summer to get the old bird to accept a compromise.” + </p> + <p> + “That was good of you, Ham.” + </p> + <p> + “I knew what you was up to,” said Mr. Tooting, giving Austen a friendly + poke with his cigar. + </p> + <p> + “You showed your usual acumen, Mr. Tooting,” said Austen, as he rose to + put on his coat. Mr. Tooting regarded him uneasily. + </p> + <p> + “You're a deep one, Aust,” he declared; “some day you and, me must get + together.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Billings' desire for ultimate justice not being any stronger than + Austen suspected, in due time Mr. Meader got his money. His counsel would + have none of it,—a decision not at all practical, and on the whole + disappointing. There was, to be sure, an influx into Austen's office of + people who had been run over in the past, and it was Austen's unhappy duty + to point out to these that they had signed (at the request of various Mr. + Tootings) little slips of paper which are technically known as releases. + But the first hint of a really material advantage to be derived from his + case against the railroad came from a wholly unexpected source, in the + shape of a letter in the mail one August morning. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “DEAR SIR: Having remarked with some interest the verdict for a + client of yours against the United Northeastern Railroads, I wish + you would call and see me at your earliest convenience. + + “Yours truly, + + “HUMPHREY CREWE.” + </pre> + <p> + Although his curiosity was aroused, Austen was of two minds whether to + answer this summons, the truth being that Mr. Crewe had not made, on the + occasions on which they had had intercourse, the most favourable of + impressions. However, it is not for the struggling lawyer to scorn any + honourable brief, especially from a gentleman of stocks and bonds and + varied interests like Mr. Crewe, with whom contentions of magnitude are + inevitably associated. As he spun along behind Pepper on the Leith road + that climbed Willow Brook on the afternoon he had made the appointment, + Austen smiled to himself over his anticipations, and yet—-being + human-let his fancy play. + </p> + <p> + The broad acres of Wedderburn stretched across many highways, but the + manor-house (as it had been called) stood on an eminence whence one could + look for miles down the Yale of the Blue. It had once been a farmhouse, + but gradually the tail had begun to wag the dog, and the farmhouse became, + like the original stone out of which the Irishman made the soup, difficult + to find. Once the edifice had been on the road, but the road had long ago + been removed to a respectful distance, and Austen entered between two + massive pillars built of granite blocks on a musical gravel drive. + </p> + <p> + Humphrey Crewe was on the porch, his hands in his pockets, as Austen drove + up. + </p> + <p> + “Hello,” he said, in a voice probably meant to be hospitable, but which + had a peremptory ring, “don't stand on ceremony. Hitch your beast and come + along in.” + </p> + <p> + Having, as it were, superintended the securing of Pepper, Mr. Crewe led + the way through the house to the study, pausing once or twice to point out + to Austen a carved ivory elephant procured at great expense in China, and + a piece of tapestry equally difficult of purchase. The study itself was no + mere lounging place of a man of pleasure, but sober and formidable books + were scattered through the cases: “Turner's Evolution of the Railroad,” + “Graham's Practical Forestry,” “Eldridge's Finance”; while whole shelves + of modern husbandry proclaimed that Mr. Humphrey Crewe was no amateur + farmer. There was likewise a shelf devoted to road building, several to + knotty-looking pamphlets, and half a wall of neatly labelled pigeonholes. + For decoration, there was an oar garnished with a ribbon, and several + groups of college undergraduates, mostly either in puffed ties or scanty + attire, and always prominent in these groups, and always unmistakable, was + Mr. Humphrey Crewe himself. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Crewe was silent awhile, that this formidable array of things might + make the proper impression upon his visitor. + </p> + <p> + “It was lucky you came to-day, Vane,” he said at length. “I am due in New + York to-morrow for a directors' meeting, and I have a conference in + Chicago with a board of trustees of which I am a member on the third. + Looking at my array of pamphlets, eh? I've been years in collecting them,—ever + since I left college. Those on railroads ought especially to interest you—I'm + somewhat of a railroad man myself.” + </p> + <p> + “I didn't know that,” said Austen. + </p> + <p> + “Had two or three blocks of stock in subsidiary lines that had to be + looked after. It was a nuisance at first,” said Mr. Crewe, “but I didn't + shirk it. I made up my mind I'd get to the bottom of the railroad problem, + and I did. It's no use doing a thing at all unless you do it well.” Mr. + Crewe, his hands still in his pockets, faced Austen smilingly. “Now I'll + bet you didn't know I was a railroad man until you came in here. To tell + the truth, it was about a railroad matter that I sent for you.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Crewe lit a cigar, but he did not offer one to Austen, as he had to + Mr. Tooting. “I wanted to see what you were like,” he continued, with + refreshing frankness. “Of course, I'd seen you on the road. But you can + get more of an idea of a man by talkin' to him, you know.” + </p> + <p> + “You can if he'll talk,” said Austen, who was beginning to enjoy his + visit. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Crewe glanced at him keenly. Few men are fools at all points of the + compass, and Mr. Crewe was far from this. + </p> + <p> + “You did well in that little case you had against the Northeastern. I + heard about it.” + </p> + <p> + “I did my best,” answered Austen, and he smiled again. + </p> + <p> + “As some great man has remarked,” observed Mr. Crewe, “it isn't what we + do, it's how we do it. Take pains over the smaller cases, and the larger + cases will come of themselves, eh?” + </p> + <p> + “I live in hope,” said Austen, wondering how soon this larger case was + going to unfold itself. + </p> + <p> + “Let me see,” said Mr. Crewe, “isn't your father the chief attorney in + this State for the Northeastern? How do you happen to be on the other + side?” + </p> + <p> + “By the happy accident of obtaining a client,” said Austen. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Crewe glanced at him again. In spite of himself, respect was growing + in him. He had expected to find a certain amount of eagerness and + subserviency—though veiled; here was a man of different calibre than + he looked for in Ripton. + </p> + <p> + “The fact is,” he declared, “I have a grievance against the Northeastern + Railroads, and I have made up my mind that you are the man for me.” + </p> + <p> + “You may have reason to regret your choice,” Austen suggested. + </p> + <p> + “I think not,” replied Mr. Crewe, promptly; “I believe I know a man when I + see one, and you inspire me with confidence. This matter will have a + double interest for you, as I understand you are fond of horses.” + </p> + <p> + “Horses?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” Mr. Crewe continued, gaining a little heat at the word, “I bought + the finest-lookin' pair you ever saw in New York this spring,—all-around + action, manners, conformation, everything; I'll show 'em to you. One of + 'em's all right now; this confounded railroad injured the other gettin' + him up here. I've put in a claim. They say they didn't, my man says they + did. He tells me the horse was thrown violently against the sides of the + car several times. He's internally injured. I told 'em I'd sue 'em, and + I've decided that you are the man to take the case—on conditions.” + </p> + <p> + Austen's sense of humour saved him,—and Mr. Humphrey Crewe had begun + to interest him. He rose and walked to the window and looked out for a few + moments over the flower garden before he replied:—“On what + conditions?” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said Mr. Crewe, “frankly, I don't want to pay more than the horse + is worth, and it's business to settle on the fee in case you win. I + thought—” + </p> + <p> + “You thought,” said Austen, “that I might not charge as much as the next + man.” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said Mr. Crewe, “I knew that if you took the case, you'd fight it + through, and I want to get even with 'em. Their claim agent had the + impudence to suggest that the horse had been doctored by the dealer in New + York. To tell me that I, who have been buying horses all my life, was + fooled. The veterinary swears the animal is ruptured. I'm a citizen of + Avalon County, though many people call me a summer resident; I've done + business here and helped improve the neighbourhood for years. It will be + my policy to employ home talent Avalon County lawyers, for instance. I may + say, without indiscretion, that I intend from now on to take even a + greater interest in public affairs. The trouble is in this country that + men in my position do not feel their responsibilities.” + </p> + <p> + “Public spirit is a rare virtue,” Austen remarked, seeing that he was + expected to say something. “Avalon County appreciates the compliment,—if + I may be permitted to answer for it.” + </p> + <p> + “I want to do the right thing,” said Mr. Crewe. “In fact, I have almost + made up my mind to go to the Legislature this year. I know it would be a + sacrifice of time, in a sense, and all that, but—” He paused, and + looked at Austen. + </p> + <p> + “The Legislature needs leavening.” + </p> + <p> + “Precisely,” exclaimed Mr. Crewe, “and when I look around me and see the + things crying to be done in this State, and no lawmaker with sense and + foresight enough to propose them, it makes me sick. Now, for instance,” he + continued, and rose with an evident attempt to assault the forestry + shelves. But Austen rose too. + </p> + <p> + “I'd like to go over that with you, Mr. Crewe,” said he, “but I have to be + back in Ripton.” + </p> + <p> + “How about my case?” his host demanded, with a return to his former + abruptness. + </p> + <p> + “What about it?” asked Austen. + </p> + <p> + “Are you going to take it?” + </p> + <p> + “Struggling lawyers don't refuse business.” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said Mr. Crewe, “that's sensible. But what are you going to + charge?” + </p> + <p> + “Now,” said Austen, with entire good humour, “when you get on that ground, + you are dealing no longer with one voracious unit, but with a whole + profession,—a profession, you will allow me to add, which in dignity + is second to none. In accordance with the practice of the best men in that + profession, I will charge you what I believe is fair—not what I + think you are able and willing to pay. Should you dispute the bill, I will + not stoop to quarrel with you, but, try to live on bread and butter a + while longer.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Crewe was silent for a moment. It would not be exact to say + uncomfortable, for it is to be doubted whether he ever got so. But he felt + dimly that the relations of patron and patronized were becoming somewhat + jumbled. + </p> + <p> + “All right,” said he, “I guess we can let it go at that. Hello! What the + deuce are those women doing here again?” + </p> + <p> + This irrelevant exclamation was caused by the sight through the open + French window—of three ladies in the flower garden, two of whom were + bending over the beds. The third, upon whose figure Austen's eyes were + riveted, was seated on a stone bench set in a recess of pines, and looking + off into the Yale of the Blue. With no great eagerness, but without + apology to Austen, Mr. Crewe stepped out of the window and approached + them; and as this was as good a way as any to his horse and buggy, Austen + followed. One of the ladies straightened at their appearance, scrutinized + them through the glasses she held in her hand, and Austen immediately + recognized her as the irreproachable Mrs. Pomfret. + </p> + <p> + “We didn't mean to disturb you, Humphrey,” she said. “We knew you would be + engaged in business, but I told Alice as we drove by I could not resist + stopping for one more look at your Canterbury bells. I knew you wouldn't + mind, but you mustn't leave your—affairs,—not for an instant.” + </p> + <p> + The word “affairs” was accompanied by a brief inspection of Austen Vane. + </p> + <p> + “That's all right,” answered Mr. Crewe; “it doesn't cost anything to look + at flowers, that's what they're for. Cost something to put 'em in. I got + that little feller Ridley to lay 'em out—I believe I told you. He's + just beginning. Hello, Alice.” + </p> + <p> + “I think he did it very well, Humphrey,” said Miss Pomfret. + </p> + <p> + “Passably,” said Mr. Crewe. “I told him what I wanted and drew a rough + sketch of the garden and the colour scheme.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you did it, and not Mr. Ridley. I rather suspected it,” said Mrs. + Pomfret; “you have such clear and practical ideas about things, Humphrey.” + </p> + <p> + “It's simple enough,” said Mr. Crewe, deprecatingly, “after you've seen a + few hundred gardens and get the general underlying principle.” + </p> + <p> + “It's very clever,” Alice murmured. + </p> + <p> + “Not at all. A little application will do wonders. A certain definite + colour massed here, another definite colour there, and so forth.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Crewe spoke as though Alice's praise irritated him slightly. He waved + his hand to indicate the scheme in general, and glanced at Victoria on the + stone bench. From her (Austen thought) seemed to emanate a silent but + mirthful criticism, although she continued to gaze persistently down the + valley, apparently unaware of their voices. Mr. Crewe looked as if he + would have liked to reach her, but the two ladies filled the narrow path, + and Mrs. Pomfret put her fingers on his sleeve. + </p> + <p> + “Humphrey, you must explain it to us. I am so interested in gardens I'm + going to have one if Electrics increase their dividend.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Crewe began, with no great ardour, to descant on the theory of + planting, and Austen resolved to remain pocketed and ignored no longer. He + retraced his steps and made his way rapidly by another path towards + Victoria, who turned her head at his approach, and rose. He acknowledged + an inward agitation with the vision in his eye of the tall, white figure + against the pines, clad with the art which, in mysterious simplicity, + effaces itself. + </p> + <p> + “I was wondering,” she said, as she gave him her hand, “how long it would + be before you spoke to me.” + </p> + <p> + “You gave me no chance,” said Austen, quickly. + </p> + <p> + “Do you deserve one?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + Before he could answer, Mr. Crewe's explanation of his theories had come + lamely to a halt. Austen was aware of the renewed scrutiny of Mrs. + Pomfret, and then Mr. Crewe, whom no social manacles could shackle, had + broken past her and made his way to them. He continued to treat the ground + on which Austen was standing as unoccupied. + </p> + <p> + “Hello, Victoria,” he said, “you don't know anything about gardens, do + you?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't believe you do either,” was Victoria's surprising reply. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Crewe laughed at this pleasantry. + </p> + <p> + “How are you going to prove it?” he demanded. + </p> + <p> + “By comparing what you've done with Freddie Ridley's original plan,” said + Victoria. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Crewe was nettled. + </p> + <p> + “Ridley has a lot to learn,” he retorted. “He had no conception of what + was appropriate here.” + </p> + <p> + “Freddie was weak,” said Victoria, “but he needed the money. Don't you + know Mr. Vane?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Mr. Crewe, shortly, “I've been talking to him—on + business.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh,” said Victoria, “I had no means of knowing. Mrs. Pomfret, I want to + introduce Mr. Vane, and Miss Pomfret, Mr. Vane.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Pomfret, who had been hovering on the outskirts of this duel, + inclined her head the fraction of an inch, but Alice put out her hand with + her sweetest manner. + </p> + <p> + “When did you arrive?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “Well, the fact is, I haven't arrived yet,” said Austen. + </p> + <p> + “Not arrived” exclaimed Alice, with a puzzled glance into Victoria's + laughing eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps Humphrey will help you along,” Victoria suggested, turning to + him. “He might be induced to give you his celebrated grievance about his + horses.” + </p> + <p> + “I have given it to him,” said Mr. Crewe, briefly. + </p> + <p> + “Cheer up, Mr. Vane, your fortune is made,” said Victoria. + </p> + <p> + “Victoria,” said Mrs. Pomfret, in her most imperial voice, “we ought to be + going instantly, or we shan't have time to drop you at the Hammonds'.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll take you over in the new motor car,” said Mr. Crewe, with his air of + conferring a special train. + </p> + <p> + “How much is gasoline by the gallon?” inquired Victoria. + </p> + <p> + “I did a favour once for the local manager, and get a special price,” said + Mr. Crewe. + </p> + <p> + “Humphrey,” said Mrs. Pomfret, taking his hand, “don't forget you are + coming to dinner to-night. Four people gave out at the last minute, and + there will be just Alice and myself. I've asked old Mr. Fitzhugh.” + </p> + <p> + “All right,” said Mr. Crewe, “I'll have the motor car brought around.” + </p> + <p> + The latter part of this remark was, needless to say, addressed to + Victoria. + </p> + <p> + “It's awfully good of you, Humphrey,” she answered, “but the Hammonds are + on the road to Ripton, and I am going to ask Mr. Vane to drive me down + there behind that adorable horse of his.” + </p> + <p> + This announcement produced a varied effect upon those who heard it, + although all experienced surprise. Mrs. Pomfret, in addition to an anger + which she controlled only as the result of long practice, was horrified, + and once more levelled her glasses at Austen. + </p> + <p> + “I think, Victoria, you had better come with us,” she said. “We shall have + plenty of time, if we hurry.” + </p> + <p> + By this time Austen had recovered his breath. + </p> + <p> + “I'll be ready in an instant,” he said, and made brief but polite adieus + to the three others. + </p> + <p> + “Good-by,” said Alice, vaguely. + </p> + <p> + “Let me know when anything develops,” said Mr. Crewe, with his back to his + attorney. + </p> + <p> + Austen found Victoria, her colour heightened a little, waiting for him by + the driveway. The Pomfrets had just driven off, and Mr. Crewe was nowhere + to be seen. + </p> + <p> + “I do not know what you will think of me for taking this for granted, Mr. + Vane,” she said as he took his seat beside her, “but I couldn't resist the + chance of driving behind your horse.” + </p> + <p> + “I realized,” he answered smilingly, “that Pepper was the attraction, and + I have more reason than ever to be grateful to him.” + </p> + <p> + She glanced covertly at the Vane profile, at the sure, restraining hands + on the reins which governed with so nice a touch the mettle of the horse. + His silence gave her time to analyze again her interest in this man, which + renewed itself at every meeting. In the garden she had been struck by the + superiority of a nature which set at naught what had been, to some smaller + spirits, a difficult situation. She recognized this quality as inborn, + but, not knowing of Sarah Austen, she wondered where he got it. Now it was + the fact that he refrained from comment that pleased her most. + </p> + <p> + “Did Humphrey actually send for you to take up the injured horse case?” + she asked. + </p> + <p> + Austen flushed. + </p> + <p> + “I'm afraid he did. You seem to know all about it,” he added. + </p> + <p> + “Know all about it Every one within twenty miles of Leith knows about it. + I'm sure the horse was doctored when he bought him.” + </p> + <p> + “Take care, you may be called as a witness.” + </p> + <p> + “What I want to know is, why you accepted such a silly case,” said + Victoria. + </p> + <p> + Austen looked quizzically into her upturned face, and she dropped her + eyes. + </p> + <p> + “That's exactly what I should have asked myself,—after a while,” he + said. + </p> + <p> + She laughed with a delicious understanding of “after a while.” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose you think me frightfully forward,” she said, in a lowered + voice, “inviting myself to drive and asking you such a question when I + scarcely know you. But I just couldn't go on with Mrs. Pomfret,—she + irritated me so,—and my front teeth are too valuable to drive with + Humphrey Crewe.” + </p> + <p> + Austen smiled, and secretly agreed with her. + </p> + <p> + “I should have offered, if I had dared,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “Dared! I didn't know that was your failing. I don't believe you even + thought of it.” + </p> + <p> + “Nevertheless, the idea occurred to me, and terrified me,” said Austen. + </p> + <p> + “Why?” she asked, turning upon him suddenly. “Why did it terrify you?” + </p> + <p> + “I should have been presuming upon an accidental acquaintance, which I had + no means of knowing you wished to continue,” he replied, staring at his + horse's head. + </p> + <p> + “And I?” Victoria asked. “Presumption multiplies tenfold in a woman, + doesn't it?” + </p> + <p> + “A woman confers,” said Austen. + </p> + <p> + She smiled, but with a light in her eyes. This simple sentence seemed to + reveal yet more of an inner man different from some of those with whom her + life had been cast. It was an American point of view—this choosing + to believe that the woman conferred. After offering herself as his + passenger Victoria, too, had had a moment of terror: the action had been + the result of an impulse which she did not care to attempt to define. She + changed the subject. + </p> + <p> + “You have been winning laurels since I saw you last summer,” she said. “I + hear incidentally you have made our friend Zeb Meader a rich man.” + </p> + <p> + “As riches go, in the town of Mercer,” Austen laughed. “As for my laurels, + they have not yet begun to chafe.” + </p> + <p> + Here was a topic he would have avoided, and yet he was curious to discover + what her attitude would be. He had antagonized her father, and the fact + that he was the son of Hilary Vane had given his antagonism prominence. + </p> + <p> + “I am glad you did it for Zeb.” + </p> + <p> + “I should have done it for anybody—much as I like Zeb,” he replied + briefly. + </p> + <p> + She glanced at him. + </p> + <p> + “It was—courageous of you,” she said. + </p> + <p> + “I have never looked upon it in that light,” he answered. “May I ask you + how you heard of it?” + </p> + <p> + She coloured, but faced the question. + </p> + <p> + “I heard it from my father, at first, and I took an interest—on Zeb + Meader's account,” she added hastily. + </p> + <p> + Austen was silent. + </p> + <p> + “Of course,” she continued, “I felt a little like boasting of an + 'accidental acquaintance' with the man who saved Zeb Meader's life.” + </p> + <p> + Austen laughed. Then he drew Pepper down to a walk, and turned to her. + </p> + <p> + “The power of making it more than an accidental acquaintance lies with + you,” he said quietly. + </p> + <p> + “I have always had an idea that aggression was a man's prerogative,” + Victoria answered lightly. “And seeing that you have not appeared at + Fairview for something over a year, I can only conclude that you do not + choose to exercise it in this case.” + </p> + <p> + Austen was in a cruel quandary. + </p> + <p> + “I did wish to come,” he answered simply, “but—the fact that I have + had a disagreement with your father has—made it difficult.” + “Nonsense” exclaimed Victoria; “just because you have won a suit against + his railroad. You don't know my father, Mr. Vane. He isn't the kind of man + with whom that would make any difference. You ought to talk it over with + him. He thinks you were foolish to take Zeb Meader's side.” + </p> + <p> + “And you?” Austen demanded quickly. + </p> + <p> + “You see, I'm a woman,” said Victoria, “and I'm prejudiced—for Zeb + Meader. Women are always prejudiced,—that's our trouble. It seemed + to me that Zeb was old, and unfortunate, and ought to be compensated, + since he is unable to work. But of course I suppose I can't be expected to + understand.” + </p> + <p> + It was true that she could not be expected to understand. He might not + tell her that his difference with Mr. Flint was not a mere matter of + taking a small damage suit against his railroad, but a fundamental one. + And Austen recognized that the justification of his attitude meant an + arraignment of Victoria's father. + </p> + <p> + “I wish you might know my father better, Mr. Vane,” she went on, “I wish + you might know him as I know him, if it were possible. You see, I have + been his constant companion all my life, and I think very few people + understand him as I do, and realize his fine qualities. He makes no + attempt to show his best side to the world. His life has been spent in + fighting, and I am afraid he is apt to meet the world on that footing. He + is a man of such devotion to his duty that he rarely has a day to himself, + and I have known him to sit up until the small hours of the morning to + settle some little matter of justice. I do not think I am betraying his + confidence when I say that he is impressed with your ability, and that he + liked your manner the only time he ever talked to you. He believes that + you have got, in some way, a wrong idea of what he is trying to do. Why + don't you come up and talk to him again?” + </p> + <p> + “I am afraid your kindness leads you to overrate my importance,” Austen + replied, with mingled feelings. Victoria's confidence in her father made + the situation all the more hopeless. + </p> + <p> + “I'm sure I don't,” she answered quickly; “ever since—ever since I + first laid eyes upon you I have had a kind of belief in you.” + </p> + <p> + “Belief?” he echoed. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” she said, “belief that—that you had a future. I can't + describe it,” she continued, the colour coming into her face again; “one + feels that way about some people without being able to put the feeling + into words. And have a feeling, too, that I should like you to be friends + with my father.” + </p> + <p> + Neither of them, perhaps, realized the rapidity with which “accidental + acquaintance” had melted into intimacy. Austen's blood ran faster, but it + was characteristic of him that he tried to steady himself, for he was a + Vane. He had thought of her many times during the past year, but gradually + the intensity of the impression had faded until it had been so + unexpectedly and vividly renewed to-day. He was not a man to lose his + head, and the difficulties of the situation made him pause and choose his + words, while he dared not so much as glance at her as she sat in the + sunlight beside him. + </p> + <p> + “I should like to be friends with your father,” he answered gravely,—the + statement being so literally true as to have its pathetically humorous + aspect. + </p> + <p> + “I'll tell him so, Mr. Vane,” she said. + </p> + <p> + Austen turned, with a seriousness that dismayed her. + </p> + <p> + “I must ask you as a favour not to do that,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “Why?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “In the first place,” he answered quietly, “I cannot afford to have Mr. + Flint misunderstand my motives. And I ought not to mislead you,” he went + on. “In periods of public controversy, such as we are passing through at + present, sometimes men's views differ so sharply as to make intercourse + impossible. Your father and I might not agree—politically, let us + say. For instance,” he added, with evident hesitation, “my father and I + disagree.” + </p> + <p> + Victoria was silent. And presently they came to a wire fence overgrown + with Virginia creeper, which divided the shaded road from a wide lawn. + </p> + <p> + “Here we are at the Hammonds', and—thank you,” she said. + </p> + <p> + Any reply he might have made was forestalled. The insistent and intolerant + horn of an automobile, followed now by the scream of the gears, broke the + stillness of the country-side, and a familiar voice cried out—“Do + you want the whole road?” + </p> + <p> + Austen turned into the Hammonds' drive as the bulldog nose of a motor + forged ahead, and Mr. Crewe swung in the driver's seat. + </p> + <p> + “Hello, Victoria,” he shouted, “you people ought to have ear-trumpets.” + </p> + <p> + The car swerved, narrowly missed a watering fountain where the word + “Peace” was inscribed, and shot down the hill. + </p> + <p> + “That manner,” said Victoria, as she jumped out of the buggy, “is a + valuable political asset.” + </p> + <p> + “Does he really intend to go into politics?” Austen asked curiously. + </p> + <p> + “'Intend' is a mild word applied to Humphrey,” she answered; “'determined' + would suit him better. According to him, there is no game that cannot be + won by dynamics. 'Get out of the way' is his motto. Mrs. Pomfret will tell + you how he means to cover the State with good roads next year, and take a + house in Washington the year after.” She held out her hand. “Good-by,—and + I am ever so much obliged to you for bringing me here.” + </p> + <p> + He drove away towards Ripton with many things to think about, with a last + picture of her in his mind as she paused for an instant in the flickering + shadows, stroking Pepper's forehead. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0007" id="link2HCH0007"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VII. THE LEOPARD AND HIS SPOTS + </h2> + <p> + It is difficult to overestimate the importance of Mr. Humphrey Crewe, of + his value to the town of Leith, and to the State at large, and in these + pages only a poor attempt at an appreciation of him may be expected. Mr. + Crewe by no means underestimated this claim upon the community, and he had + of late been declaring that he was no summer resident. Wedderburn was his + home, and there he paid his taxes. Undoubtedly, they were less than city + taxes. + </p> + <p> + Although a young man, Mr. Crewe was in all respects a model citizen, and a + person of many activities. He had built a farmers' club, to which the + farmers, in gross ingratitude, had never gone. Now it was a summer + residence and distinctly rentable. He had a standing offer to erect a + library in the village of Leith provided the town would furnish the + ground, the books, and permit the name of Crewe to be carved in stone over + the doorway. The indifference of the town pained him, and he was naturally + not a little grieved at the lack of proper feeling of the country people + of America towards those who would better their conditions. He had put a + large memorial window in the chapel to his family. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Crewe had another standing offer to be one of five men to start a + farming experiment station—which might pay dividends. He, was a + church warden; president of a society for turning over crops (which he had + organized); a member of the State Grange; president of the embryo State + Economic League (whatever that was); and chairman of the Local Improvement + Board—also a creation of his own. By these tokens, and others too + numerous to mention, it would seem that the inhabitants of Leith would + have jumped at the chance to make such a man one of the five hundred in + their State Legislature. + </p> + <p> + To Whitman is attributed the remark that genius is almost one hundred per + cent directness, but whether or not this applied to Mr. Humphrey Crewe + remains to be seen. “Dynamics” more surely expressed him. It would not + seem to be a very difficult feat, to be sure, to get elected to a State + Legislature of five hundred which met once a year: once in ten years, + indeed, might have been more appropriate for the five hundred. The town of + Leith with its thousand inhabitants had one representative, and Mr. Crewe + had made up his mind he was to be that representative. + </p> + <p> + There was, needless to say, great excitement in Leith over Mr. Crewe's + proposed venture into the unknown seas of politics. I mean, of course, + that portion of Leith which recognized in Mr. Crewe an eligible bachelor + and a person of social importance, for these qualities were not + particularly appealing to the three hundred odd farmers whose votes were + expected to send him rejoicing to the State capital. + </p> + <p> + “It is so rare with us for a gentleman to go into politics, that we ought + to do everything we can to elect him,” Mrs. Pomfret went about declaring. + “Women do so much in England, I wonder they don't do more here. I was + staying at Aylestone Court last year when the Honourable Billy Aylestone + was contesting the family seat with a horrid Radical, and I assure you, my + dear, I got quite excited. We did nothing from morning till night but + electioneer for the Honourable Billy, and kissed all the babies in the + borough. The mothers were so grateful. Now, Edith, do tell Jack instead of + playing tennis and canoeing all day he ought to help. It's the duty of all + young men to help. Noblesse oblige, you know. I can't understand Victoria. + She really has influence with these country people, but she says it's all + nonsense. Sometimes I think Victoria has a common streak in her—and + no wonder. The other day she actually drove to the Hammonds' in a buggy + with an unknown lawyer from Ripton. But I told you about it. Tell your + gardener and the people that do your haying, dear, and your chicken woman. + My chicken woman is most apathetic, but do you wonder, with the life they + lead?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Humphrey Crewe might have had, with King Charles, the watchword + “Thorough.” He sent to the town clerk for a check-list, and proceeded to + honour each of the two hundred Republican voters with a personal visit. + This is a fair example of what took place in the majority of cases. + </p> + <p> + Out of a cloud of dust emerges an automobile, which halts, with protesting + brakes, in front of a neat farmhouse, guarded by great maples. Persistent + knocking by a chauffeur at last brings a woman to the door. Mrs. Jenney + has a pleasant face and an ample figure. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Jenney live here?” cries Mr. Crewe from the driver's seat. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” says Mrs. Jenney, smiling. + </p> + <p> + “Tell him I want to see him.” + </p> + <p> + “Guess you'll find him in the apple orchard.” + </p> + <p> + “Where's that?” + </p> + <p> + The chauffeur takes down the bars, Mr. Jenney pricks up his ears, and + presently—to his amazement—perceives a Leviathan approaching + him, careening over the ruts of his wood road. Not being an emotional + person, he continues to pick apples until he is summarily hailed. Then he + goes leisurely towards the Leviathan. + </p> + <p> + “Are you Mr. Jenney?” + </p> + <p> + “Callate to be,” says Mr. Jenney, pleasantly. + </p> + <p> + “I'm Humphrey Crewe.” + </p> + <p> + “How be you?” says Mr. Jenney, his eyes wandering over the Leviathan. + </p> + <p> + “How are the apples this year?” asks Mr. Crewe, graciously. + </p> + <p> + “Fair to middlin',” says Mr. Jenney. + </p> + <p> + “Have you ever tasted my Pippins?” says Mr. Crewe. “A little science in + cultivation helps along. I'm going to send you a United States government + pamphlet on the fruit we can raise here.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Jenney makes an awkward pause by keeping silent on the subject of the + pamphlet until he shall see it. + </p> + <p> + “Do you take much interest in politics?” + </p> + <p> + “Not a great deal,” answers Mr. Jenney. + </p> + <p> + “That's the trouble with Americans,” Mr. Crewe declares, “they don't care + who represents 'em, or whether their government's good or bad.” + </p> + <p> + “Guess that's so,” replies Mr. Jenney, politely. + </p> + <p> + “That sort of thing's got to stop,” declares Mr. Crewe; “I'm a candidate + for the Republican nomination for representative.” + </p> + <p> + “I want to know!” ejaculates Mr. Jenney, pulling his beard. One would + never suspect that this has been one of Mr. Jenney's chief topics of late. + </p> + <p> + “I'll see that the interests of this town are cared for.” + </p> + <p> + “Let's see,” says Mr. Jenney, “there's five hundred in the House, ain't + there?” + </p> + <p> + “It's a ridiculous number,” says Mr. Crewe, with truth. + </p> + <p> + “Gives everybody a chance to go,” says Mr. Jenney. “I was thar in '78, and + enjoyed it some.” + </p> + <p> + “Who are you for?” demanded Mr. Crewe, combating the tendency of the + conversation to slip into a pocket. + </p> + <p> + “Little early yet, hain't it? Hain't made up my mind. Who's the + candidates?” asks Mr. Jenney, continuing to stroke his beard. + </p> + <p> + “I don't know,” says Mr. Crewe, “but I do know I've done something for + this town, and I hope you'll take it into consideration. Come and see me + when you go to the village. I'll give you a good cigar, and that pamphlet, + and we'll talk matters over.” + </p> + <p> + “Never would have thought to see one of them things in my orchard,” says + Mr. Jenney. “How much do they cost? Much as a locomotive, don't they?” + </p> + <p> + It would not be exact to say that, after some weeks of this sort of + campaigning, Mr. Crewe was discouraged, for such writhe vitality with + which nature had charged him that he did not know the meaning of the word. + He was merely puzzled, as a June-bug is puzzled when it bumps up against a + wire window-screen. He had pledged to him his own gardener, Mrs. + Pomfret's, the hired men of three of his neighbours, a few modest souls + who habitually took off their hats to him, and Mr. Ball, of the village, + who sold groceries to Wedderburn and was a general handy man for the + summer people. Mr. Ball was an agitator by temperament and a promoter by + preference. If you were a summer resident of importance and needed + anything from a sewing-machine to a Holstein heifer, Mr. Ball, the grocer, + would accommodate you. When Mrs. Pomfret's cook became inebriate and + refractory, Mr. Ball was sent for, and enticed her to the station and on + board of a train; when the Chillinghams' tank overflowed, Mr. Ball found + the proper valve and saved the house from being washed away. And it was he + who, after Mrs. Pomfret, took the keenest interest in Mr. Crewe's + campaign. At length came one day when Mr. Crewe pulled up in front of the + grocery store and called, as his custom was, loudly for Mr. Ball. The fact + that Mr. Ball was waiting on customers made no difference, and presently + that gentleman appeared, rubbing his hands together. + </p> + <p> + “How do you do, Mr. Crewe?” he said, “automobile going all right?” + </p> + <p> + “What's the matter with these fellers?” said Mr. Crewe. “Haven't I done + enough for the town? Didn't I get 'em rural free delivery? Didn't I + subscribe to the meeting-house and library, and don't I pay more taxes + than anybody else?” + </p> + <p> + “Certain,” assented Mr. Ball, eagerly, “certain you do.” It did not seem + to occur to him that it was unfair to make him responsible for the scurvy + ingratitude of his townsmen. He stepped gingerly down into the dust and + climbed up on the tool box. + </p> + <p> + “Look out,” said Mr. Crewe, “don't scratch the varnish. What is it?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Ball shifted obediently to the rubber-covered step, and bent his face + to his patron's ear. + </p> + <p> + “It's railrud,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “Railroad!” shouted Mr. Crewe, in a voice that made the grocer clutch his + arm in terror. “Don't pinch me like that. Railroad! This town ain't within + ten miles of the railroad.” + </p> + <p> + “For the love of David,” said Mr. Ball, “don't talk so loud, Mr. Crewe.” + </p> + <p> + “What's the railroad got to do with it?” Mr. Crewe demanded. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Ball glanced around him, to make sure that no one was within shouting + distance. + </p> + <p> + “What's the railrud got to do with anything in this State?” inquired Mr. + Ball, craftily. + </p> + <p> + “That's different,” said Mr. Crewe, shortly, “I'm a corporation man + myself. They've got to defend 'emselves.” + </p> + <p> + “Certain. I ain't got anything again' 'em,” Mr. Ball agreed quickly. “I + guess they know what they're about. By the bye, Mr. Crewe,” he added, + coming dangerously near the varnish again, and drawing back, “you hain't + happened to have seen Job Braden, have you?” + </p> + <p> + “Job Braden!” exclaimed Mr. Crewe, “Job Braden! What's all this mystery + about Job Braden? Somebody whispers that name in my ear every day. If you + mean that smooth-faced cuss that stutters and lives on Braden's Hill, I + called on him, but he was out. If you see him, tell him to come up to + Wedderburn, and I'll talk with him.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Ball made a gesture to indicate a feeling divided between respect for + Mr. Crewe and despair at the hardihood of such a proposition. + </p> + <p> + “Lord bless you, sir, Job wouldn't go.” + </p> + <p> + “Wouldn't go?” + </p> + <p> + “He never pays visits,—folks go to him.” + </p> + <p> + “He'd come to see me, wouldn't he?” + </p> + <p> + “I—I'm afraid riot, Mr. Crewe. Job holds his comb rather high.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you mean to say this two-for-a-cent town has a boss?” + </p> + <p> + “Silas Grantley was born here,” said Mr. Ball—for even the worm will + turn. “This town's got a noble history.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't care anything about Silas Grantley. What I want to know is, how + this rascal manages to make anything out of the political pickings of a + town like Leith.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, Job ain't exactly a rascal, Mr. Crewe. He's got a good many of them + hill farmers in a position of—of gratitude. Enough to control the + Republican caucus.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you mean he buys their votes?” demanded Mr. Crewe. + </p> + <p> + “It's like this,” explained Mr. Ball, “if one of 'em falls behind in his + grocery bill, for example, he can always get money from Job. Job takes a + mortgage, but he don't often close down on 'm. And Job has been collectin' + credentials in Avalon County for upward of forty years.” + </p> + <p> + “Collecting credentials?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. Gets a man nominated to State and county conventions that can't go, + and goes himself with a bunch of credentials. He's in a position to + negotiate. He was in all them railrud fights with Jethro Bass, and now he + does business with Hilary Vane or Brush Bascom when anything especial's + goin' on. You'd ought to see him, Mr. Crewe.” + </p> + <p> + “I guess I won't waste my time with any picayune boss if the United + Northeastern Railroads has any hand in this matter,” declared Mr. Crewe. + “Wind her up.” + </p> + <p> + This latter remark was addressed to a long-suffering chauffeur who looked + like a Sicilian brigand. + </p> + <p> + “I didn't exactly like to suggest it,” said Mr. Ball, rubbing his hands + and raising his voice above the whir of the machine, “but of course I knew + Mr. Flint was an intimate friend. A word to him from you—” + </p> + <p> + But by this Mr. Crewe had got in his second speed and was sweeping around + a corner lined with farmers' teams, whose animals were behaving like + circus horses. On his own driveway, where he arrived in incredibly brief + time, he met his stenographer, farm superintendent, secretary, + housekeeper, and general utility man, Mr. Raikes. Mr. Raikes was elderly, + and showed signs of needing a vacation. + </p> + <p> + “Telephone Mr. Flint, Raikes, and tell him I would like an appointment at + his earliest convenience, on important business.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Raikes, who was going for his daily stroll beside the river, wheeled + and made for the telephone, and brought back the news that Mr. Flint would + be happy to see Mr. Crewe the next afternoon at four o'clock. + </p> + <p> + This interview, about which there has been so much controversy in the + newspapers, and denials and counter-denials from the press bureaus of both + gentlemen,—this now historic interview began at four o'clock + precisely the next day. At that hour Mr. Crewe was ushered into that + little room in which Mr. Flint worked when at Fairview. Like Frederick the + Great and other famous captains, Mr. Flint believed in an iron bedstead + regime. The magnate was, as usual, fortified behind his oak desk; the + secretary with a bend in his back was in modest evidence; and an elderly + man of comfortable proportions, with a large gold watch-charm portraying + the rising sun, and who gave, somehow, the polished impression of a + marble, sat near the window smoking a cigar. Mr. Crewe approached the desk + with that genial and brisk manner for which he was noted and held out his + hand to the railroad president. + </p> + <p> + “We are both business men, and both punctual, Mr. Flint,” he said, and sat + down in the empty chair beside his host, eyeing without particular favour + him of the watch-charm, whose cigar was not a very good one. “I wanted to + have a little private conversation with you which might be of considerable + interest to us both.” And Mr. Crewe laid down on the desk a somewhat + formidable roll of papers. + </p> + <p> + “I trust the presence of Senator Whitredge will not deter you,” answered + Mr. Flint. “He is an old friend of mine.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Crewe was on his feet again with surprising alacrity, and beside the + senator's chair. + </p> + <p> + “How are you, Senator?” he said, “I have never had the pleasure of meeting + you, but I know you by reputation.” + </p> + <p> + The senator got to his feet. They shook hands, and exchanged cordial + greetings; and during the exchange Mr. Crewe looked out of the window, and + the senator's eyes were fixed on the telephone receiver on Mr. Flint's + desk. As neither gentleman took hold of the other's fingers very hard, + they fell apart quickly. + </p> + <p> + “I am very happy to meet you, Mr. Crewe,” said the senator. Mr. Crewe sat + down again, and not being hampered by those shrinking qualities so fatal + to success he went on immediately:—“There is nothing which I have to + say that the senator cannot hear. I made the appointment with you, Mr. + Flint, to talk over a matter which may be of considerable importance to us + both. I have made up my mind to go to the Legislature.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Crewe naturally expected to find visible effects of astonishment and + joy on the faces of his hearers at such not inconsiderable news. Mr. + Flint, however, looked serious enough, though the senator smiled as he + blew his smoke out of the window. + </p> + <p> + “Have you seen Job Braden, Mr. Crewe?” he asked, with genial jocoseness. + “They tell me that Job is still alive and kicking over in your parts.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, Senator,” said Mr. Crewe, “that brings me to the very point I + wish to emphasize. Everywhere in Leith I am met with the remark, 'Have you + seen Job Braden?' And I always answer, 'No, I haven't seen Mr. Braden, and + I don't intend to see him.”' + </p> + <p> + Mr. Whitredge laughed, and blew out a ring of smoke. Mr. Flint's face + remained sober. + </p> + <p> + “Now, Mr. Flint,” Mr. Crewe went on, “you and I understand each other, and + we're on the same side of the fence. I have inherited some interests in + corporations myself, and I have acquired an interest in others. I am a + director in several. I believe that it is the duty of property to protect + itself, and the duty of all good men in politics,—such as the + senator here,”—(bow from Mr. Whitredge)—“to protect property. + I am a practical man, and I think I can convince you, if you don't see it + already, that my determination to go to the Legislature is an advantageous + thing for your railroad.” + </p> + <p> + “The advent of a reputable citizen into politics is always a good thing + for the railroad, Mr. Crewe,” said Mr. Flint. + </p> + <p> + “Exactly,” Mr. Crewe agreed, ignoring the non-committal quality of this + remark, “and if you get a citizen who is a not inconsiderable property + holder, a gentleman, and a college graduate,—a man who, by study and + predilection, is qualified to bring about improved conditions in the + State, so much the better.” + </p> + <p> + “So much the better,” said Mr. Flint. + </p> + <p> + “I thought you would see it that way,” Mr. Crewe continued. “Now a man of + your calibre must have studied to some extent the needs of the State, and + it must have struck you that certain improvements go hand in hand with the + prosperity of your railroad.” + </p> + <p> + “Have a cigar, Mr. Crewe. Have another, Senator?” said Mr. Flint. “I think + that is safe as a general proposition, Mr. Crewe.” + </p> + <p> + “To specify,” said Mr. Crewe, laying his hand on the roll of papers he had + brought, “I have here bills which I have carefully drawn up and which I + will leave for your consideration. One is to issue bonds for ten millions + to build State roads.” + </p> + <p> + “Ten millions!” said Mr. Flint, and the senator whistled mildly. + </p> + <p> + “Think about it,” said Mr. Crewe, “the perfection of the highways through + the State, instead of decreasing your earnings, would increase them + tremendously. Visitors by the tens of thousands would come in automobiles, + and remain and buy summer places. The State would have its money back in + taxes and business in no time at all. I wonder somebody hasn't seen it + before—the stupidity of the country legislator is colossal. And we + want forestry laws, and laws for improving the condition of the farmers—all + practical things. They are all there,” Mr. Crewe declared, slapping the + bundle; “read them, Mr. Flint. If you have any suggestions to make, kindly + note them on the margin, and I shall be glad to go over them with you.” + </p> + <p> + By this time the senator was in a rare posture for him—he was seated + upright. + </p> + <p> + “As you know, I am a very busy man, Mr. Crewe,” said the railroad + president. + </p> + <p> + “No one appreciates that more fully than I do, Mr. Flint,” said Mr. Crewe; + “I haven't many idle hours myself. I think you will find the bills and my + comments on them well worth your consideration from the point of view of + advantage to your railroad. They are typewritten, and in concrete form. In + fact, the Northeastern Railroads and myself must work together to our + mutual advantage—that has become quite clear to me. I shall have + need of your help in passing the measures.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm afraid I don't quite understand you, Mr. Crewe,” said Mr. Flint, + putting down the papers. + </p> + <p> + “That is,” said Mr. Crewe, “if you approve of the bills, and I am + confident that I shall be able to convince you.” + </p> + <p> + “What do you want me to do?” asked the railroad president. + </p> + <p> + “Well, in the first place,” said Mr. Crewe, unabashed, “send word to your + man Braden that you've seen me and it's all right.” + </p> + <p> + “I assure you,” answered Mr. Flint, giving evidence for the first time of + a loss of patience, “that neither the Northeastern Railroads nor myself, + have any more to do with this Braden than you have.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Crewe, being a man of the world, looked incredulous. + </p> + <p> + “Senator,” Mr. Flint continued, turning to Mr. Whitredge, “you know as + much about politics in this State as any man of my acquaintance, have you + ever heard of any connection between this Braden and the Northeastern + Railroads?” + </p> + <p> + The senator had a laugh that was particularly disarming. + </p> + <p> + “Bless your soul, no,” he replied. “You will pardon me, Mr. Crewe, but you + must have been listening to some farmer's tale. The railroad is the + bugaboo in all these country romances. I've seen old Job Braden at + conventions ever since I was a lad. He's a back number, one of the few + remaining disciples and imitators of Jethro Bass: talks like him and acts + like him. In the old days when there were a lot of little railroads, he + and Bijah Bixby and a few others used to make something out of them, but + since the consolidation, and Mr. Flint's presidency, Job stays at home. + They tell me he runs Leith yet. You'd better go over and fix it up with + him.” + </p> + <p> + A somewhat sarcastic smile of satisfaction was playing over Mr. Flint's + face as he listened to the senator's words. As a matter of fact, they were + very nearly true as regarded Job Braden, but Mr. Crewe may be pardoned for + thinking that Mr. Flint was not showing him quite the confidence due from + one business and corporation man to another. He was by no means abashed,—Mr. + Crewe had too much spirit for that. He merely became—as a man whose + watchword is “thorough” will—a little more combative. + </p> + <p> + “Well, read the bills anyway, Mr. Flint, and I'll come and go over them + with you. You can't fail to see my arguments, and all I ask is that you + throw the weight of your organization at the State capital for them when + they come up.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Flint drummed on the table. + </p> + <p> + “The men who have held office in this State,” he said, “have always been + willing to listen to any suggestion I may have thought proper to make to + them. This is undoubtedly because I am at the head of the property which + pays the largest taxes. Needless to say I am chary of making suggestions. + But I am surprised that you should have jumped at a conclusion which is + the result of a popular and unfortunately prevalent opinion that the + Northeastern Railroads meddled in any way with the government or politics + of this State. I am glad of this opportunity of assuring you that we do + not,” he continued, leaning forward and holding up his hand to ward off + interruption, “and I know that Senator Whitredge will bear me out in this + statement, too.” + </p> + <p> + The senator nodded gravely. Mr. Crewe, who was anything but a fool, and + just as assertive as Mr. Flint, cut in. + </p> + <p> + “Look here, Mr. Flint,” he said, “I know what a lobby is. I haven't been a + director in railroads myself for nothing. I have no objection to a lobby. + You employ counsel before the Legislature, don't you—” + </p> + <p> + “We do,” said Mr. Flint, interrupting, “the best and most honourable + counsel we can find in the State. When necessary, they appear before the + legislative committees. As a property holder in the State, and an admirer + of its beauties, and as its well-wisher, it will give me great pleasure to + look over your bills, and use whatever personal influence I may have as a + citizen to forward them, should they meet my approval. And I am especially + glad to do this as a neighbour, Mr. Crewe. As a neighbour,” he repeated, + significantly. + </p> + <p> + The president of the Northeastern Railroads rose as he spoke these words, + and held out his hand to Mr. Crewe. It was perhaps a coincidence that the + senator rose also. + </p> + <p> + “All right,” said Mr. Crewe, “I'll call around again in about two weeks. + Come and see me sometime, Senator.” “Thank you,” said the senator, “I + shall be happy. And if you are ever in your automobile near the town of + Ramsey, stop at my little farm, Mr. Crewe. I trust to be able soon to + congratulate you on a step which I am sure will be but the beginning of a + long and brilliant political career.” + </p> + <p> + “Thanks,” said Mr. Crewe; “by the bye, if you could see your way to drop a + hint to that feller Braden, I should be much obliged.” + </p> + <p> + The senator shook his head and laughed. + </p> + <p> + “Job is an independent cuss,” he said, “I'm afraid he'd regard that as an + unwarranted trespass on his preserves.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Crewe was ushered out by the stooping secretary, Mr. Freeman; who, + instead of seizing Mr. Crewe's hand as he had Austen Vane's, said not a + word. But Mr. Crewe would have been interested if he could have heard Mr. + Flint's first remark to the senator after the door was closed on his back. + It did not relate to Mr. Crewe, but to the subject under discussion which + he had interrupted; namely, the Republican candidates for the twenty + senatorial districts of the State. + </p> + <p> + On its way back to Leith the red motor paused in front of Mr. Ball's + store, and that gentleman was summoned in the usual manner. + </p> + <p> + “Do you see this Braden once in a while?” Mr. Crewe demanded. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Ball looked knowing. + </p> + <p> + “Tell him I want to have a talk with him,” said Mr. Crewe. “I've been to + see Mr. Flint, and I think matters can be arranged. And mind you, no word + about this, Ball.” + </p> + <p> + “I guess I understand a thing or two,” said Mr. Ball. “Trust me to handle + it.” + </p> + <p> + Two days later, as Mr. Crewe was seated in his study, his man entered and + stood respectfully waiting for the time when he should look up from his + book. + </p> + <p> + “Well, what is it now, Waters?” + </p> + <p> + “If you please, sir,” said the man, “a strange message has come over the + telephone just now that you were to be in room number twelve of the Ripton + House to-morrow at ten o'clock. They wouldn't give any name, sir,” added + the dignified Waters, who, to tell the truth, was somewhat outraged, “nor + tell where they telephoned from. But it was a man's voice, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “All right,” said Mr. Crewe. + </p> + <p> + He spent much of the afternoon and evening debating whether or not his + dignity would permit him to go. But he ordered the motor at half-past + nine, and at ten o'clock precisely the clerk at the Ripton House was + bowing to him and handing him, deferentially, a dripping pen. + </p> + <p> + “Where's room number twelve?” said the direct Mr. Crewe. + </p> + <p> + “Oh,” said the clerk, and possessing a full share of the worldly wisdom of + his calling, he smiled broadly. “I guess you'll find him up there, Mr. + Crewe. Front, show the gentleman to number twelve.” + </p> + <p> + The hall boy knocked on the door of number twelve. + </p> + <p> + “C—come in,” said a voice. “Come in.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Crewe entered, the hall boy closed the door, and he found himself face + to face with a comfortable, smooth-faced man seated with great placidity + on a rocking-chair in the centre of the room, between the bed and the + marble-topped table: a man to whom, evidently, a rich abundance of thought + was sufficient company, for he had neither newspaper nor book. He rose in + a leisurely fashion, and seemed the very essence of the benign as he + stretched forth his hand. + </p> + <p> + “I'm Mr. Crewe,” the owner of that name proclaimed, accepting the hand + with no exaggeration of cordiality. The situation jarred on him a trifle. + </p> + <p> + “I know. Seed you on the road once or twice. How be you?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Crewe sat down. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose you are Mr. Braden,” he said. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Braden sank into the rocker and fingered a waistcoat pocket full of + cigars that looked like a section of a cartridge-belt. + </p> + <p> + “T—try one of mine,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “I only smoke once after breakfast,” said Mr. Crewe. + </p> + <p> + “Abstemious, be you? Never could find that it did me any hurt.” + </p> + <p> + This led to an awkward pause, Mr. Crewe not being a man who found profit + in idle discussion. He glanced at Mr. Braden's philanthropic and beaming + countenance, which would have made the fortune of a bishop. It was not + usual for Mr. Crewe to find it difficult to begin a conversation, or to + have a companion as self-sufficient as himself. This man Braden had all + the fun, apparently, in sitting in a chair and looking into space that + Stonewall Jackson had, or an ordinary man in watching a performance of “A + Trip to Chinatown.” Let it not be inferred, again, that Mr. Crewe was + abashed; but he was puzzled. + </p> + <p> + “I had an engagement in Ripton this morning,” he said, “to see about some + business matters. And after I received your telephone I thought I'd drop + in here.” + </p> + <p> + “Didn't telephone,” said Mr. Braden, placidly. + </p> + <p> + “What!” said Mr. Crewe, “I certainly got a telephone message.” + </p> + <p> + “N—never telephone,” said Mr. Braden. + </p> + <p> + “I certainly got a message from you,” Mr. Crewe protested. + </p> + <p> + “Didn't say it was from me—didn't say so—did they—” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Mr. Crewe, “but—” + </p> + <p> + “Told Ball you wanted to have me see you, didn't you?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Crewe, when he had unravelled this sentence, did not fancy the way it + was put. + </p> + <p> + “I told Ball I was seeing everybody in Leith,” he answered, “and that I + had called on you, and you weren't at home. Ball inferred that you had a + somewhat singular way of seeing people.” + </p> + <p> + “You don't understand,” was Mr. Braden's somewhat enigmatic reply. + </p> + <p> + “I understand pretty well,” said Mr. Crewe. “I'm a candidate for the + Republican nomination for representative from Leith, and I want your vote + and influence. You probably know what I have done for the town, and that + I'm the biggest taxpayer, and an all-the-year-round resident.” + </p> + <p> + “S—some in Noo York—hain't you?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, you can't expect a man in my position and with my interests to stay + at home all the time. I feel that I have a right to ask the town for this + nomination. I have some bills here which I'll request you to read over, + and you will see that I have ideas which are of real value to the State. + The State needs waking up-progressive measures. You're a farmer, ain't + you?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I have be'n.” + </p> + <p> + “I can improve the condition of the farmer one hundred per cent, and if my + road system is followed, he can get his goods to market for about a tenth + of what it costs him now. We have infinitely valuable forests in the State + which are being wasted by lumbermen, which ought to be preserved. You read + those bills, and what I have written about them.” + </p> + <p> + “You don't understand,” said Mr. Braden, drawing a little closer and + waving aside the manuscript with his cigar. + </p> + <p> + “Don't understand what?” + </p> + <p> + “Don't seem to understand,” repeated Mr. Braden, confidingly laying his + hand on Mr. Crewe's knee. “Candidate for representative, be you?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” replied Mr. Crewe, who was beginning to resent the manner in which + he deemed he was being played with, “I told you I was.” + </p> + <p> + “M—made all them bills out before you was chose?” said Mr. Braden. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Crewe grew red in the face. + </p> + <p> + “I am interested in these questions,” he said stiffly. + </p> + <p> + “Little mite hasty, wahn't it?” Mr. Braden remarked equably, “but you've + got plenty of time and money to fool with such things, if you've a mind + to. Them don't amount to a hill of beans in politics. Nobody pays any + attention to that sort of fireworks down to the capital, and if they was + to get into committee them Northeastern Railroads fellers'd bury 'em + deeper than the bottom of Salem pond. They don't want no such things as + them to pass.” + </p> + <p> + “Pardon me,” said Mr. Crewe, “but you haven't read 'em.” + </p> + <p> + “I know what they be,” said Mr. Braden, “I've be'n in politics more years + than you've be'n livin', I guess. I don't want to read 'em,” he announced, + his benign manner unchanged. + </p> + <p> + “I think you have made a mistake so far as the railroad is concerned, Mr. + Braden,” said Mr. Crewe, “I'm a practical man myself, and I don't indulge + in moonshine. I am a director in one or two railroads. I have talked this + matter over with Mr. Flint, and incidentally with Senator Whitredge.” + </p> + <p> + “Knowed Whitredge afore you had any teeth,” said Mr. Braden, who did not + seem to be greatly impressed, “know him intimate. What'd you go to Flint + for?” + </p> + <p> + “We have interests in common,” said Mr. Crewe, “and I am rather a close + friend of his. My going to the Legislature will be, I think, to our mutual + advantage.” + </p> + <p> + “O—ought to have come right to me,” said Mr. Braden, leaning over + until his face was in close proximity to Mr. Crewe's. “Whitredge told you + to come to me, didn't he?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Crewe was a little taken aback. + </p> + <p> + “The senator mentioned your name,” he admitted. + </p> + <p> + “He knows. Said I was the man to see if you was a candidate, didn't he? + Told you to talk to Job Braden, didn't he?” + </p> + <p> + Now Mr. Crewe had no means of knowing whether Senator Whitredge had been + in conference with Mr. Braden or not. + </p> + <p> + “The senator mentioned your name casually, in some connection,” said Mr. + Crewe. + </p> + <p> + “He knows,” Mr. Braden repeated, with a finality that spoke volumes for + the senator's judgment; and he bent over into Mr. Crewe's ear, with the + air of conveying a mild but well-merited reproof, “You'd ought to come + right to me in the first place. I could have saved you all that + unnecessary trouble of seein' folks. There hasn't be'n a representative + left the town of Leith for thirty years that I hain't agreed to. Whitredge + knows that. If I say you kin go, you kin go. You understand,” said Mr. + Braden, with his fingers on Mr. Crewe's knee once more. + </p> + <p> + Five minutes later Mr. Crewe emerged into the dazzling sun of the Ripton + square, climbed into his automobile, and turned its head towards Leith, + strangely forgetting the main engagement which he said had brought him to + town. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0008" id="link2HCH0008"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VIII. THE TRIALS OF AN HONOURABLE + </h2> + <p> + It was about this time that Mr. Humphrey Crewe was transformed, by one of + those subtle and inexplicable changes which occur in American politics, + into the Honourable Humphrey Crewe. And, as interesting bits of news about + important people are bound to leak out, it became known in Leith that he + had subscribed to what is known as a Clipping Bureau. Two weeks after the + day he left Mr. Braden's presence in the Ripton House the principal + newspapers of the country contained the startling announcement that the + well-known summer colony of Leith was to be represented in the State + Legislature by a millionaire. The Republican nomination, which Mr. Crewe + had secured, was equivalent to an election. + </p> + <p> + For a little time after that Mr. Crewe, although naturally an important + and busy man, scarcely had time to nod to his friends on the road. + </p> + <p> + “Poor dear Humphrey,” said Mrs. Pomfret, “who was so used to dropping in + to dinner, hasn't had a moment to write me a line to thank me for the + statesman's diary I bought for him in London this spring. They're in that + new red leather, and Aylestone says he finds his so useful. I dropped in + at Wedderburn to-day to see if I could be of any help, and the poor man + was buttonholed by two reporters who had come all the way from New York to + see him. I hope he won't overdo it.” + </p> + <p> + It was true. Mr. Crewe was to appear in the Sunday supplements. “Are our + Millionaires entering Politics?” Mr. Crewe, with his usual gracious + hospitality, showed the reporters over the place, and gave them + suggestions as to the best vantage-points in which to plant their cameras. + He himself was at length prevailed upon to be taken in a rough homespun + suit, and with a walking-stick in his hand, appraising with a knowing eye + a flock of his own sheep. Pressed a little, he consented to relate + something of the systematic manner in which he had gone about to secure + this nomination: how he had visited in person the homes of his + fellow-townsmen. “I knew them all, anyway,” he is quoted as saying; “we + have had the pleasantest of relationships during the many years I have + been a resident of Leith.” + </p> + <p> + “Beloved of his townspeople,” this part of the article was headed. No, + these were not Mr. Crewe's words—he was too modest for that. When + urged to give the name of one of his townsmen who might deal with this and + other embarrassing topics, Mr. Ball was mentioned. “Beloved of his + townspeople” was Mr. Ball's phrase. “Although a multi-millionaire, no man + is more considerate of the feelings and the rights of his more humble + neighbours. Send him to the Legislature! We'd send him to the United + States Senate if we could. He'll land there, anyway.” Such was a random + estimate (Mr. Ball's) the reporters gathered on their way to Ripton. Mr. + Crewe did not hesitate to say that the prosperity of the farmers had risen + as a result of his labours at Wedderburn where the most improved machinery + and methods were adopted. His efforts to raise the agricultural, as well + as the moral and intellectual, tone of the community had been unceasing. + </p> + <p> + Then followed an intelligent abstract of the bills he was to introduce—the + results of a progressive and statesmanlike brain. There was an account of + him as a methodical and painstaking business man whose suggestions to the + boards of directors of which he was a member had been invaluable. The + article ended with a list of the clubs to which he belonged, of the + societies which he had organized and of those of which he was a member,—and + it might have been remarked by a discerning reader that most of these + societies were State affairs. Finally there was a pen portrait of an + Apollo Belvidere who wore the rough garb of a farmer (on the days when the + press was present). + </p> + <p> + Mr. Crewe's incessant trials, which would have taxed a less rugged nature, + did not end here. About five o'clock one afternoon a pleasant-appearing + gentleman with a mellifluous voice turned up who introduced himself as ex + (State) Senator Grady. The senator was from Newcastle, that city out of + the mysterious depths of which so many political stars have arisen. Mr. + Crewe cancelled a long-deferred engagement with Mrs. Pomfret, and invited + the senator to stay to dinner; the senator hesitated, explained that he + was just passing through Ripton, and, as it was a pleasant afternoon, had + called to “pay his respects”; but Mr. Crewe's well-known hospitality would + accept no excuses. Mr. Crewe opened a box of cigars which he had bought + especially for the taste of State senators and a particular grade of + Scotch whiskey. + </p> + <p> + They talked politics for four hours. Who would be governor? The senator + thought Asa Gray would. The railroad was behind him, Mr. Crewe observed + knowingly. The senator remarked that Mr. Crewe was no gosling. Mr. Crewe, + as political-geniuses will, asked as many questions as the emperor of + Germany—pertinent questions about State politics. Senator Grady was + tremendously impressed with his host's programme of bills, and went over + them so painstakingly that Mr. Crewe became more and more struck with + Senator Grady's intelligence. The senator told Mr. Crewe that just such a + man as he was needed to pull the State out of the rut into which she had + fallen. Mr. Crewe said that he hoped to find such enlightened men in the + Legislature as the senator. The senator let it be known that he had read + the newspaper articles, and had remarked that Mr. Crewe was close to the + president of the Northeastern Railroads. + </p> + <p> + “Such a man as you,” said the senator, looking at the remainder of the + Scotch whiskey, “will have the railroad behind you, sure.” + </p> + <p> + “One more drink,” said Mr. Crewe. + </p> + <p> + “I must go,” said Mr. Grady, pouring it out, “but that reminds me. It + comes over me sudden-like, as I sit here, that you certainly ought to be + in the new encyclopeedie of the prominent men of the State. But sure you + have received an application.” + </p> + <p> + “It is probable that my secretary has one,” said Mr. Crewe, “but he hasn't + called it to my attention.” + </p> + <p> + “You must get in that book, Mr. Crewe,” said the senator, with an intense + earnestness which gave the impression of alarm; “after what you've told me + to-night I'll see to it myself that you get in. It may be that I've got + some of the sample pages here, if I haven't left them at home,” said Mr. + Grady, fumbling in an ample inside pocket, and drawing forth a bundle. + “Sure, here they are. Ain't that luck for you? Listen! 'Asa P. Gray was + born on the third of August, eighteen forty-seven, the seventh son of a + farmer. See, there's a space in the end they left to fill up when he's + elicted governor! Here's another. The Honourable Hilary Vane comes from + one of the oldest Puritan families in the State, the Vanes of Camden + Street—' Here's another. 'The Honourable Brush Bascom of Putnam + County is the son of poor but honourable parents—' Look at the + picture of him. Ain't that a handsome steel-engravin' of the gentleman?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Crewe gazed contemplatively at the proof, but was too busy with his + own thoughts to reflect that there was evidently not much poor or + honourable about Mr. Bascom now. + </p> + <p> + “Who's publishing this?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “Fogarty and Company; sure they're the best publishers in the State, as + you know, Mr. Crewe. They have the State printing. Wasn't it fortunate I + had the proofs with me? Tim Fogarty slipped them into me pocket when I was + leavin' Newcastle. 'The book is goin' to press the day after eliction,' + says he, 'John,' says he, 'you know I always rely on your judgment, and if + you happen to think of anybody between now and then who ought to go in, + you'll notify me,' says he. When I read the bills to-night, and saw the + scope of your work, it came over me in a flash that Humphrey Crewe was the + man they left out. You'll get a good man to write your life, and what you + done for the town and State, and all them societies and bills, won't you? + 'Twould be a thousand pities not to have it right.” + </p> + <p> + “How much does it cost?” Mr. Crewe inquired. + </p> + <p> + “Sure I forgot to ask Tim Fogarty. Mebbe he has it here. I signed one + myself, but I couldn't afford the steelengravin'. Yes, he slipped one in. + Two hundred dollars for a two-page biography, and, three hundred for the + steelengravin'. Five hundred dollars. I didn't know it was so cheap as + that,” exclaimed the senator, “and everybody in the State havin' to own + one in self-protection. You don't happen to have a pen about you?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Crewe waved the senator towards his own desk, and Mr. Grady filled out + the blank. + </p> + <p> + “It's lucky we are that I didn't drop in after eliction, and the book in + press,” he remarked; “and I hope you'll give him a good photograph. This's + for you, I'll take this to Tim myself,” and he handed the pen for Mr. + Crewe to sign with. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Crewe read over the agreement carefully, as a business man should, + before putting his signature to it. And then the senator, with renewed + invitations for Mr. Crewe to call on him when he came to Newcastle, took + his departure. Afterwards Mr. Crewe remained so long in reflection that + his man Waters became alarmed, and sought him out and interrupted his + revery. + </p> + <p> + The next morning Mrs. Pomfret, who was merely “driving by” with her + daughter Alice and Beatrice Chillingham, spied Mr. Crewe walking about + among the young trees he was growing near the road, and occasionally + tapping them with his stout stick. She poked her coachman in the back and + cried:—“Humphrey, you're such an important man now that I despair of + ever seeing you again. What was the matter last night?” + </p> + <p> + “A politician from Newcastle,” answered Mr. Crewe, continuing to tap the + trees, and without so much as a glance at Alice. + </p> + <p> + “Well, if you're as important as this before you're elected, I can't think + what it will be afterwards,” Mrs. Pomfret lamented. “Poor dear Humphrey is + so conscientious. When can you come, Humphrey?” + </p> + <p> + “Don't know,” said Mr. Crewe; “I'll try to come tonight, but I may be + stopped again. Here's Waters now.” + </p> + <p> + The three people in Mrs. Pomfret's victoria were considerably impressed to + see the dignified Waters hurrying down the slope from the house towards + them. Mr. Crewe continued to tap the trees, but drew a little nearer the + carriage. + </p> + <p> + “If you please, sir,” said Waters, “there's a telephone call for you from + Newcastle. It's urgent, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Who is it?” + </p> + <p> + “They won't give their names, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “All right,” said Mr. Crewe, and with a grin which spoke volumes for the + manner in which he was harassed he started towards the house—in no + great hurry, however. Reaching the instrument, and saying “Hello” in his + usually gracious manner, he was greeted by a voice with a decided + Hibernian-American accent. + </p> + <p> + “Am I talkin' to Mr. Crewe?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Humphrey Crewe?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes—yes, of course you are. Who are you?” + </p> + <p> + “I'm the president of the Paradise Benevolent and Military Association, + Mr. Crewe. Boys that work in the mills, you know,” continued the voice, + caressingly. “Sure you've heard of us. We're five hundred strong, and all + of us good Republicans as the president. We're to have our annual fall + outing the first of October in Finney Grove, and we'd like to have you + come down.” + </p> + <p> + “The first of October?” said Mr. Crewe. “I'll consult my engagement book.” + </p> + <p> + “We'd like to have a good picture of you in our programme, Mr. Crewe. We + hope you'll oblige us. You're such an important figure in State politics + now you'd ought to have a full page.” + </p> + <p> + There was a short silence. + </p> + <p> + “What does it cost?” Mr. Crewe demanded. + </p> + <p> + “Sure,” said the caressing voice of the president, “whatever you like.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll send you a check for five dollars, and a picture,” said Mr. Crewe. + </p> + <p> + The answer to this was a hearty laugh, which the telephone reproduced + admirably. The voice now lost a little of its caressing note and partook + of a harder quality. + </p> + <p> + “You're a splendid humorist, Mr. Crewe. Five dollars wouldn't pay for the + plate and the paper. A gentleman like you could give us twenty-five, and + never know it was gone. You won't be wanting to stop in the Legislature, + Mr. Crewe, and we remember our friends in Newcastle.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well, I'll see what I can do. Good-by, I've got an engagement,” said + Mr. Crewe, and slammed down the telephone. He seated himself in his chair, + and the pensive mood so characteristic (we are told) of statesmen came + over him once more. + </p> + <p> + While these and other conferences and duties too numerous to mention were + absorbing Mr. Crewe, he was not too busy to bear in mind the pleasure of + those around him who had not received such an abundance of the world's + blessings as he. The townspeople of Leith were about to bestow on him + their greatest gift. What could he do to show his appreciation? Wrestling + with this knotty problem, a brilliant idea occurred to him,—he would + have a garden-party: invite everybody in town, and admit them to the + sanctities of Wedderburn; yes, even of Wedderburn house, that they might + behold with their own eyes the carved ivory elephants and other contents + of glass cabinets which reeked of the Sunday afternoons of youth. Being a + man of action, Mr. Pardriff was summoned at once from Leith and asked for + his lowest price on eight hundred and fifty invitations and a notice of + the party in the Ripton Record. + </p> + <p> + “Goin' to invite Democrats, too?” demanded Mr. Pardriff, glancing at the + check-list. + </p> + <p> + “Everybody,” said Mr. Crewe, with unparalleled generosity. “I won't draw + any distinction between friends and enemies. They're all neighbours.” + </p> + <p> + “And some of 'em might, by accident, vote the Republican ticket,” Mr. + Pardriff retorted, narrowing his eyes a little. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Crewe evidently thought this a negligible suggestion, for he did not + reply to it, but presently asked for the political news in Ripton. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said Mr. Pardriff, “you know they tried to get Austen Vane to run + for State senator, don't you?” + </p> + <p> + “Vane Why, he ain't a full-fledged lawyer yet. I've hired him in an + unimportant case. Who asked him to run?” + </p> + <p> + “Young Tom Gaylord and a delegation.” + </p> + <p> + “He couldn't have got it,” said Mr. Crewe. + </p> + <p> + “I don't know,” said Mr. Pardriff, “he might have given Billings a hustle + for the nomination.” + </p> + <p> + “You supported Billings, I noticed,” said Mr. Crewe. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Pardriff winked an eye. + </p> + <p> + “I'm not ready to walk the ties when I go to Newcastle,” he remarked, “and + Nat ain't quite bankrupt yet. The Gaylords,” continued Mr. Pardriff, who + always took the cynical view of a man of the world, “have had some row + with the Northeastern over lumber shipments. I understand they're goin' to + buck 'em for a franchise in the next Legislature, just to make it lively. + The Gaylords ain't exactly poverty-stricken, but they might as well try to + move Sawanec Mountain as the Northeastern.” + </p> + <p> + It was a fact that young Tom Gaylord had approached Austen Vane with a + “delegation” to request him to be a candidate for the Republican + nomination for the State senate in his district against the railroad + candidate and Austen's late opponent, the Honourable Nat Billings. It was + a fact also that Austen had invited the delegation to sit down, although + there were only two chairs, and that a wrestling match had ensued with + young Tom, in the progress of which one chair had been broken. Young Tom + thought it was time to fight the railroad, and perceived in Austen the + elements of a rebel leader. Austen had undertaken to throw young Tom out + of a front window, which was a large, old-fashioned one,—and after + Herculean efforts had actually got him on the ledge, when something in the + street caught his eye and made him desist abruptly. The something was the + vision of a young woman in a brown linen suit seated in a runabout and + driving a horse almost as handsome as Pepper. + </p> + <p> + When the delegation, after exhausting their mental and physical powers of + persuasion, had at length taken their departure in disgust, Austen opened + mechanically a letter which had very much the appearance of an + advertisement, and bearing a one-cent stamp. It announced that a + garden-party would take place at Wedderburn, the home of the Honourable + Humphrey Crewe, at a not very distant date, and the honour of the bearer's + presence was requested. Refreshments would be served, and the Ripton Band + would dispense music. Below, in small print, were minute directions where + to enter, where to hitch your team, and where to go out. + </p> + <p> + Austen was at a loss to know what fairy godmother had prompted Mr. Crewe + to send him an invitation, the case of the injured horse not having + advanced with noticeable rapidity. Nevertheless, the prospect of the + garden-party dawned radiantly for him above what had hitherto been a + rather gloomy horizon. Since the afternoon he had driven Victoria to the + Hammonds' he had had daily debates with an imaginary man in his own + likeness who, to the detriment of his reading of law, sat across his table + and argued with him. The imaginary man was unprincipled, and had no + dignity, but he had such influence over Austen Vane that he had induced + him to drive twice within sight of Fairview gate, when Austen Vane had + turned round again. The imaginary man was for going to call on her and + letting subsequent events take care of themselves; Austen Vane, had an + uncomfortable quality of reducing a matter first of all to its simplest + terms. He knew that Mr. Flint's views were as fixed, ineradicable, and + unchangeable as an epitaph cut in a granite monument; he felt (as Mr. + Flint had) that their first conversation had been but a forerunner of, a + strife to come between them; and add to this the facts that Mr. Flint was + very rich and Austen Vane poor, that Victoria's friends were not his + friends, and that he had grave doubts that the interest she had evinced in + him sprang from any other incentive than a desire to have communication + with various types of humanity, his hesitation as to entering Mr. Flint's + house was natural enough. + </p> + <p> + It was of a piece with Mr. Crewe's good fortune of getting what he wanted + that the day of the garden-party was the best that September could do in + that country, which is to say that it was very beautiful. A pregnant + stillness enwrapped the hills, a haze shot with gold dust, like the + filmiest of veils, softened the distant purple and the blue-black shadows + under the pines. Austen awoke from his dream in this enchanted borderland + to find himself in a long line of wagons filled with people in their + Sunday clothes,—the men in black, and the young women in white, with + gay streamers, wending their way through the rear-entrance drive of + Wedderburn, where one of Mr. Crewe's sprucest employees was taking up the + invitation cards like tickets,—a precaution to prevent the rowdy + element from Ripton coming and eating up the refreshments. Austen + obediently tied Pepper in a field, as he was directed, and made his way by + a path through the woods towards the house, where the Ripton Band could be + heard playing the second air in the programme, “Don't you wish you'd + Waited?” + </p> + <p> + For a really able account of that memorable entertainment see the Ripton + Record of that week, for we cannot hope to vie with Mr. Pardriff when his + heart is really in his work. How describe the noble figure of Mr. Crewe as + it burst upon Austen when he rounded the corner of the house? Clad in a + rough-and-ready manner, with a Gladstone collar to indicate the newly + acquired statesmanship, and fairly radiating geniality, Mr. Crewe stood at + the foot of the steps while the guests made the circuit of the driveway; + and they carefully avoided, in obedience to a warning sign, the grass + circle in the centre. As man and wife confronted him, Mr. Crewe greeted + them in hospitable but stentorian tones that rose above the strains of + “Don't you wish you'd Waited?” It was Mr. Ball who introduced his + townspeople to the great man who was to represent them. + </p> + <p> + “How are you?” said Mr. Crewe, with his eyes on the geraniums. “Mr. and + Mrs. Perley Wright, eh? Make yourselves at home. Everything's free—you'll + find the refreshments on the back porch—just have an eye to the + signs posted round, that's all.” And Mr. and Mrs. Perley Wright, + overwhelmed by such a welcome, would pass on into a back eddy of + neighbours, where they would stick, staring at a sign requesting them + please not to pick the flowers. + </p> + <p> + “Can't somebody stir 'em up?” Mr. Crewe shouted in an interval when the + band had stopped to gather strength for a new effort. “Can't somebody move + 'em round to see the cows and what's in the house and the automobile and + the horses? Move around the driveway, please. It's so hot here you can't + breathe. Some of you wanted to see what was in the house. Now's your + chance.” + </p> + <p> + This graceful appeal had some temporary effect, but the congestion soon + returned, when a man of the hour appeared, a man whose genius scattered + the groups and who did more to make the party a success than any single + individual,—Mr. Hamilton Tooting, in a glorious white silk necktie + with purple flowers. + </p> + <p> + “I'll handle 'em, Mr. Crewe,” he said; “a little brains'll start 'em + goin'. Come along here, Mr. Wright, and I'll show you the best cows this + side of the Hudson Riverall pedigreed prize winners. Hello, Aust, you take + hold and get the wimmen-folks interested in the cabinets. You know where + they are.” + </p> + <p> + “There's a person with some sense,” remarked Mrs. Pomfret, who had been at + a little distance among a group of summer-resident ladies and watching the + affair with shining eyes. “I'll help. Come, Edith; come, Victoria where's + Victoria?—and dear Mrs. Chillingham. We American women are so + deplorably lacking in this kind of experience. Alice, take some of the + women into the garden. I'm going to interest that dear, benevolent man who + looks so helpless, and doing his best to have a good time.” + </p> + <p> + The dear, benevolent man chanced to be Mr. Job Braden, who was standing + somewhat apart with his hands in his pockets. He did not move as Mrs. + Pomfret approached him, holding her glasses to her eyes. + </p> + <p> + “How are you?” exclaimed that lady, extending a white-gloved hand with a + cordiality that astonished her friends. “It is so pleasant to see you + here, Mr.—Mr.—” + </p> + <p> + “How be you?” said Mr. Braden, taking her fingers in the gingerly manner + he would have handled one of Mr. Crewe's priceless curios. The giraffe Mr. + Barnum had once brought to Ripton was not half as interesting as this + immaculate and mysterious production of foreign dressmakers and French + maids, but he refrained from betraying it. His eye rested on the + lorgnette. + </p> + <p> + “Near-sighted, be you?” he inquired,—a remark so unexpected that for + the moment Mrs. Pomfret was deprived of speech. + </p> + <p> + “I manage to see better with—with these,” she gasped, “when we get + old—you know.” + </p> + <p> + “You hain't old,” said Mr. Braden, gallantly. “If you be,” he added, his + eye travelling up and down the Parisian curves, “I wouldn't have suspected + it—not a mite.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm afraid you are given to flattery, Mr.—Mr.—” she replied + hurriedly. “Whom have I the pleasure of speaking to?” + </p> + <p> + “Job Braden's my name,” he answered, “but you have the advantage of me.” + </p> + <p> + “How?” demanded the thoroughly bewildered Mrs. Pomfret. + </p> + <p> + “I hain't heard your name,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I'm Mrs. Pomfret—a very old friend of Mr. Crewe's. Whenever he + has his friends with him, like this, I come over and help him. It is so + difficult for a bachelor to entertain, Mr. Braden.” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said Mr. Braden, bending alarmingly near her ear, “there's one way + out of it.” + </p> + <p> + “What's that?” said Mrs. Pomfret. + </p> + <p> + “Git married,” declared Mr. Braden. + </p> + <p> + “How very clever you are, Mr. Braden! I wish poor dear Mr. Crewe would get + married—a wife could take so many burdens off his shoulders. You + don't know Mr. Crewe very well, do you?” + </p> + <p> + “Callate to—so so,” said Mr. Braden. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Pomfret was at sea again. + </p> + <p> + “I mean, do you see him often?” + </p> + <p> + “Seen him once,” said Mr. Braden. “G-guess that's enough.” + </p> + <p> + “You're a shrewd judge of human nature, Mr. Braden,” she replied, tapping + him on the shoulder with the lorgnette, “but you can have no idea how good + he is—how unceasingly he works for others. He is not a man who gives + much expression to his feelings, as no doubt you have discovered, but if + you knew him as I do, you would realize how much affection he has for his + country neighbours and how much he has their welfare at heart.” + </p> + <p> + “Loves 'em—does he—loves 'em?” + </p> + <p> + “He is like an English gentleman in his sense of responsibility,” said + Mrs. Pomfret; “over there, you know, it is a part of a country gentleman's + duty to improve the condition of his—his neighbours. And then Mr. + Crewe is so fond of his townspeople that he couldn't resist doing this for + them,” and she indicated with a sweep of her eyeglasses the beatitude with + which they were surrounded. + </p> + <p> + “Wahn't no occasion to,” said Mr. Braden. + </p> + <p> + “What!” cried Mrs. Pomfret, who had been walking on ice for some time. + </p> + <p> + “This hain't England—is it? Hain't England?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” she admitted, “but—” + </p> + <p> + “Hain't England,” said Mr. Braden, and leaned forward until he was within + a very few inches of her pearl ear-ring. “He'll be chose all right—d-don't + fret—he'll be chose.” + </p> + <p> + “My dear Mr. Braden, I've no doubt of it—Mr. Crewe's so popular,” + she cried, removing her ear-ring abruptly from the danger zone. “Do make + yourself at home,” she added, and retired from Mr. Braden's company a + trifle disconcerted,—a new experience for Mrs. Pomfret. She wondered + whether all country people were like Mr. Braden, but decided, after + another experiment or two, that he was an original. More than once during + the afternoon she caught sight of him, beaming upon the festivities around + him. But she did not renew the conversation. + </p> + <p> + To Austen Vane, wandering about the grounds, Mr. Crewe's party presented a + sociological problem of no small interest. Mr. Crewe himself interested + him, and he found himself speculating how far a man would go who charged + the fastnesses of the politicians with a determination not to be denied + and a bank account to be reckoned with. Austen talked to many of the Leith + farmers whom he had known from boyhood, thanks to his custom of roaming + the hills; they were for the most part honest men whose occupation in life + was the first thought, and they were content to leave politics to Mr. + Braden—that being his profession. To the most intelligent of these + Mr. Crewe's garden-party was merely the wanton whim of a millionaire. It + was an open secret to them that Job Braden for reasons of his own had + chosen Mr. Crewe to represent them, and they were mildly amused at the + efforts of Mrs. Pomfret and her assistants to secure votes which were as + certain as the sun's rising on the morrow. + </p> + <p> + It was some time before Austen came upon the object of his search—though + scarce admitting to himself that it had an object. In greeting him, after + inquiring about his railroad case, Mr. Crewe had indicated with a wave of + his hand the general direction of the refreshments; but it was not until + Austen had tried in all other quarters that he made his way towards the + porch where the lemonade and cake and sandwiches were. It was, after all, + the most popular place, though to his mind the refreshments had little to + do with its popularity. From the outskirts of the crowd he perceived + Victoria presiding over the punchbowl that held the lemonade. He liked to + think of her as Victoria; the name had no familiarity for him, but seemed + rather to enhance the unattainable quality of her. + </p> + <p> + Surrounding Victoria were several clean-looking, freckled, and tanned + young men of undergraduate age wearing straw hats with coloured ribbons, + who showed every eagerness to obey and even anticipate the orders she did + not hesitate to give them. Her eye seemed continually on the alert for + those of Mr. Crewe's guests who were too bashful to come forward, and + discerning them she would send one of her lieutenants forward with + supplies. Sometimes she would go herself to the older people; and once, + perceiving a tired woman holding a baby (so many brought babies, being + unable to leave them), Victoria impulsively left her post and seized the + woman by the arm. + </p> + <p> + “Do come and sit down,” she cried; “there's a chair beside me. And oh, + what a nice baby! Won't you let me hold him?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, yes, ma'am,” said the woman, looking up at Victoria with grateful, + patient eyes, and then with awe at what seemed to her the priceless + embroidery on Victoria's waist, “won't he spoil your dress?” + </p> + <p> + “Bless him, no,” said Victoria, poking her finger into a dimple—for + he was smiling at her. “What if he does?” and forthwith she seized him in + her arms and bore him to the porch, amidst the laughter of those who + beheld her, and sat him down on her knee in front of the lemonade bowl, + the tired mother beside her. “Will a little lemonade hurt him? Just a + very, very little, you know?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, no, ma'am,” said the mother. + </p> + <p> + “And just a teeny bit of cake,” begged Victoria, daintily breaking off a + piece, while the baby gurgled and snatched for it. “Do tell me how old he + is, and how many more you have.” + </p> + <p> + “He's eleven months on the twenty-seventh,” said the mother, “and I've got + four more.” She sighed, her eyes wandering back to the embroidery. “What + between them and the housework and the butter makin', it hain't easy. Be + you married?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Victoria, laughing and blushing a little. + </p> + <p> + “You'll make a good wife for somebody,” said the woman. “I hope you'll get + a good man.” + </p> + <p> + “I hope so, too,” said Victoria, blushing still deeper amidst the + laughter, “but there doesn't seem to be much chance of it, and good men + are very scarce.” + </p> + <p> + “I guess you're right,” said the mother, soberly. “Not but what my man's + good enough, but he don't seem to get along, somehow. The farm's wore out, + and the mortgage comes around so regular.” + </p> + <p> + “Where do you live?” asked Victoria, suddenly growing serious. + </p> + <p> + “Fitch's place. 'Tain't very far from the Four Corners, on the Avalon + road.” + </p> + <p> + “And you are Mrs. Fitch?” + </p> + <p> + “Callate to be,” said the mother. “If it ain't askin' too much, I'd like + to know your name.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm Victoria Flint. I live not very far from the Four Corners—that + is, about eight miles. May I come over and see you sometime?” + </p> + <p> + Although Victoria said this very simply, the mother's eyes widened until + one might almost have said they expressed a kind of terror. + </p> + <p> + “Land sakes alive, be you Mr. Flint's daughter? I might have knowed it + from the lace—that dress must have cost a fortune. But I didn't + think to find you so common.” + </p> + <p> + Victoria did not smile. She had heard the word “common” so used before, + and knew that it was meant for a compliment, and she turned to the woman + with a very expressive light in her eyes. + </p> + <p> + “I will come to see you—this very week,” she said. And just then her + glance, seemingly drawn in a certain direction, met that of a tall young + man which had been fixed upon her during the whole of this scene. She + coloured again, abruptly handed the baby back to his mother, and rose. + </p> + <p> + “I'm neglecting all these people,” she said, “but do sit there and rest + yourself and—have some more lemonade.” + </p> + <p> + She bowed to Austen, and smiled a little as she filled the glasses, but + she did not beckon him. She gave no further sign of her knowledge of his + presence until he stood beside her—and then she looked up at him. + </p> + <p> + “I have been looking for you, Miss Flint,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose a man would never think of trying the obvious places first,” + she replied. “Hastings, don't you see that poor old woman over there? She + looks so thirsty—give her this.” + </p> + <p> + The boy addressed, with a glance at Austen, did as he was bid, and she + sent off a second on another errand. + </p> + <p> + “Let me help,” said Austen, seizing the cake; and being seized at the same + time, by an unusual and inexplicable tremor of shyness, thrust it at the + baby. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, he can't have anymore; do you want to kill him?” cried Victoria, + seizing the plate, and adding mischievously, “I don't believe you're of + very much use—after all!” + </p> + <p> + “Then it's time I learned,” said Austen. “Here's Mr. Jenney. I'm sure + he'll have a piece.” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said Mr. Jenney, the same Mr. Jenney of the apple orchard, but + holding out a horny hand with unmistakable warmth, “how be you, Austen?” + Looking about him, Mr. Jenney put his hand to his mouth, and added, + “Didn't expect to see you trailin' on to this here kite.” He took a piece + of cake between his thumb and forefinger and glanced bashfully at + Victoria. + </p> + <p> + “Have some lemonade, Mr. Jenney? Do,” she urged. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I don't care if I do,” he said, “just a little mite.” He did not + attempt to stop her as she filled the glass to the brim, but continued to + regard her with a mixture of curiosity and admiration. “Seen you nursin' + the baby and makin' folks at home. Guess you have the knack of it better'n + some I could mention.” + </p> + <p> + This was such a palpable stroke at their host that Victoria laughed, and + made haste to turn the subject from herself. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Vane seems to be an old friend of yours,” she said. + </p> + <p> + “Why,” said Mr. Jenney, laying his hand on Austen's shoulder, “I callate + he is. Austen's broke in more'n one of my colts afore he went West and + shot that feller. He's as good a judge of horse-flesh as any man in this + part of the State. Hear Tom Gaylord and the boys wanted him to be State + senator.” + </p> + <p> + “Why didn't you accept, Mr. Vane?” + </p> + <p> + “Because I don't think the boys could have elected me,” answered Austen, + laughing. + </p> + <p> + “He's as popular a man as there is in the county,” declared Mr. Jenney. + “He was a mite wild as a boy, but sence he's sobered down and won that + case against the railrud, he could get any office he'd a mind to. He's + always adoin' little things for folks, Austen is.” + </p> + <p> + “Did—did that case against the railroad make him so popular?” asked + Victoria, glancing at Austen's broad back—for he had made his escape + with the cake. + </p> + <p> + “I guess it helped considerable,” Mr. Jenney admitted. + </p> + <p> + “Why?” asked Victoria. + </p> + <p> + “Well, it was a fearless thing to do—plumb against his own interests + with old Hilary Vane. Austen's a bright lawyer, and I have heard it said + he was in line for his father's place as counsel.” + </p> + <p> + “Do—do people dislike the railroad?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Jenney rubbed his beard thoughtfully. He began to wonder who this + young woman was, and a racial caution seized him. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” he said, “folks has an idea the railrud runs this State to suit + themselves. I guess they hain't far wrong. I've be'n to the Legislature + and seen some signs of it. Why, Hilary Vane himself has charge of the most + considerable part of the politics. Who be you?” Mr. Jenney demanded + suddenly. + </p> + <p> + “I'm Victoria Flint,” said Victoria. + </p> + <p> + “Godfrey!” exclaimed Mr. Jenney, “you don't say so! I might have known it—seen + you on the rud more than once. But I don't know all you rich folks apart. + Wouldn't have spoke so frank if I'd knowed who you was.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm glad you did, Mr. Jenney,” she answered. “I wanted to know what + people think.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, it's almighty complicated,” said Mr. Jenney, shaking his head. “I + don't know by rights what to think. As long as I've said what I have, I'll + say this: that the politicians is all for the railrud, and I hain't got a + mite of use for the politicians. I'll vote for a feller like Austen Vane + every time, if he'll run, and I know other folks that will.” + </p> + <p> + After Mr. Jenney had left her, Victoria stood motionless, gazing off into + the haze, until she was startled by the voice of Hastings Weare beside + her. + </p> + <p> + “Say, Victoria, who is that man?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “What man?” + </p> + <p> + Hastings nodded towards Austen, who, with a cake basket in his hand, stood + chatting with a group of country people on the edge of the porch. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, that man!” said Victoria. “His name's Austen Vane, and he's a lawyer + in Ripton.” + </p> + <p> + “All I can say is,” replied Hastings, with a light in his face, “he's one + I'd like to tie to. I'll bet he could whip any four men you could pick + out.” + </p> + <p> + Considering that Hastings had himself proposed—although in a very + mild form—more than once to Victoria, this was generous. + </p> + <p> + “I daresay he could,” she agreed absently. + </p> + <p> + “It isn't only the way he's built,” persisted Hastings, “he looks as if he + were going to be somebody some day. Introduce me to him, will you?” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly,” said Victoria. “Mr. Vane,” she called, “I want to introduce + an admirer, Mr. Hastings Weare.” + </p> + <p> + “I just wanted to know you,” said Hastings, reddening, “and Victoria—I + mean Miss Flint—said she'd introduce me.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm much obliged to her,” said Austen, smiling. + </p> + <p> + “Are you in politics?” asked Hastings. + </p> + <p> + “I'm afraid not,” answered Austen, with a glance at Victoria. + </p> + <p> + “You're not helping Humphrey Crewe, are you?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Austen, and added with an illuminating smile, “Mr. Crewe + doesn't need any help.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm glad you're not,” exclaimed the downright Hastings, with palpable + relief in his voice that an idol had not been shattered. “I think + Humphrey's a fakir, and all this sort of thing tommyrot. He wouldn't get + my vote by giving me lemonade and cake and letting me look at his cows. If + you ever run for office, I'd like to cast it for you. My father is only a + summer resident, but since he has gone out of business he stays here till + Christmas, and I'll be twenty-one in a year.” + </p> + <p> + Austen had ceased to smile; he was looking into the boy's eyes with that + serious expression which men and women found irresistible. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, Mr. Weare,” he said simply. + </p> + <p> + Hastings was suddenly overcome with the shyness of youth. He held out his + hand, and said, “I'm awfully glad to have met you,” and fled. + </p> + <p> + Victoria, who had looked on with a curious mixture of feelings, turned to + Austen. + </p> + <p> + “That was a real tribute,” she said. “Is this the way you affect everybody + whom you meet?” + </p> + <p> + They were standing almost alone. The sun was nearing the western hills + beyond the river, and people had for some time been wending their way + towards the field where the horses were tied. He did not answer her + question, but asked one instead. + </p> + <p> + “Will you let me drive you home?” + </p> + <p> + “Do you think you deserve to, after the shameful manner in which you have + behaved?” + </p> + <p> + “I'm quite sure that I don't deserve to,” he answered, still looking down + at her. + </p> + <p> + “If you did deserve to, being a woman, I probably shouldn't let you,” said + Victoria, flashing a look upwards; “as it is, you may.” + </p> + <p> + His face lighted, but she halted in the grass, with her hands behind her, + and stared at him with a puzzled expression. + </p> + <p> + “I'm sure you're a dangerous man,” she declared. “First you take in poor + little Hastings, and now you're trying to take me in.” + </p> + <p> + “Then I wish I were still more dangerous,” he laughed, “for apparently I + haven't succeeded.” + </p> + <p> + “I want to talk to you seriously,” said Victoria; “that is the only reason + I'm permitting you to drive me home.” + </p> + <p> + “I am devoutly thankful for the reason then,” he said,—“my horse is + tied in the field.” + </p> + <p> + “And aren't you going to say good-by to your host and hostess?” + </p> + <p> + “Hostess?” he repeated, puzzled. + </p> + <p> + “Hostesses,” she corrected herself, “Mrs. Pomfret and Alice. I thought you + had eyes in your head,” she added, with a fleeting glance at them. + </p> + <p> + “Is Crewe engaged to Miss Pomfret?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “Are all men simpletons?” said Victoria. “He doesn't know it yet, but he + is.” + </p> + <p> + “I think I'd know it, if I were,” said Austen, with an emphasis that made + her laugh. + </p> + <p> + “Sometimes fish don't know they're in a net until—until the morning + after,” said Victoria. “That has a horribly dissipated sound—hasn't + it? I know to a moral certainty that Mr. Crewe will eventually lead Miss + Pomfret away from the altar. At present,” she could not refrain from + adding, “he thinks he's in love with some one else.” + </p> + <p> + “Who?” + </p> + <p> + “It doesn't matter,” she replied. “Humphrey's perfectly happy, because he + believes most women are in love with him, and he's making up his mind in + that magnificent, thorough way of his whether she is worthy to be endowed + with his heart and hand, his cows, and all his stocks and bonds. He + doesn't know he's going to marry Alice. It almost makes one a Calvinist, + doesn't it. He's predestined, but perfectly happy.” + </p> + <p> + “Who is he in love with?” demanded Austen, ungrammatically. + </p> + <p> + “I'm going to say good-by to him. I'll meet you in the field, if you don't + care to come. It's only manners, after all, although the lemonade's all + gone and I haven't had a drop.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll go along too,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “Aren't you afraid of Mrs. Pomfret?” + </p> + <p> + “Not a bit!” + </p> + <p> + “I am,” said Victoria, “but I think you'd better come just the same.” + </p> + <p> + Around the corner of the house they found them,—Mr. Crewe urging the + departing guests to remain, and not to be bashful in the future about + calling. + </p> + <p> + “We don't always have lemonade and cake,” he was saying, “but you can be + sure of a welcome, just the same. Good-by, Vane, glad you came. Did they + show you through the stables? Did you see the mate to the horse I lost? + Beauty, isn't he? Stir 'em up and get the money. I guess we won't see much + of each other politically. You're anti-railroad. I don't believe that + tack'll work—we can't get along without corporations, you know. You + ought to talk to Flint. I'll give you a letter of introduction to him. I + don't know what I'd have done without that man Tooting in your father's + office. He's a wasted genius in Ripton. What? Good-by, you'll find your + wagon, I guess. Well, Victoria, where have you been keeping yourself? I've + been so busy I haven't had time to look for you. You're going to stay to + dinner, and Hastings, and all the people who have helped.” + </p> + <p> + “No, I'm not,” answered Victoria, with a glance at Austen, before whom + this announcement was so delicately made, “I'm going home.” + </p> + <p> + “But when am I to see you?” cried Mr. Crewe, as near genuine alarm as he + ever got. “You never let me see you. I was going to drive you home in the + motor by moonlight.” + </p> + <p> + “We all know that you're the most original person, Victoria,” said Mrs. + Pomfret, “full of whims and strange fancies,” she added, with the only + brief look at Austen she had deigned to bestow on him. “It never pays to + count on you for twenty-four hours. I suppose you're off on another wild + expedition.” + </p> + <p> + “I think I've earned the right to it,” said Victoria;—“I've poured + lemonade for Humphrey's constituents the whole afternoon. And besides, I + never said I'd stay for dinner. I'm going home. Father's leaving for + California in the morning.” + </p> + <p> + “He'd better stay at home and look after her,” Mrs. Pomfret remarked, when + Victoria was out of hearing. + </p> + <p> + “Since Mrs. Harry Haynes ran off, one can never tell what a woman will do. + It wouldn't surprise me a bit if Victoria eloped with a handsome nobody + like that. Of course he's after her money, but he wouldn't get it, not if + I know Augustus Flint.” + </p> + <p> + “Is he handsome?” said Mr. Crewe, as though the idea were a new one. + “Great Scott, I don't believe she gives him a thought. She's only going as + far as the field with him. She insisted on leaving her horse there instead + of putting him in the stable.” + </p> + <p> + “Catch Alice going as far as the field with him,” said Mrs. Pomfret, “but + I've done my duty. It's none of my affair.” + </p> + <p> + In the meantime Austen and Victoria had walked on some distance in + silence. + </p> + <p> + “I have an idea with whom Mr. Crewe is in love,” he said at length. + </p> + <p> + “So have I,” replied Victoria, promptly. “Humphrey's in love with himself. + All he desires in a wife—if he desires one—is an inanimate and + accommodating looking-glass, in whom he may see what he conceives to be + his own image daily. James, you may take the mare home. I'm going to drive + with Mr. Vane.” + </p> + <p> + She stroked Pepper's nose while Austen undid the hitch-rope from around + his neck. + </p> + <p> + “You and I are getting to be friends, aren't we, Pepper?” she asked, as + the horse, with quivering nostrils, thrust his head into her hand. Then + she sprang lightly into the buggy by Austen's side. The manner of these + acts and the generous courage with which she defied opinion appealed to + him so strongly that his heart was beating faster than Pepper's hoof-beats + on the turf of the pasture. + </p> + <p> + “You are very good to come with me,” he said gravely, when they had + reached the road; “perhaps I ought not to have asked you.” + </p> + <p> + “Why?” she asked, with one of her direct looks. + </p> + <p> + “It was undoubtedly selfish,” he said, and added, more lightly, “I don't + wish to put you into Mrs. Pomfret's bad graces.” + </p> + <p> + Victoria laughed. + </p> + <p> + “She thought it her duty to tell father the time you drove me to the + Hammonds'. She said I asked you to do it.” + </p> + <p> + “What did he say?” Austen inquired, looking straight ahead of him. + </p> + <p> + “He didn't say much,” she answered. “Father never does. I think he knows + that I am to be trusted.” + </p> + <p> + “Even with me?” he asked quizzically, but with a deeper significance. + </p> + <p> + “I don't think he realizes how dangerous you are,” she replied, avoiding + the issue. “The last time I saw you, you were actually trying to throw a + fat man out of your window. What a violent life you lead, Mr. Vane. I hope + you haven't shot any more people—” + </p> + <p> + “I saw you,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “Is that the way you spend your time in office hours,—throwing + people out of the windows?” + </p> + <p> + “It was only Tom Gaylord.” + </p> + <p> + “He's the man Mr. Jenney said wanted you to be a senator, isn't he?” she + asked. + </p> + <p> + “You have a good memory,” he answered her. “Yes. That's the reason I tried + to throw him out of the window.” + </p> + <p> + “Why didn't you be a senator?” she asked abruptly. “I always think of you + in public life. Why waste your opportunities?” + </p> + <p> + “I'm not at all sure that was an opportunity. It was only some of Tom's + nonsense. I should have had all the politicians in the district against + me.” + </p> + <p> + “But you aren't the kind of man who would care about the politicians, + surely. If Humphrey Crewe can get elected by the people, I should think + you might.” + </p> + <p> + “I can't afford to give garden-parties and buy lemonade,” said Austen, and + they both laughed. He did not think it worth while mentioning Mr. Braden. + </p> + <p> + “Sometimes I think you haven't a particle of ambition,” she said. “I like + men with ambition.” + </p> + <p> + “I shall try to cultivate it,” said Austen. + </p> + <p> + “You seem to be popular enough.” + </p> + <p> + “Most worthless people are popular, because they don't tread on anybody's + toes.” + </p> + <p> + “Worthless people don't take up poor people's suits, and win them,” she + said. “I saw Zeb Meader the other day, and he said you could be President + of the United States.” + </p> + <p> + “Zeb meant that I was eligible—having been born in this country,” + said Austen. “But where did you see him?” + </p> + <p> + “I—I went to see him.” + </p> + <p> + “All the way to Mercer?” + </p> + <p> + “It isn't so far in an automobile,” she replied, as though in excuse, and + added, still more lamely, “Zeb and I became great friends, you know, in + the hospital.” + </p> + <p> + He did not answer, but wondered the more at the simplicity and kindness in + one brought up as she had been which prompted her to take the trouble to + see the humblest of her friends: nay, to take the trouble to have humble + friends. + </p> + <p> + The road wound along a ridge, and at intervals was spread before them the + full glory of the September sunset,—the mountains of the west in + blue-black silhouette against the saffron sky, the myriad dappled clouds, + the crimson fading from the still reaches of the river, and the + wine-colour from the eastern hills. Both were silent under the spell, but + a yearning arose within him when he glanced at the sunset glow on her + face: would sunsets hereafter bring sadness? + </p> + <p> + His thoughts ran riot as the light faded in the west. Hers were not + revealed. And the silence between them seemed gradually to grow into a + pact, to become a subtler and more intimate element than speech. A faint + tang of autumn smoke was in the air, a white mist crept along the running + waters, a silver moon like a new-stamped coin rode triumphant in the sky, + impatient to proclaim her glory; and the shadows under the ghost-like + sentinel trees in the pastures grew blacker. At last Victoria looked at + him. + </p> + <p> + “You are the only man I know who doesn't insist on talking,” she said. + “There are times when—” + </p> + <p> + “When there is nothing to say,” he suggested. + </p> + <p> + She laughed softly. He tried to remember the sound of it afterwards, when + he rehearsed this phase of the conversation, but couldn't. + </p> + <p> + “It's because you like the hills, isn't it?” she asked. “You seem such an + out-of-door person, and Mr. Jenney said you were always wandering about + the country-side.” + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Jenney also made other reflections about my youth,” said Austen. + </p> + <p> + She laughed again, acquiescing in his humour, secretly thankful not to + find him sentimental. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Jenney said something else that—that I wanted to ask you + about,” she went on, breathing more deeply. “It was about the railroad.” + </p> + <p> + “I am afraid you have not come to an authority,” he replied. + </p> + <p> + “You said the politicians would be against you if you tried to become a + State senator. Do you believe that the politicians are owned by the + railroad?” + </p> + <p> + “Has Jenney been putting such things into your head?” + </p> + <p> + “Not only Mr. Jenney, but—I have heard other people say that. And + Humphrey Crewe said that you hadn't a chance politically, because you had + opposed the railroad and had gone against your own interests.” + </p> + <p> + Austen was amazed at this new exhibition of courage on her part, though he + was sorely pressed. + </p> + <p> + “Humphrey Crewe isn't much of an authority, either,” he said briefly. + </p> + <p> + “Then you won't tell me?” said Victoria. “Oh, Mr. Vane,” she cried, with + sudden vehemence, “if such things are going on here, I'm sure my father + doesn't know about them. This is only one State, and the railroad runs + through so many. He can't know everything, and I have heard him say that + he wasn't responsible for what the politicians did in his name. If they + are bad, why don't you go to him and tell him so? I'm sure he'd listen to + you.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm sure he'd think me a presumptuous idiot,” said Austen. “Politicians + are not idealists anywhere—the very word has become a term of + reproach. Undoubtedly your father desires to set things right as much as + any one else—probably more than any one.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I know he does,” exclaimed Victoria. + </p> + <p> + “If politics are not all that they should be,” he went on, somewhat + grimly, with an unpleasant feeling of hypocrisy, “we must remember that + they are nobody's fault in particular, and can't be set right in an + instant by any one man, no matter how powerful.” + </p> + <p> + She turned her face to him gratefully, but he did not meet her look. They + were on the driveway of Fairview. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose you think me very silly for asking such questions,” she said. + </p> + <p> + “No,” he answered gravely, “but politics are so intricate a subject that + they are often not understood by those who are in the midst of them. I + admire—I think it is very fine in you to want to know.” + </p> + <p> + “You are not one of the men who would not wish a woman to know, are you?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” he said, “no, I'm not.” + </p> + <p> + The note of pain in his voice surprised and troubled her. They were almost + in sight of the house. + </p> + <p> + “I asked you to come to Fairview,” she said, assuming a lightness of tone, + “and you never appeared. I thought it was horrid of you to forget, after + we'd been such friends.” + </p> + <p> + “I didn't forget,” replied Austen. + </p> + <p> + “Then you didn't want to come.” + </p> + <p> + He looked into her eyes, and she dropped them. + </p> + <p> + “You will have to be the best judge of that,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “But what am I to think?” she persisted. + </p> + <p> + “Think the best of me you can,” he answered, as they drew up on the gravel + before the open door of Fairview house. A man was standing in the + moonlight on the porch. + </p> + <p> + “Is that you, Victoria?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, father.” + </p> + <p> + “I was getting worried,” said Mr. Flint, coming down on the driveway. + </p> + <p> + “I'm all right,” she said, leaping out of the buggy, “Mr. Vane brought me + home.” + </p> + <p> + “How are you, Hilary?” said Mr. Flint. + </p> + <p> + “I'm Austen Vane, Mr. Flint,” said Austen. + </p> + <p> + “How are you?” said Mr. Flint, as curtly as the barest politeness allowed. + “What was the matter with your own horse, Victoria?” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing,” she replied, after an instant's pause. Austen wondered many + times whether her lips had trembled. “Mr. Vane asked me to drive with him, + and I came. Won't—won't you come in, Mr. Vane?” + </p> + <p> + “No, thanks,” said Austen, “I'm afraid I have to go back to Ripton.” + </p> + <p> + “Good-by, and thank you,” she said, and gave him her hand. As he pressed + it, he thought he felt the slightest pressure in return, and then she fled + up the steps. As he drove away, he turned once to look at the great house, + with its shades closely drawn, as it stood amidst its setting of shrubbery + silent under the moon. + </p> + <p> + An hour later he sat in Hanover Street before the supper Euphrasia had + saved for him. But though he tried nobly, his heart was not in the + relation, for her benefit, of Mr. Crewe's garden-party. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0009" id="link2HCH0009"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IX. Mr. CREWE ASSAULTS THE CAPITAL + </h2> + <p> + Those portions of the biographies of great men which deal with the small + beginnings of careers are always eagerly devoured, and for this reason the + humble entry of Mr. Crewe into politics may be of interest. Great + revolutions have had their origins in back cellars; great builders of + railroads have begun life with packs on their shoulders, trudging over the + wilderness which they were to traverse in after years in private cars. The + history of Napoleon Bonaparte has not a Sunday-school moral, but we can + trace therein the results of industry after the future emperor got + started. Industry, and the motto “nil desperandum” lived up to, and the + watchword “thorough,” and a torch of unsuspected genius, and “l'audace, + toujours l'audace,” and a man may go far in life. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Humphrey Crewe possessed, as may have been surmised, a dash of all + these gifts. For a summary of his character one would not have used the + phrase (as a contemporary of his remarked) of “a shrinking violet.” The + phrase, after all, would have fitted very few great men; genius is sure of + itself, and seeks its peers. + </p> + <p> + The State capital is an old and beautiful and somewhat conservative town. + Life there has its joys and sorrows and passions, its ambitions, and + heart-burnings, to be sure; a most absorbing novel could be written about + it, and the author need not go beyond the city limits or approach the + state-house or the Pelican Hotel. The casual visitor in that capital + leaves it with a sense of peace, the echo of church bells in his ear, and + (if in winter) the impression of dazzling snow. Comedies do not + necessarily require a wide stage, nor tragedies an amphitheatre for their + enactment. + </p> + <p> + No casual visitor, for instance, would have suspected from the faces or + remarks of the inhabitants whom he chanced to meet that there was + excitement in the capital over the prospective arrival of Mr. Humphrey + Crewe for the legislative session that winter. Legislative sessions, be it + known, no longer took place in the summer, a great relief to Mr. Crewe and + to farmers in general, who wished to be at home in haying time. + </p> + <p> + The capital abounded in comfortable homes and boasted not a dwellings of + larger pretensions. Chief among these was the Duncan house—still so + called, although Mr. Duncan, who built it, had been dead these fifteen + years, and his daughter and heiress, Janet, had married an Italian Marquis + and lived in a Roman palace, rehabilitated by the Duncan money. Mr. + Duncan, it may be recalled by some readers of “Coniston,” had been a + notable man in his day, who had married the heiress of the State, and was + president of the Central Railroad, now absorbed in the United + Northeastern. The house was a great square of brick, with a wide cornice, + surrounded by a shaded lawn; solidly built, in the fashion of the days + when rich people stayed at home, with a conservatory and a library that + had once been Mr. Duncan's pride. The Marchesa cared very little about the + library, or about the house, for that matter; a great aunt and uncle, + spinster and bachelor, were living in it that winter, and they vacated for + Mr. Crewe. He travelled to the capital on the legislative pass the + Northeastern Railroads had so kindly given him, and brought down his + horses and his secretary and servants from Leith a few days before the + first of January, when the session was to open, and laid out his bills for + the betterment of the State on that library table where Mr. Duncan had + lovingly thumbed his folios. Mr. Crewe, with characteristic promptitude, + set his secretary to work to make a list of the persons of influence in + the town, preparatory to a series of dinner-parties; he dropped into the + office of Mr. Ridout, the counsel of the Northeastern and of the Winona + Corporation in the capital, to pay his respects as a man of affairs, and + incidentally to leave copies of his bills for the improvement of the + State. Mr. Ridout was politely interested, and promised to read the bills, + and agreed that they ought to pass. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Crewe also examined the Pelican Hotel, so soon to be a hive, and stood + between the snow-banks in the capital park contemplating the statue of the + great statesman there, and repeating to himself the quotation inscribed + beneath. “The People's Government, made for the People, made by the + People, and answerable to the People.” And he wondered, idly,—for + the day was not cold,—how he would look upon a pedestal with the + Gladstone collar and the rough woollen coat that would lend themselves so + readily to reproduction in marble. Stranger things had happened, and + grateful States had been known to reward benefactors. + </p> + <p> + At length comes the gala night of nights,—the last of the old year,—and + the assembling of the five hundred legislators and of the army that is + wont to attend them. The afternoon trains, steaming hot, are crowded to + the doors, the station a scene of animation, and Main Street, dazzling in + snow, is alive with a stream of men, with eddies here and there at the + curbs and in the entries. What handshaking, and looking over of new faces, + and walking round and round! What sightseeing by the country members and + their wives who have come to attend the inauguration of the new governor, + the Honourable Asa P. Gray! There he is, with the whiskers and the tall + hat and the comfortable face, which wears already a look of gubernatorial + dignity and power. He stands for a moment in the lobby of the Pelican + Hotel,—thronged now to suffocation,—to shake hands genially + with new friends, who are led up by old friends with two fingers on the + elbow. The old friends crack jokes and whisper in the ear of the + governor-to-be, who presently goes upstairs, accompanied by the Honourable + Hilary Vane, to the bridal suite, which is reserved for him, and which has + fire-proof carpet on the floor. The Honourable Hilary has a room next + door, connecting with the new governor's by folding doors, but this fact + is not generally known to country members. Only old timers, like Bijah + Bixby and Job Braden, know that the Honourable Hilary's room corresponds + to one which in the old Pelican was called the Throne Room, Number Seven, + where Jethro Bass sat in the old days and watched unceasingly the groups + in the street from the window. + </p> + <p> + But Jethro Bass has been dead these twenty years, and his lieutenants + shorn of power. An empire has arisen out of the ashes of the ancient + kingdoms. Bijah and Job are old, all-powerful still in Clovelly and Leith—influential + still in their own estimations; still kicking up their heels behind, still + stuttering and whispering into ears, still “going along by when they are + talking sly.” But there are no guerrillas now, no condottieri who can be + hired: the empire has a paid and standing army, as an empire should. The + North Country chiefs, so powerful in the clan warfare of bygone days, are + generals now,—chiefs of staff. The captain-general, with a minute + piece of Honey Dew under his tongue, sits in Number Seven. A new Number + Seven,—with electric lights and a bathroom and a brass bed. Tempora + mutantur. There is an empire and a feudal system, did one but know it. The + clans are part of the empire, and each chief is responsible for his clan—did + one but know it. One doesn't know it. + </p> + <p> + The Honourable Brush Bascom, Duke of Putnam, member of the House, has + arrived unostentatiously—as is his custom—and is seated in his + own headquarters, number ten (with a bathroom). Number nine belongs from + year to year to Mr. Manning, division superintendent of that part of the + Northeastern which was the old Central,—a thin gentleman with + side-whiskers. He loves life in the capital so much that he takes his + vacations there in the winter,—during the sessions of the + Legislature,—presumably because it is gay. There are other rooms, + higher up, of important men, to be sure, but to enter which it is not so + much of an honour. The Honourable Bill Fleming, postmaster of Brampton in + Truro (Ephraim Prescott being long since dead and Brampton a large place + now), has his vacation during the session in room thirty-six (no + bathroom); and the Honourable Elisha Jane, Earl of Haines County in the + North Country, and United States consul somewhere, is home on his annual + vacation in room fifty-nine (no bath). Senator Whitredge has a room, and + Senator Green, and Congressmen Eldridge and Fairplay (no baths, and only + temporary). + </p> + <p> + The five hundred who during the next three months are to register the laws + find quarters as best they can. Not all of them are as luxurious as Mr. + Crewe in the Duncan house, or the Honourable Brush Bascom in number ten of + the Pelican, the rent of either of which would swallow the legislative + salary in no time. The Honourable Nat Billings, senator from the Putnam + County district, is comfortably installed, to be sure. By gradual and + unexplained degrees, the constitution of the State has been changed until + there are only twenty senators. Noble five hundred! Steadfast twenty! + </p> + <p> + A careful perusal of the biographies of great men of the dynamic type + leads one to the conclusion that much of their success is due to an + assiduous improvement of every opportunity,—and Mr. Humphrey Crewe + certainly possessed this quality, also. He is in the Pelican Hotel this + evening, meeting the men that count. Mr. Job Braden, who had come down + with the idea that he might be of use in introducing the new member from + Leith to the notables, was met by this remark:—“You can't introduce + me to any of 'em—they all know who I am. Just point any of 'em out + you think I ought to know, and I'll go up and talk to 'em. What? Come up + to my house after a while and smoke a cigar. The Duncan house, you know—the + big one with the conservatory.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Crewe was right—they all knew him. The Leith millionaire, the + summer resident, was a new factor in politics, and the rumours of the size + of his fortune had reached a high-water mark in the Pelican Hotel that + evening. Pushing through the crowd in the corridor outside the bridal + suite waiting to shake hands with the new governor, Mr. Crewe gained an + entrance in no time, and did not hesitate to interrupt the somewhat + protracted felicitations of an Irish member of the Newcastle delegation. + </p> + <p> + “How are you, Governor?” he said, with the bonhomie of a man of the world. + “I'm Humphrey Crewe, from Leith. You got a letter from me, didn't you, + congratulating you upon your election? We didn't do badly for you up + there. What?” + </p> + <p> + “How do you do, Mr. Crewe?” said Mr. Gray, with dignified hospitality, + while their fingers slid over each other's; “I'm glad to welcome you here. + I've noticed the interest you've taken in the State, and the number of + ahem—very useful societies to which you belong.” + </p> + <p> + “Good,” said Mr. Crewe, “I do what I can. I just dropped in to shake your + hand, and to say that I hope we'll pull together.” + </p> + <p> + The governor lifted his eyebrows a little. + </p> + <p> + “Why, I hope so, I'm sere, Mr. Crewe,” said he. + </p> + <p> + “I've looked over the policy of the State for the last twenty years in + regard to public improvements and the introduction of modern methods as + concerns husbandry, and I find it deplorable. You and I, Governor, live in + a progressive age, and we can't afford not to see something done. What? It + is my desire to do what I can to help make your administration a notable + advance upon those of your predecessors.” + </p> + <p> + “Why—I greatly appreciate it, Mr. Crewe,” said Mr. Gray. + </p> + <p> + “I'm sure you do. I've looked over your record, and I find you've had + experience in State affairs, and that you are a successful and + conservative business man. That is the type we want—eh? Business + men. You've read over the bills I sent you by registered mail?” + </p> + <p> + “Ahem,” said Mr. Gray, “I've been a good deal occupied since election day, + Mr. Crewe.” + </p> + <p> + “Read 'em,” said Mr. Crewe, “and I'll call in on you at the state-house + day after to-morrow at five o'clock promptly. We'll discuss 'em, Governor, + and if, by the light of your legislative experience, you have any + suggestions to make, I shall be glad to hear 'em. Before putting the bills + in their final shape I've taken the trouble to go over them with my + friend, Mr. Flint—our mutual friend, let us say.” + </p> + <p> + “I've had the pleasure of meeting Mr. Flint,” said Mr. Gray. “I—ahem—can't + say that I know him intimately.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Crewe looked at Mr. Gray in a manner which plainly indicated that he + was not an infant. + </p> + <p> + “My relations with Mr. Flint and the Northeastern have been very + pleasant,” said Mr. Crewe. “I may say that I am somewhat of a practical + railroad and business man myself.” + </p> + <p> + “We need such men,” said Mr. Gray. “Why, how do you do, Cary? How are the + boys up in Wheeler?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, good-by, Governor. See you day after to-morrow at five precisely,” + said Mr. Crewe. + </p> + <p> + The next official call of Mr. Crewe was on the Speaker-to-be, Mr. Doby of + Hale (for such matters are cut and dried), but any amount of pounding on + Mr. Doby's door (number seventy-five) brought no response. Other rural + members besides Mr. Crewe came and pounded on that door, and went away + again; but Mr. Job Braden suddenly appeared from another part of the + corridor, smiling benignly, and apparently not resenting the refusal of + his previous offers of help. + </p> + <p> + “W—want the Speaker?” he inquired. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Crewe acknowledged that he did. + </p> + <p> + “Ed only sleeps there,” said Mr. Braden. “Guess you'll find him in the + Railroad-Room.” + </p> + <p> + “Railroad Room?” + </p> + <p> + “Hilary Vane's, Number Seven.” Mr. Braden took hold of the lapel of his + fellow-townsman's coat. “Callated you didn't know it all,” he said; + “that's the reason I come down—so's to help you some.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Crewe, although he was not wont to take a second place, followed Mr. + Braden down the stairs to the door next to the governor's, where he pushed + ahead of his guide, through the group about the doorway,—none of + whom, however, were attempting to enter. They stared in some surprise at + Mr. Crewe as he flung open the door without knocking, and slammed it + behind him in Mr. Braden's face. But the bewilderment caused by this act + of those without was as nothing to the astonishment of those within—had + Mr. Crewe but known it. An oil painting of the prominent men gathered + about the marble-topped table in the centre of the room, with an outline + key beneath it, would have been an appropriate work of art to hang in the + state-house, as emblematic of the statesmanship of the past twenty years. + The Honourable Hilary Vane sat at one end in a padded chair; Mr. Manning, + the division superintendent, startled out of a meditation, was upright on + the end of the bed; Mr. Ridout, the Northeastern's capital lawyer, was + figuring at the other end of the table; the Honourable Brush Bascom was + bending over a wide, sad-faced gentleman of some two hundred and fifty + pounds who sat at the centre in his shirt-sleeves, poring over numerous + sheets in front of him which were covered with names of the five hundred. + This gentleman was the Honourable Edward Doby of Hale, who, with the kind + assistance of the other gentlemen above-named, was in this secluded spot + making up a list of his committees, undisturbed by eager country members. + At Mr. Crewe's entrance Mr. Bascom, with great presence of mind, laid down + his hat over the principal list, while Mr. Ridout, taking the hint, put + the Revised Statutes on the other. There was a short silence; and the + Speaker-to-be, whose pencil had been knocked out of his hand; recovered + himself sufficiently to relight an extremely frayed cigar. + </p> + <p> + Not that Mr. Crewe was in the least abashed. He chose this opportunity to + make a survey of the situation, nodded to Mr. Ridout, and walked up to the + padded armchair. + </p> + <p> + “How are you, Mr. Vane?” he said. “I thought I'd drop in to shake hands + with you, especially as I have business with the Speaker, and heard he was + here. But I'm glad to have met you for many reasons. I want you to be one + of the vice-presidents of the State Economic League—it won't cost + you anything. Ridout has agreed to let his name go on.” + </p> + <p> + The Honourable Hilary, not being an emotional man, merely grunted as he + started to rise to his feet. What he was about to say was interrupted by a + timid knock, and there followed another brief period of silence. + </p> + <p> + “It ain't anybody,” said Mr. Bascom, and crossing the room, turned the key + in the lock. The timid knock was repeated. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose you're constantly interrupted here by unimportant people,” Mr. + Crewe remarked. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said Mr. Vane, slowly, boring into Mr. Crewe with his eye, “that + statement isn't far out of the way.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't believe you've ever met me, Mr. Vane. I'm Humphrey Crewe. We have + a good friend in common in Mr. Flint.” + </p> + <p> + The Honourable Hilary's hand passed over Mr. Crewe's lightly. + </p> + <p> + “Glad to meet you, Mr. Crewe,” he said, and a faint twinkle appeared in + his eye. “Job has told everybody you were coming down. Glad to welcome a + man of your ahem—stamp into politics.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm a plain business man,” answered Mr. Crewe, modestly; “and although I + have considerable occupation, I believe that one in my position has duties + to perform. I've certain bills—” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes,” agreed the Honourable Hilary; “do you know Mr. Brush Bascom + and Mr. Manning? Allow me to introduce you,—and General Doby.” + </p> + <p> + “How are you, General?” said Mr. Crewe to the Speaker-to-be, “I'm always + glad to shake the hand of a veteran. Indeed, I have thought that a society—” + </p> + <p> + “I earned my title,” said General Doby, somewhat sheepishly, “fighting on + Governor Brown's staff. There were twenty of us, and we were resistless, + weren't we, Brush?” + </p> + <p> + “Twenty on a staff!” exclaimed Mr. Crewe. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, we furnished our own uniforms and paid our own way—except those + of us who had passes,” declared the General, as though the memory of his + military career did not give him unalloyed pleasure. “What's the use of + State sovereignty if you can't have a glittering army to follow the + governor round?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Crewe had never considered this question, and he was not the man to + waste time in speculation. + </p> + <p> + “Doubtless you got a letter from me, General Doby,” he said. “We did what + we could up our way to put you in the Speaker's chair.” + </p> + <p> + General Doby creased a little in the middle, to signify that he was + bowing. + </p> + <p> + “I trust it will be in my power to reciprocate, Mr. Crewe,” he replied. + </p> + <p> + “We want to treat Mr. Crewe right,” Mr. Bascom put in. + </p> + <p> + “You have probably made a note of my requests,” Mr. Crewe continued. “I + should like to be on the Judiciary Committee, for one thing. Although I am + not a lawyer, I know something of the principles of law, and I understand + that this and the Appropriations Committee are the most important. I may + say with truth that I should be a useful member of that, as I am + accustomed to sitting on financial boards. As my bills are of some + considerable importance and deal with practical progressive measures, I + have no hesitation in asking for the chairmanship of Public Improvements,—and + of course a membership in the Agricultural is essential, as I have bills + for them. Gentlemen,” he added to the room at large, “I have typewritten + manifolds of those bills which I shall be happy to leave here—at + headquarters.” And suiting the action to the word, he put down a packet on + the table. + </p> + <p> + The Honourable Brush Bascom, accompanied by Mr. Ridout, walked to the + window and stood staring at the glitter of the electric light on the snow. + The Honourable Hilary gazed steadily at the table, while General Doby blew + his nose with painful violence. + </p> + <p> + “I'll do what I can for you, certainly, Mr. Crewe,” he said. “But—what + is to become of the other four hundred and ninety-nine? The ways of a + Speaker are hard, Mr. Crewe, and I have to do justice to all.” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” answered Mr. Crewe, “of course I don't want to be unreasonable, + and I realize the pressure that's put upon you. But when you consider the + importance of the work I came down here to do—” + </p> + <p> + “I do consider it,” said the Speaker, politely. “It's a little early to + talk about the make-up of committees. I hope to be able to get at them by + Sunday. You may be sure I'll do my best for you.” + </p> + <p> + “We'd better make a note of it,” said Mr. Crewe; “give me some paper,” and + he was reaching around behind General Doby for one of the precious sheets + under Mr. Bascom's hat, when the general, with great presence of mind, sat + on it. We have it, from a malicious and untrustworthy source, that the + Northeastern Railroads paid for a new one. + </p> + <p> + “Here, here,” cried the Speaker, “make the memorandum here.” + </p> + <p> + At this critical juncture a fortunate diversion occurred. A rap—three + times—of no uncertain quality was heard at the door, and Mr. Brush + Bascom hastened to open it. A voice cried out:—“Is Manning here? The + boys are hollering for those passes,” and a wiry, sallow gentleman burst + in, none other than the Honourable Elisha Jane, who was taking his + consular vacation. When his eyes fell upon Mr. Crewe he halted abruptly, + looked a little foolish, and gave a questioning glance at the Honourable + Hilary. + </p> + <p> + “Mountain passes, Lish? Sit down. Did I ever tell you that story about the + slide in Rickets Gulch?” asked the Honourable Brush Bascom. “But first let + me make you acquainted with Mr. Humphrey Crewe of Leith. Mr. Crewe has + come down here with the finest lot of bills you ever saw, and we're all + going to take hold and put 'em through. Here, Lish, I'll give you a set.” + </p> + <p> + “Read 'em, Mr. Jane,” urged Mr. Crewe. “I don't claim much for 'em, but + perhaps they will help to set a few little matters right—I hope so.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Jane opened the bills with deliberation, and cast his eyes over the + headings. + </p> + <p> + “I'll read 'em this very night, Mr. Crewe,” he said solemnly; “this + meeting you is a particular pleasure, and I have heard in many quarters of + these measures.” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” admitted Mr. Crewe, “they may help some. I have a few other + matters to attend to this evening, so I must say good-night, gentlemen. + Don't let me interfere with those I mountain passes, Mr. Manning.” + </p> + <p> + With this parting remark, which proved him to be not merely an idealist in + politics, but a practical man, Mr. Crewe took his leave. And he was too + much occupied with his own thoughts to pay any attention to the click of + the key as it turned in the lock, or to hear United States Senator + Whitredge rap (three times) on the door after he had turned the corner, or + to know that presently the sliding doors into the governor's bridal suite—were + to open a trifle, large enough for the admission of the body of the + Honourable Asa P. Gray. + </p> + <p> + Number Seven still keeps up its reputation as the seat of benevolence, and + great public benefactors still meet there to discuss the welfare of their + fellow-men: the hallowed council chamber now of an empire, seat of the + Governor-general of the State, the Honourable Hilary Vane, and his + advisers. For years a benighted people, with a fond belief in their + participation of Republican institutions, had elected the noble five + hundred of the House and the stanch twenty of the Senate. Noble five + hundreds (biggest Legislature in the world) have come and gone; debated, + applauded, fought and on occasions denounced, kicked over the traces, and + even wept—to no avail. Behold that political institution of man, + representative government There it is on the stage, curtain up, a sublime + spectacle for all men to see, and thrill over speeches about the Rights of + Man, and the Forefathers in the Revolution; about Constituents who do not + constitute. The High Heavens allow it and smile, and it is well for the + atoms that they think themselves free American representatives, that they + do not feel the string of predestination around their ankles. The + senatorial twenty, from their high carved seats, see the strings and + smile, too; yes, and see their own strings, and smile. Wisdom does not + wish for flight. “The people” having changed the constitution, the + blackbirds are reduced from four and forty to a score. This is cheaper—for + the people. + </p> + <p> + Democracy on the front of the stage before an applauding audience; + performers absorbed in their parts, forgetting that the landlord has to be + paid in money yet to be earned. Behind the stage, the real play, the + absorbing interest, the high stakes—occasional discreet laughter + through the peep-hole when an actor makes an impassioned appeal to the + gods. Democracy in front, the Feudal System, the Dukes and Earls behind—but + in plain clothes; Democracy in stars and spangles and trappings and + insignia. Or, a better figure, the Fates weaving the web in that mystic + chamber, Number Seven, pausing now and again to smile as a new thread is + put in. Proclamations, constitutions, and creeds crumble before + conditions; the Law of Dividends is the high law, and the Forum an open + vent through which the white steam may rise heavenward and be resolved + again into water. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Crewe took his seat in the popular assemblage next day, although most + of the five hundred gave up theirs to the ladies who had come to hear his + Excellency deliver his inaugural. The Honourable Asa made a splendid + figure, all agreed, and read his speech in a firm and manly voice. A large + part of it was about the people; some of it about the sacred government + they had inherited from their forefathers; still another concerned the + high character and achievements of the inhabitants within the State lines; + the name of Abraham Lincoln was mentioned, and, with even greater + reverence and fervour, the Republican party which had ennobled and + enriched the people—and incidentally elected the governor. There was + a noble financial policy, a curtailment of expense. The forests should be + protected, roads should be built, and, above all, corporations should be + held to a strict accounting. + </p> + <p> + Needless to say, the speech gave great satisfaction to all, and many old + friends left the hall exclaiming that they didn't believe Asa had it in + him. As a matter of fact (known only to the initiated), Asa didn't have it + in him until last night, before he squeezed through the crack in the + folding doors from room number six to room Number Seven. The inspiration + came to him then, when he was ennobled by the Governor-general, who + represents the Empire. Perpetual Governor-general, who quickens into life + puppet governors of his own choosing Asa has agreed, for the honour of the + title of governor of his State, to act the part, open the fairs, lend his + magnificent voice to those phrases which it rounds so well. It is + fortunate, when we smoke a fine cigar from Havana, that we cannot look + into the factory. The sight would disturb us. It was well for the + applauding, deep-breathing audience in the state-house that first of + January that they did not have a glimpse in room Number Seven the night + before, under the sheets that contained the list of the Speaker's + committees; it was well that they could not go back to Ripton into the + offices on the square, earlier in December, where Mr. Hamilton Tooting was + writing the noble part of that inaugural from memoranda given him by the + Honourable Hilary Vane. Yes, the versatile Mr. Tooting, and none other, + doomed forever to hide the light of his genius under a bushel! The + financial part was written by the Governor-general himself—the + Honourable Hilary Vane. And when it was all finished and revised, it was + put into a long envelope which bore this printed address: Augustus P. + Flint, Pres't United Northeastern Railroads, New York. And came back with + certain annotations on the margin, which were duly incorporated into it. + This is the private history (which must never be told) of the document + which on January first became, as far as fame and posterity is concerned, + the Honourable Asa P. Gray's—forever and forever. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Crewe liked the inaugural, and was one of the first to tell Mr. Gray + so, and to express his pleasure and appreciation of the fact that his + request (mailed in November) had been complied with, that the substance of + his bills had been recommended in the governor's programme. + </p> + <p> + He did not pause to reflect on the maxim, that platforms are made to get + in by and inaugurals to get started by. + </p> + <p> + Although annual efforts have been made by various public-spirited citizens + to build a new state-house, economy—with assistance from room Number + Seven has triumphed. It is the same state-house from the gallery of which + poor William Wetherell witnessed the drama of the Woodchuck Session, + although there are more members now, for the population of the State has + increased to five hundred thousand. It is well for General Doby, with his + two hundred and fifty pounds, that he is in the Speaker's chair; five + hundred seats are a good many for that hall, and painful in a long + session. The Honourable Brush Bascom can stretch his legs, because he is + fortunate enough to have a front seat. Upon inquiry, it turns out that Mr. + Bascom has had a front seat for the last twenty years—he has been + uniformly lucky in drawing. The Honourable Jacob Botcher (ten years' + service) is equally fortunate; the Honourable Jake is a man of large + presence, and a voice that sounds as if it came, oracularly, from the + caverns of the earth. He is easily heard by the members on the back seats, + while Mr. Bascom is not. Mr. Ridout, the capital lawyer, is in the House + this year, and singularly enough has a front seat likewise. It was Mr. + Crewe's misfortune to draw number 415, in the extreme corner of the room, + and next the steam radiator. But he was not of the metal to accept tamely + such a ticketing from the hat of destiny (via the Clerk of the House). He + complained, as any man of spirit would, and Mr. Utter, the polite clerk, + is profoundly sorry,—and says it maybe managed. Curiously enough, + the Honourable Brush Bascom and the Honourable Jacob Botcher join Mr. + Crewe in his complaint, and reiterate that it is an outrage that a man of + such ability and deserving prominence should be among the submerged four + hundred and seventy. It is managed in a mysterious manner we don't pretend + to fathom, and behold Mr. Crewe in the front of the Forum, in the seats of + the mighty, where he can easily be pointed out from the gallery at the + head of the five hundred, between those shining leaders and + parliamentarians, the Honourables Brush Bascom and Jake Botcher. + </p> + <p> + For Mr. Crewe has not come to the Legislature, like the country members in + the rear, to acquire a smattering of parliamentary procedure by the day + the Speaker is presented with a gold watch, at the end of the session. Not + he! Not the practical business man, the member of boards, the chairman and + president of societies. He has studied the Rules of the House and + parliamentary law, you may be sure. Genius does not come unprepared, and + is rarely caught napping. After the Legislature adjourned that week the + following telegram was sent over the wires:— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Augustus P. Flint, New York. + + Kindly use your influence with Doby to secure my committee + appointments. Important as per my conversation with you. + + Humphrey Crewe. +</pre> + <p> + Nor was Mr. Crewe idle from Saturday to Monday night, when the committees + were to be announced. He sent to the State Tribune office for fifty copies + of that valuable paper, which contained a two-column-and-a-half article on + Mr. Crewe as a legislator and financier and citizen, with a summary of his + bills and an argument as to how the State would benefit by their adoption; + an accurate list of Mr. Crewe's societies was inserted, and an account of + his life's history, and of those ancestors of his who had been born or + lived within the State. Indeed, the accuracy of this article as a whole + did great credit to the editor of the State Tribune, who must have spent a + tremendous amount of painstaking research upon it; and the article was so + good that Mr. Crewe regretted (undoubtedly for the editor's sake) that a + request could not be appended to it such as is used upon marriage and + funeral notices: “New York, Boston, and Philadelphia papers please copy.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Crewe thought it his duty to remedy as much as possible the + unfortunate limited circulation of the article, and he spent as much as a + whole day making out a list of friends and acquaintances whom he thought + worthy to receive a copy of the Tribune—marked personal. Victoria + Flint got one, and read it to her father at the breakfast table. (Mr. + Flint did not open his.) Austen Vane wondered why any man in his obscure + and helpless position should have been honoured, but honoured he was. He + sent his to Victoria, too, and was surprised to find that she knew his + handwriting and wrote him a letter to thank him for it: a letter which + provoked on his part much laughter, and elements of other sensations + which, according to Charles Reade, should form the ingredients of a good + novel. But of this matter later. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Pomfret and Alice each got one, and each wrote Mr. Crewe appropriate + congratulations. (Alice's answer supervised.) Mrs. Chillingham got one; + the Honourable Hilary Vane got one—marked in red ink, lest he should + have skipped it in his daily perusal of the paper. Mr. Brush, Bascom got + one likewise. But the list of Mr. Crewe's acquaintances is too long and + too broad to dwell upon further in these pages. + </p> + <p> + The Monday-night session came at last, that sensational hour when the + Speaker makes those decisions to which he is supposed to have given birth + over Sunday in the seclusion of his country home at Hale. Monday-night + sessions are, as a rule, confined in attendance to the Honourable Brush + Bascom and Mr. Ridout and a few other conscientious members who do not + believe in cheating the State, but to-night all is bustle and confusion, + and at least four hundred members are pushing down the aisles and + squeezing past each other into the narrow seats, and reading the State + Tribune or the ringing words of the governor's inaugural which they find + in the racks on the back of the seats before them. Speaker Doby, who has + been apparently deep in conference with the most important members (among + them Mr. Crewe, to whom he has whispered that a violent snow-storm is + raging in Hale), raps for order; and after a few preliminaries hands to + Mr. Utter, the clerk, amidst a breathless silence, the paper on which the + parliamentary career of so many ambitious statesmen depends. + </p> + <p> + It is not a pleasure to record the perfidy of man, nor the lack of + judgment which prevents him, in his circumscribed lights, from recognizing + undoubted geniuses when he sees them. Perhaps it was jealousy on General + Doby's part, and a selfish desire to occupy the centre of the stage + himself, but at any rate we will pass hastily over the disagreeable + portions of this narrative. Mr. Crewe settled himself with his feet + extended, and with a complacency which he had rightly earned by leaving no + stone unturned, to listen. He sat up a little when the Appropriations + Committee, headed by the Honourable Jake Botcher, did not contain his name—but + it might have been an oversight of Mr. Utters; when the Judiciary (Mr. + Ridout's committee) was read it began to look like malice; committee after + committee was revealed, and the name of Humphrey Crewe might not have been + contained in the five hundred except as the twelfth member of forestry, + until it appeared at the top of National Affairs. Here was a broad enough + field, certainly,—the Trusts, the Tariff, the Gold Standard, the + Foreign Possessions,—and Mr. Crewe's mind began to soar in spite of + himself. Public Improvements was reached, and he straightened. Mr. Beck, a + railroad lawyer from Belfast, led it. Mr. Crewe arose, as any man of + spirit would, and walked with dignity up the aisle and out of the house. + This deliberate attempt to crush genius would inevitably react on itself. + The Honourable Hilary Vane and Mr. Flint should be informed of it at once. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0010" id="link2HCH0010"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER X. “FOR BILLS MAY COME, AND BILLS MAY GO” + </h2> + <p> + A man with a sense of humour once went to the capital as a member of the + five hundred from his town, and he never went back again. One reason for + this was that he died the following year, literally, the doctors said, + from laughing too much. I know that this statement will be received + incredulously, and disputed by those who claim that laughter is a good + thing; the honourable gentleman died from too much of a good thing. He was + overpowered by having too much to laugh at, and the undiscerning thought + him a fool, and the Empire had no need of a court jester. But many of his + sayings have lived, nevertheless. He wrote a poem, said to be a + plagiarism, which contains the quotation at the beginning of this chapter: + “For bills may come, and bills may go, but I go on forever.” The first + person singular is supposed to relate to the United Northeastern + Railroads. It was a poor joke at best. + </p> + <p> + It is needless to say that the gentleman referred to had a back seat among + the submerged four hundred and seventy,—and that he kept it. No + discerning and powerful well-wishers came forward and said to him, + “Friend, go up higher.” He sat, doubled up, in number, and the gods gave + him compensation in laughter; he disturbed the Solons around him, who were + interested in what was going on in front, and trying to do their duty to + their constituents by learning parliamentary procedure before the Speaker + got his gold watch and shed tears over it. + </p> + <p> + The gentleman who laughed and died is forgotten, as he deserves to be, and + it never occurred to anybody that he might have been a philosopher, after + all. There is something irresistibly funny about predestination; about men + who are striving and learning and soberly voting upon measures with which + they have as little to do as guinea-pigs. There were certain wise and + cynical atheists who did not attend the sessions at all except when they + received mysterious hints to do so. These were chiefly from Newcastle. And + there were others who played poker in the state-house cellar waiting for + the Word to come to them, when they went up and voted (prudently counting + their chips before they did so), and descended again. The man with a sense + of humour laughed at these, too, and at the twenty blackbirds in the + Senate,—but not so heartily. He laughed at their gravity, for no + gravity can equal that of gentlemen who play with stacked cards. + </p> + <p> + The risible gentleman laughed at the proposed legislation, about which he + made the song, and he likened it to a stream that rises hopefully in the + mountains, and takes its way singing at the prospect of reaching the + ocean, but presently flows into a hole in the ground to fill the forgotten + caverns of the earth, and is lost to the knowledge and sight of man. The + caverns he labelled respectively Appropriations, Railroad, Judiciary, and + their guardians were unmistakably the Honourables Messrs. Bascom, Botcher, + and Ridout. The greatest cavern of all he called “The Senate.” + </p> + <p> + If you listen, you can hear the music of the stream of bills as it is + rising hopefully and flowing now: “Mr. Crewe of Leith gives notice that on + to-morrow or some subsequent day he will introduce a bill entitled, 'An + act for the Improvement of the State Highways.' Mr. Crewe of Leith gives + notice, etc. 'An act for the Improvement of the Practice of Agriculture.' + 'An act relating to the State Indebtedness.' 'An act to increase the State + Forest Area.' 'An act to incorporate the State Economic League.' 'An act + to incorporate the State Children's Charities Association.' 'An act in + relation to Abandoned Farms.'” These were some of the most important, and + they were duly introduced on the morrow, and gravely referred by the + Speaker to various committees. As might be expected, a man whose watchword + is, “thorough” immediately got a list of those committees, and lost no + time in hunting up the chairmen and the various available members thereof. + </p> + <p> + As a man of spirit, also, Mr. Crewe wrote to Mr. Flint, protesting as to + the manner in which he had been treated concerning committees. In the + course of a week he received a kind but necessarily brief letter from the + Northeastern's president to remind him that he persisted in a fallacy; as + a neighbour, Mr. Flint would help him to the extent of his power, but the + Northeastern Railroads could not interfere in legislative or political + matters. Mr. Crewe was naturally pained by the lack of confidence of his + friend; it seems useless to reiterate that he was far from being a fool, + and no man could be in the capital a day during the session without being + told of the existence of Number Seven, no matter how little the informant + might know of what might be going on there. Mr. Crewe had been fortunate + enough to see the inside of that mysterious room, and, being a + sufficiently clever man to realize the importance and necessity of + government by corporations, had been shocked at nothing he had seen or + heard. However, had he had a glimpse of the Speaker's lists under the + hopelessly crushed hat of Mr. Bascom, perhaps he might have been shocked, + after all. + </p> + <p> + It was about this time that a touching friendship began which ought, in + justice, to be briefly chronicled. It was impossible for the Honourable + Brush Bascom and the Honourable Jacob Botcher to have Mr. Crewe sitting + between them and not conceive a strong affection for him. The Honourable + Brush, though not given to expressing his feelings, betrayed some surprise + at the volumes Mr. Crewe had contributed to the stream of bills; and Mr. + Botcher, in a Delphic whisper, invited Mr. Crewe to visit him in room + forty-eight of the Pelican that evening. To tell the truth, Mr. Crewe + returned the feeling of his companions warmly, and he had even entertained + the idea of asking them both to dine with him that evening. + </p> + <p> + Number forty-eight (the Honourable Jake's) was a free-and-easy democratic + resort. No three knocks and a password before you turn the key here. + Almost before your knuckles hit the panel you heard Mr. Botcher's hearty + voice shouting “Come in,” in spite of the closed transom. The Honourable + Jake, being a tee-totaller, had no bathroom, and none but his intimate + friends ever looked in the third from the top bureau drawer. + </p> + <p> + The proprietor of the Pelican, who in common with the rest of humanity had + fallen a victim to the rough and honest charms and hearty good fellowship + of the Honourable Jake, always placed a large padded arm-chair in number + forty-eight before the sessions, knowing that the Honourable Jake's + constituency would be uniformly kind to him. There Mr. Botcher was wont to + sit (when he was not depressing one of the tiles in the rotunda), + surrounded by his friends and their tobacco smoke, discussing in his frank + and manly fashion the public questions of the day. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Crewe thought it a little strange that, whenever he entered a room in + the Pelican, a silence should succeed the buzz of talk which he had heard + through the closed transom; but he very naturally attributed this to the + constraint which ordinary men would be likely to feel in his presence. In + the mouth of one presumptuous member the word “railroad” was cut in two by + an agate glance from the Honourable Brush, and Mr. Crewe noted with some + surprise that the Democratic leader of the House, Mr. Painter, was seated + on Mr. Botcher's mattress, with an expression that was in singular + contrast to the look of bold defiance which he had swept over the House + that afternoon in announcing his opposition policy. The vulgar political + suggestion might have crept into a more trivial mind than Mr. Crewe's that + Mr. Painter was being, “put to bed,” the bed being very similar to that of + Procrustes. Mr. Botcher extracted himself from the nooks and crannies of + his armchair. + </p> + <p> + “How are you, Crewe?” he said hospitably; “we're all friends here—eh, + Painter? We don't carry our quarrels outside the swinging doors. You know + Mr. Crewe—by sight, of course. Do you know these other gentlemen, + Crewe? I didn't expect you so early.” + </p> + <p> + The “other gentlemen” said that they were happy to make the acquaintance + of their fellow-member from Leith, and seemingly with one consent began to + edge towards the door. + </p> + <p> + “Don't go, boys,” Mr. Bascom protested. “Let me finish that story.” + </p> + <p> + Some of “the boys” seemed to regard this statement as humorous,—more + humorous, indeed, than the story itself. And when it was finished they + took their departure, a trifle awkwardly, led by Mr. Painter. + </p> + <p> + “They're a little mite bashful,” said Mr. Botcher, apologetically. + </p> + <p> + “How many more of those bills have you got?” demanded Mr. Bascom, from the + steam radiator, with characteristic directness. + </p> + <p> + “I put 'em all in this morning,” said Mr. Crewe, “but I have thought since + of two or three other conditions which might be benefited by legislation.” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said Mr. Bascom, kindly, “if you have any more I was going to + suggest that you distribute 'em round among the boys. That's the way I do, + and most folks don't guess they're your bills. See?” + </p> + <p> + “What harm is there in that?” demanded Mr. Crewe. “I'm not ashamed of + 'em.” + </p> + <p> + “Brush was only lookin' at it from the point of view of gettin' 'em + through,” honest Mr. Botcher put in, in stentorian tones. “It doesn't do + for a new member to be thought a hog about legislation.” + </p> + <p> + Now the Honourable Jacob only meant this in the kindest manner, as we + know, and to give inexperience a hint from well-intentioned experience. On + the other hand, Mr. Crewe had a dignity and a position to uphold. He was a + personality. People who went too far with him were apt to be rebuked by a + certain glassy quality in his eye, and this now caused the Honourable Jake + to draw back perceptibly. + </p> + <p> + “I see no reason why a public-spirited man should be open to such an + imputation,” said Mr. Crewe. + </p> + <p> + “Certainly not, certainly not,” said Mr. Botcher, in stentorian tones of + apology, “I was only trying to give you a little friendly advice, but I + may have put it too strong. Brush and I—I may as well be plain about + it, Mr. Crewe—have taken a liking to you. Couldn't help it, sir, + sitting next to you as we do. We take an interest in your career, and we + don't want you to make any mistakes. Ain't that about it, Brush?” + </p> + <p> + “That's about it,” said Mr. Bascom. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Crewe was to big a man not to perceive and appreciate the sterling + philanthropy which lay beneath the exteriors of his new friends, who + scorned to flatter him. + </p> + <p> + “I understand the spirit in which your advice is given, gentlemen,” he + replied magnanimously, “and I appreciate it. We are all working for the + same things, and we all believe that they must be brought about in the + same practical way. For instance, we know as practical men that the + railroad pays a large tax in this State, and that property must take a + hand—a very considerable hand—in legislation. You gentlemen, + as important factors in the Republican organization, are loyal to—er—that + property, and perhaps for wholly desirable reasons cannot bring forward + too many bills under your own names. Whereas I—” + </p> + <p> + At this point in Mr. Crewe's remarks the Honourable Jacob Botcher was + seized by an appalling coughing fit which threatened to break his + arm-chair, probably owing to the fact that he had swallowed something + which he had in his mouth the wrong way. Mr. Bascom, assisted by Mr. + Crewe, pounded him relentlessly on the back. + </p> + <p> + “I read that article in the 'Tribune' about you with great interest,” said + Mr. Bascom, when Mr. Botcher's coughing had subsided. “I had no idea you + were so—ahem—well equipped for a political career. But what we + wanted to speak to you about was this,” he continued, as Mr. Crewe showed + signs of breaking in, “those committee appointments you desired.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Mr. Crewe, with some pardonable heat, “the Speaker doesn't + seem to know which side his bread's buttered on.” + </p> + <p> + “What I was going to say,” proceeded Mr. Bascom, “was that General Doby is + a pretty good fellow. Personally, I happen to know that the general feels + very badly that he couldn't give you what you wanted. He took a shine to + you that night you saw him.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” Mr. Botcher agreed, for he had quite recovered, “the general felt + bad—feels bad, I should say. He perceived that you were a man of + ability, sir—” + </p> + <p> + “And that was just the reason,” said the Honourable Brush, “that he + couldn't make you more useful just now.” + </p> + <p> + “There's a good deal of jealousy, my dear sir, against young members of + ability,” said Mr. Botcher, in his most oracular and impressive tones. + “The competition amongst those—er—who have served the party is + very keen for the positions you desired. I personally happen to know that + the general had you on the Judiciary and Appropriations, and that some of + your—er—well-wishers persuaded him to take you off for your + own good.” + </p> + <p> + “It wouldn't do for the party leaders to make you too prominent all at + once,” said Mr. Bascom. “You are bound to take an active part in what + passes here. The general said, 'At all events I will give Mr. Crewe one + chairmanship by which he can make a name for himself suited to his + talents,' and he insisted on giving you, in spite of some remonstrances + from your friends, National Affairs. The general urged, rightly, that with + your broad view and knowledge of national policy, it was his duty to put + you in that place whatever people might say.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Crewe listened to these explanations in some surprise; and being a + rational man, had to confess that they were—more or less reasonable. + </p> + <p> + “Scarcely any bills come before that committee,” he objected. + </p> + <p> + “Ah,” replied Mr. Bascom, “that is true. But the chairman of that + committee is generally supposed to be in line for—er—national + honours. It has not always happened in the past, because the men have not + proved worthy. But the opportunity is always given to that chairman to + make a speech upon national affairs which is listened to with the deepest + interest. + </p> + <p> + “Is that so?” said Mr. Crewe. He wanted to be of service, as we know. He + was a man of ideas, and the opening sentences of the speech were already + occurring to him. + </p> + <p> + “Let's go upstairs and see the general now,” suggested Mr. Botcher, + smiling that such a happy thought should have occurred to him. + </p> + <p> + “Why, I guess we couldn't do any better,” Mr. Bascom agreed. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said Mr. Crewe, “I'm willing to hear what he's got to say, + anyway.” + </p> + <p> + Taking advantage of this generous concession, Mr. Botcher hastily locked + the door, and led the way up the stairway to number seventy-five. After a + knock or two here, the door opened a crack, disclosing, instead of General + Doby's cherubic countenance, a sallow face with an exceedingly pointed + nose. The owner of these features, having only Mr. Botcher in his line of + vision, made what was perhaps an unguarded remark. + </p> + <p> + “Hello, Jake, the general's in number nine—Manning sent for him + about half an hour ago.” + </p> + <p> + It was Mr. Botcher himself who almost closed the door on the gentleman's + sharp nose, and took Mr. Crewe's arm confidingly. + </p> + <p> + “We'll go up to the desk and see Doby in the morning,—he's busy,” + said the Honourable Jake. + </p> + <p> + “What's the matter with seeing him now?” Mr. Crewe demanded. “I know + Manning. He's the division superintendent, isn't he?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Botcher and Mr. Bascom exchanged glances. + </p> + <p> + “Why, yes—” said Mr. Bascom, “yes, he is. He's a great friend of + General Doby's, and their wives are great friends.” + </p> + <p> + “Intimate friends, sir,” said the Honourable Jake + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said Mr. Crewe, “we won't bother 'em but a moment.” + </p> + <p> + It was he who led the way now, briskly, the Honourable Brush and the + Honourable Jake pressing closely after him. It was Mr. Crewe who, without + pausing to knock, pushed open the door of number nine, which was not quite + closed; and it was Mr. Crewe who made the important discovery that the + lugubrious division superintendent had a sense of humour. Mr. Manning was + seated at a marble-topped table writing on a salmon-coloured card, in the + act of pronouncing these words:—“For Mr. Speaker and Mrs. Speaker + and all the little Speakers, to New York and return.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Speaker Doby, standing before the marble-topped table with his hands + in his pockets, heard the noise behind him and turned, and a mournful + expression spread over his countenance. + </p> + <p> + “Don't mind me,” said Mr. Crewe, waving a hand in the direction of the + salmon-coloured tickets; “I hope you have a good time, General. When do + you go?” + </p> + <p> + “Why,” exclaimed the Speaker, “how are you, Mr. Crewe, how are you? It's + only one of Manning's little jokes.” + </p> + <p> + “That's all right, General,” said Mr. Crewe, “I haven't been a director in + railroads for nothing. I'm not as green as he thinks. Am I, Mr. Manning?” + </p> + <p> + “It never struck me that green was your colour, Mr. Crewe,” answered the + division superintendent, smiling a little as he tore the tickets into bits + and put them in the waste-basket. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said Mr. Crewe, “you needn't have torn 'em up on my account. I + travel on the pass which the Northeastern gives me as a legislator, and + I'm thinking seriously of getting Mr. Flint to send me an annual, now that + I'm in politics and have to cover the State.” + </p> + <p> + “We thought you were a reformer, Mr. Crewe,” the Honourable Brush Bascom + remarked. + </p> + <p> + “I am a practical man,” said Mr. Crewe; “a railroad man, a business mark + and as such I try to see things as they are.” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said General Doby, who by this time had regained his usual genial + air of composure, “I'm glad you said that, Mr. Crewe. As these gentlemen + will tell you, if I'd had my wish I'd have had you on every important + committee in the House.” + </p> + <p> + “Chairman of every important committee, General,” corrected the Honourable + Jacob Botcher. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, chairman of 'em,” assented the general, after a glance at Mr. + Crewe's countenance to see how this statement fared. “But the fact is, the + boys are all jealous of you—on the quiet. I suppose you suspected + something of the kind.” + </p> + <p> + “I should have imagined there might be some little feeling,” Mr. Crewe + assented modestly. + </p> + <p> + “Exactly,” cried the general, “and I had to combat that feeling when I + insisted upon putting you at the head of National Affairs. It does not do + for a new member, whatever his prominence in the financial world, to be + pushed forward too quickly. And unless I am mighty mistaken, Mr. Crewe,” + he added, with his hand on the new member's shoulder, “you will make + yourself felt without any boosting from me.” + </p> + <p> + “I did not come here to remain idle, General,” answered Mr. Crewe, + considerably mollified. + </p> + <p> + “Certainly not,” said the general, “and I say to some of those men, 'Keep + your eye on the gentleman who is Chairman of National Affairs.'” + </p> + <p> + After a little more of this desultory and pleasant talk, during which + recourse was, had to the bathroom for several tall and thin glasses ranged + on the shelf there, Mr. Crewe took his departure in a most equable frame + of mind. And when the door was closed and locked behind him, Mr. Manning + dipped his pen in the ink, once more produced from a drawer in the table + the salmon-coloured tickets, and glanced again at the general with a + smile. + </p> + <p> + “For Mr. Speaker and Mrs. Speaker and all the little Speakers, to New York + and return.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0012" id="link2H_4_0012"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + BOOK 2. + </h2> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0011" id="link2HCH0011"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XI. THE HOPPER + </h2> + <p> + It is certainly not the function of a romance to relate, with the + exactness of a House journal, the proceedings of a Legislature. Somebody + has likened the state-house to pioneer Kentucky, a dark and bloody ground + over which the battles of selfish interests ebbed and flowed,—no + place for an innocent and unselfish bystander like Mr. Crewe, who desired + only to make of his State an Utopia; whose measures were for the public + good—not his own. But if any politician were fatuous enough to + believe that Humphrey Crewe was a man to introduce bills and calmly await + their fate; a man who, like Senator Sanderson, only came down to the + capital when he was notified by telegram, that politician was entirely + mistaken. + </p> + <p> + No sooner had his bills been assigned to the careful and just + consideration of the committees in charge of the Honourable Brush Bascom, + Mr. Botcher, and others than Mr. Crewe desired of each a day for a + hearing. Every member of the five hundred was provided with a copy; nay, + nearly every member was personally appealed to, to appear and speak for + the measures. Foresters, road builders, and agriculturists (expenses paid) + were sent for from other States; Mr. Ball and others came down from Leith, + and gentlemen who for a generation had written letters to the newspapers + turned up from other localities. In two cases the largest committee rooms + proved too small for the gathering which was the result of Mr. Crewe's + energy, and the legislative hall had to be lighted. The State Tribune gave + column reports of the hearings, and little editorial pushes besides. And + yet, when all was over, when it had been proved beyond a doubt that, if + the State would consent to spend a little money, she would take the + foremost rank among her forty odd sisters for progression, the bills were + still under consideration by those hardheaded statesmen, Mr. Bascom and + Mr. Botcher and their associates. + </p> + <p> + It could not be because these gentlemen did not know the arguments and see + the necessity. Mr. Crewe had had them to dinner, and had spent so much + time in their company presenting his case—to which they absolutely + agreed—that they took to a forced seclusion. The member from Leith + also wrote letters and telegrams, and sent long typewritten arguments and + documents to Mr. Flint. Mr. Crewe, although far from discouraged, began to + think there was something mysterious about all this seemingly unnecessary + deliberation. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Crewe, though of great discernment, was only mortal, and while he was + fighting his battle single-handed, how was he to know that the gods above + him were taking sides and preparing for conflict? The gods do not give out + their declarations of war for publication to the Associated Press; and old + Tom Gaylord, who may be likened to Mars, had no intention of sending + Jupiter notice until he got his cohorts into line. The strife, because it + was to be internecine, was the more terrible. Hitherto the Gaylord Lumber + Company, like the Winona Manufacturing Company of Newcastle (the mills of + which extended for miles along the Tyne), had been a faithful ally of the + Empire; and, on occasions when it was needed, had borrowed the Imperial + army to obtain grants, extensions, and franchises. + </p> + <p> + The fact is that old Tom Gaylord, in the autumn previous, had quarreled + with Mr. Flint about lumber rates, which had been steadily rising. Mr. + Flint had been polite, but firm; and old Tom, who, with all his tremendous + properties, could ship by no other railroad than the Northeastern, had + left the New York office in a black rage. A more innocent citizen than old + Tom would have put his case (which was without doubt a strong one) before + the Railroad Commission of the State, but old Tom knew well enough that + the Railroad Commission was in reality an economy board of the + Northeastern system, as much under Mr. Flint's orders as the conductors + and brakemen. Old Tom, in consulting the map, conceived an unheard-of + effrontery, a high treason which took away the breath of his secretary and + treasurer when it was pointed out to him. The plan contemplated a line of + railroad from the heart of the lumber regions down the south side of the + valley of the Pingsquit to Kingston, where the lumber could take to the + sea. In short, it was a pernicious revival of an obsolete state of + affairs, competition, and if persisted in, involved nothing less than a + fight to a finish with the army, the lobby of the Northeastern. Other + favoured beings stood aghast when they heard of it, and hastened to old + Tom with timely counsel; but he had reached a frame of mind which they + knew well. He would listen to no reason, and maintained stoutly that there + were other lawyers in the world as able in political sagacity and lobby + tactics as Hilary Vane; the Honourable Galusha Hammer, for instance, an + old and independent and wary war-horse who had more than once wrung + compromises out of the Honourable Hilary. The Honourable Galusha Hammer + was sent for, and was now industriously, if quietly and unobtrusively, at + work. The Honourable Hilary was likewise at work, equally quietly and + unobtrusively. When the powers fall out, they do not open up at once with + long-distance artillery. There is always a chance of a friendly + settlement. The news was worth a good deal, for instance, to Mr. Peter + Pardriff (brother of Paul, of Ripton), who refrained, with praiseworthy + self-control, from publishing it in the State Tribune, although the + temptation to do so must have been great. And most of the senatorial + twenty saw the trouble coming and braced their backs against it, but in + silence. The capital had seen no such war as this since the days of Jethro + Bass. + </p> + <p> + In the meantime Mr. Crewe, blissfully ignorant of this impending conflict, + was preparing a speech on national affairs and national issues which was + to startle an unsuspecting State. Mrs. Pomfret, who had received many + clippings and pamphlets, had written him weekly letters of a nature + spurring to his ambition, which incidentally contained many references to + Alice's interest in his career. And Mr. Crewe's mind, when not intent upon + affairs of State, sometimes reverted pleasantly to thoughts of Victoria + Flint; it occurred to him that the Duncan house was large enough for + entertaining, and that he might invite Mrs. Pomfret to bring Victoria and + the inevitable Alice to hear his oration, for which Mr. Speaker Doby had + set a day. + </p> + <p> + In his desire to give other people pleasure, Mr. Crewe took the trouble to + notify a great many of his friends and acquaintances as to the day of his + speech, in case they might wish to travel to the State capital and hear + him deliver it. Having unexpectedly received in the mail a cheque from + Austen Vane in settlement of the case of the injured horse, Austen was + likewise invited. + </p> + <p> + Austen smiled when he opened the letter, and with its businesslike + contents there seemed to be wafted from it the perfume and suppliance of a + September day in the Vale of the Blue. From the window of his back office, + looking across the railroad tracks, he could see Sawanec, pale in her + winter garb against a pale winter sky, and there arose in him the old + restless desire for the woods and fields which at times was almost + irresistible. His thoughts at length descending from the azure above + Sawanec, his eyes fell again on Mr. Crewe's typewritten words: “It may be + of interest to you that I am to deliver, on the 15th instant, and as the + Chairman of the House Committee on National Affairs, a speech upon + national policies which is the result of much thought, and which touches + upon such material needs of our State as can be supplied by the Federal + Government.” + </p> + <p> + Austen had a brief fancy, whimsical as it was, of going to hear him. Mr. + Crewe, as a type absolutely new to him, interested him. He had followed + the unusual and somewhat surprising career of the gentleman from Leith + with some care, even to the extent of reading of Mr. Crewe's activities in + the State Tribunes which had been sent him. Were such qualifications as + Mr. Crewe possessed, he wondered, of a kind to sweep their possessor into + high office? Were industry, persistency, and a capacity for taking + advantage of a fair wind sufficient? + </p> + <p> + Since his return from Pepper County, Austen Vane had never been to the + State capital during a session, although it was common for young lawyers + to have cases before the Legislature. It would have been difficult to say + why he did not take these cases, aside from the fact that they were not + very remunerative. On occasions gentlemen from different parts of the + State, and some from outside of it who had certain favours to ask at the + hands of the lawmaking body, had visited his back office and closed the + door after them, and in the course of the conversation had referred to the + relationship of the young lawyer to Hilary Vane. At such times Austen + would freely acknowledge the debt of gratitude he owed his father for + being in the world—and refer them politely to Mr. Hilary Vane + himself. In most cases they had followed his advice, wondering not a + little at this isolated example of quixotism. + </p> + <p> + During the sessions, except for a day or two at week ends which were often + occupied with conferences, the Honourable Hilary's office was deserted; or + rather, as we have seen, his headquarters were removed to room Number + Seven in the Pelican Hotel at the capital. Austen got many of the lay + clients who came to see his father at such times; and—without giving + an exaggerated idea of his income—it might be said that he was + beginning to have what may be called a snug practice for a lawyer of his + experience. In other words, according to Mr. Tooting, who took an intense + interest in the matter, “not wearing the collar” had been more of a + financial success for Austen than that gentleman had imagined. There + proved to be many clients to whom the fact that young Mr. Vane did not + carry a “retainer pass” actually appealed. These clients paid their bills, + but they were neither large nor influential, as a rule, with the notable + exception of the Gaylord Lumber Company, where the matters for trial were + not large. If young Tom Gaylord had had his way, Austen would have been + the chief counsel for the corporation. + </p> + <p> + To tell the truth, Austen Vane had a secret aversion to going to the + capital during a session, a feeling that such a visit would cause him + unhappiness. In spite of his efforts, and indeed in spite of Hilary's, + Austen and his father had grown steadily apart. They met in the office + hallway, in the house in Hanover Street when Hilary came home to sleep, + and the elder Mr. Vane was not a man to thrive on small talk. His world + was the battlefield from which he directed the forces of the great + corporation which he served, and the cherished vision of a son in whom he + could confide his plans, upon whose aid and counsel he could lean, was + gone forever. Hilary Vane had troublesome half-hours, but on the whole he + had reached the conclusion that this son, like Sarah Austen, was one of + those inexplicable products in which an extravagant and inscrutable nature + sometimes indulged. On the rare evenings when the two were at home + together, the Honourable Hilary sat under one side of the lamp with a pile + of documents and newspapers, and Austen under the other with a book from + the circulating library. No public questions could be broached upon which + they were not as far apart as the poles, and the Honourable Hilary put + literature in the same category as embroidery. Euphrasia, when she paused + in her bodily activity to darn their stockings, used to glance at them + covertly from time to time, and many a silent tear of which they knew + nothing fell on her needle. + </p> + <p> + On the subject of his protracted weekly absences at the State capital, the + Honourable Hilary was as uncommunicative as he would have been had he + retired for those periods to a bar-room. He often grunted and cleared his + throat and glanced at his son when their talk bordered upon these + absences; and he was even conscious of an extreme irritation against + himself as well as Austen because of the instinct that bade him keep + silent. He told himself fiercely that he had nothing to be ashamed of, nor + would he have acknowledged that it was a kind of shame that bade him + refrain even from circumstantial accounts of what went on in room Number + Seven of the Pelican. He had an idea that Austen knew and silently + condemned; and how extremely maddening was this feeling to the Honourable + Hilary may well be imagined. All his life long he had deemed himself + morally invulnerable, and now to be judged and ethically found wanting by + the son of Sarah Austen was, at times, almost insupportable. Were the + standards of a long life to be suddenly reversed by a prodigal son? + </p> + <p> + To get back to Austen. On St. Valentine's Day of that year when, to tell + the truth, he was seated in his office scribbling certain descriptions of + nature suggested by the valentines in Mr. Hayman's stationery store, the + postman brought in a letter from young Tom Gaylord. Austen laughed as he + read it. “The Honourable Galusha Hammer is well named,” young Tom wrote, + “but the conviction has been gaining ground with me that a hammer is about + as much use as a shovel would be at the present time. It is not the proper + instrument.” “But the 'old man'” (it was thus young Tom was wont to + designate his parent) “is pig-headed when he gets to fighting, and won't + listen to reason. If he believes he can lick the Northeastern with a + Hammer, he is durned badly mistaken, and I told him so. I have been giving + him sage advice in little drops—after meals. I tell him there is + only one man in the State who has sense enough even to shake the + Northeastern, and that's you. He thinks this a pretty good joke. Of course + I realize where your old man is planted, and that you might have some + natural delicacy and wish to refrain from giving him a jar. But come down + for an hour and let me talk to you, anyway. The new statesman from Leith + is cutting a wide swath. Not a day passes but his voice is heard roaring + in the Forum; he has visited all the State institutions, dined and wined + the governor and his staff and all the ex-governors he can lay his hands + on, and he has that hard-headed and caustic journalist, Mr. Peter + Pardriff, of the State Tribune, hypnotized. He has some swells up at his + house to hear his speech on national affairs, among them old Flint's + daughter, who is a ripper to look at, although I never got nearer to her + than across the street. As you may guess, it is something of a card for + Crewe to have Flint's daughter here.” + </p> + <p> + Austen sat for a long time after reading this letter, idly watching the + snow-clouds gathering around Sawanec. Then he tore up the paper, on which + he had been scribbling, into very small bits, consulted a time-table, and + at noon, in a tumult of feelings, he found himself in a back seat of the + express, bound for the capital. + </p> + <p> + Arriving at the station, amidst a hurry and bustle of legislators and + politicians coming and going, many of whom nodded to him, he stood for a + minute in the whirling snow reflecting. Now that he was here, where was he + to stay? The idea of spending the night at the Pelican was repellent to + him, and he was hesitating between two more modest hostelries when he was + hailed by a giant with a flowing white beard, a weather-beaten face, and a + clear eye that shone with a steady and kindly light. It was James + Redbrook, the member from Mercer. + </p> + <p> + “Why, how be you, Austen?” he cried, extending a welcome hand; and, when + Austen had told him his dilemma: “Come right along up to my lodgings. I + live at the Widow Peasley's, and there's a vacant room next to mine.” + </p> + <p> + Austen accepted gratefully, and as they trudged through the storm up the + hill, he inquired how legislative matters were progressing. Whereupon Mr. + Redbrook unburdened himself. + </p> + <p> + “Say, I just warmed up all over when I see you, Austen. I'm so glad to run + across an honest man. We ain't forgot in Mercer what you did for Zeb + Meader, and how you went against your interests. And I guess it ain't done + you any harm in the State. As many as thirty or forty members have spoke + to me about it. And down here I've got so I just can't hold in any more.” + </p> + <p> + “Is it as bad as that, Mr. Redbrook?” asked Austen, with a serious glance + at the farmer's face. + </p> + <p> + “It's so bad I don't know how to begin,” said the member from Mercer, and + paused suddenly. “But I don't want to hurt your feelings, Austen, seeing + your father is—where he is.” + </p> + <p> + “Go on,” said Austen, “I understand.” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said Mr. Redbrook, “it just makes me tremble as an American + citizen. The railrud sends them slick cusses down here that sit in the + front seats who know all this here parliamentary law and the tricks of the + trade, and every time any of us gets up to speak our honest minds, they + have us ruled out of order or get the thing laid on the table until some + Friday morning when there ain't nobody here, and send it along up to the + Senate. They made that fat feller, Doby, Speaker, and he's stuffed all the + important committees so that you can't get an honest measure considered. + You can talk to the committees all you've a mind to, and they'll just + listen and never do anything. There's five hundred in the House, and it + ain't any more of a Legislature than a camp-meetin' is. What do you + suppose they done last Friday morning, when there wahn't but twenty men at + the session? We had an anti-pass law, and all these fellers were breakin' + it. It forbid anybody riding on a pass except railroad presidents, + directors, express messengers, and persons in misfortune, and they stuck + in these words, 'and others to whom passes have been granted by the proper + officers.' Ain't that a disgrace to the State? And those twenty senators + passed it before we got back on Tuesday. You can't get a bill through that + Legislature unless you go up to the Pelican and get permission of Hilary—” + </p> + <p> + Here Mr. Redbrook stopped abruptly, and glanced contritely at his + companion. + </p> + <p> + “I didn't mean to get goin' so,” he said, “but sometimes I wish this + American government'd never been started.” + </p> + <p> + “I often feel that way myself, Mr. Redbrook,” said Austen. + </p> + <p> + “I knowed you did. I guess I can tell an honest man when I see one. It's + treason to say anything against this Northeastern louder than a whisper. + They want an electric railrud bad up in Greenacre, and when some of us + spoke for it and tried to get the committee to report it, those cheap + fellers from Newcastle started such a catcall we had to set down.” + </p> + <p> + By this time they were at the Widow Peasley's, stamping the snow from off + their boots. + </p> + <p> + “How general is this sentiment?” Austen asked, after he had set down his + bag in the room he was to occupy. + </p> + <p> + “Why,” said Mr. Redbrook, with conviction, “there's enough feel as I do to + turn that House upside down—if we only had a leader. If you was only + in there, Austen.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm afraid I shouldn't be of much use,” Austen answered. “They'd have + given me a back seat, too.” + </p> + <p> + The Widow Peasley's was a frame and gabled house of Revolutionary days + with a little terrace in front of it and a retaining wall built up from + the sidewalk. Austen, on the steps, stood gazing across at a square + mansion with a wide cornice, half hidden by elms and maples and pines. It + was set far back from the street, and a driveway entered the picket-fence + and swept a wide semicircle to the front door and back again. Before the + door was a sleigh of a pattern new to him, with a seat high above the + backs of two long-bodied, deep-chested horses, their heads held with + difficulty by a little footman with his arms above him. At that moment two + figures in furs emerged from the house. The young woman gathered up the + reins and leaped lightly to the box, the man followed; the little groom + touched his fur helmet and scrambled aboard as the horses sprang forward + to the music of the softest of bells. The sleigh swept around the curve, + avoided by a clever turn a snow-pile at the entrance, the young woman + raised her eyes from the horses, stared at Austen, and bowed. As for + Austen, he grew warm as he took off his hat, and he realized that his hand + was actually trembling. The sleigh flew on up the hill, but she turned + once more to look behind her, and he still had his hat in his hand, the + snowflakes falling on his bared head. Then he was aware that James + Redbrook was gazing at him curiously. + </p> + <p> + “That's Flint's daughter, ain't it?” inquired the member from Mercer. + “Didn't callate you'd know her.” + </p> + <p> + Austen flushed. He felt exceedingly foolish, but an answer came to him. + </p> + <p> + “I met her in the hospital. She used to go there to see Zeb Meader.” + </p> + <p> + “That's so,” said Mr. Redbrook; “Zeb told me about it, and she used to + come to Mercer to see him after he got out. She ain't much like the old + man, I callate.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't think she is,” said Austen. + </p> + <p> + “I don't know what she's stayin' with that feller Crewe for,” the farmer + remarked; “of all the etarnal darn idiots—why, Brush Bascom and that + Botcher and the rest of 'em are trailin' him along and usin' him for the + best thing that ever came down here. He sets up to be a practical man, and + don't know as much as some of us hayseeds in the back seats. Where be you + goin'?” + </p> + <p> + “I was going to the Pelican.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I've got a committee meetin' of Agriculture,” said Mr. Redbrook. + “Could you be up here at Mis' Peasley's about eight to-night?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, yes,” Austen replied, “if you want to see me.” + </p> + <p> + “I do want to see you,” said Mr. Redbrook, significantly, and waved a + farewell. + </p> + <p> + Austen took his way slowly across the state-house park, threading among + the groups between the snow-banks towards the wide facade of the Pelican + Hotel. Presently he paused, and then with a sudden determination crossed + the park diagonally into Main Street, walking rapidly southward and + scrutinizing the buildings on either side until at length these began to + grow wide apart, and he spied a florist's sign with a greenhouse behind + it. He halted again, irresolutely, in front of it, flung open the door, + and entered a boxlike office filled with the heated scents of flowers. A + little man eyed him with an obsequious interest which he must have + accorded to other young men on similar errands. Austen may be spared a + repetition of the very painful conversation that ensued; suffice it to say + that, after mature deliberation, violets were chosen. He had a notion—not + analyzed—that she would prefer violets to roses. The information + that the flowers were for the daughter of the president of the + Northeastern Railroads caused a visible quickening of the little florist's + regard, an attitude which aroused a corresponding disgust and depression + in Austen. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes,” said the florist, “she's up at Crewe's.” He glanced at Austen + apologetically. “Excuse me,” he said, “I ought to know you. Have you a + card?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Austen, with emphasis. + </p> + <p> + “And what name, please?” + </p> + <p> + “No name,” said the donor, now heartily repenting of his rashness, and + slamming the glass door in a manner that made the panes rattle behind him. + </p> + <p> + As he stood hesitating on the curb of the crossing, he began to wish that + he had not left Ripton. + </p> + <p> + “Hello, Austen,” said a voice, which he recognized as the Honourable Brush + Bascom's, “didn't know you ever came down here in session time.” + </p> + <p> + “What are you doing down here, Brush?” Austen asked. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Bascom grinned in appreciation of this pleasantry. + </p> + <p> + “I came for my health,” he said; “I prefer it to Florida.” + </p> + <p> + “I've heard that it agrees with some people,” said Austen. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Bascom grinned again. + </p> + <p> + “Just arrived?” he inquired. + </p> + <p> + “Just,” said Austen. + </p> + <p> + “I thought you'd get here sooner or later,” said Mr. Bascom. “Some folks + try stayin' away, but it ain't much use. You'll find the honourable Hilary + doing business at the same old stand, next to the governor, in Number + Seven up there.” And Mr. Bascom pointed to the well-known window on the + second floor. + </p> + <p> + “Thanks, Brush,” said Austen, indifferently. “To tell the truth, I came + down to hear that promising protege of yours speak on national affairs. I + understand you're pushing his bills along.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Bascom, with great deliberation, shut one of his little eyes. + </p> + <p> + “So long,” he said, “come and see me when you get time.” + </p> + <p> + Austen went slowly down the street and entered the smoke-clouded lobby of + the Pelican. He was a man to draw attention, and he was stared at by many + politicians there and spoken to by some before he reached the stairs. + Mounting, he found the door with the numeral, and knocked. The medley of + voices within ceased; there were sounds of rattling papers, and of closing + of folding doors. The key turned in the lock, and State Senator Nathaniel + Billings appeared in the doorway, with a look of polite inquiry on his + convivial face. This expression, when he saw Austen, changed to something + like consternation. + </p> + <p> + “Why, hello, hello,” said the senator. “Come in, come in. The Honourable + Hilary's here. Where'd you come down?” + </p> + <p> + “Hello, Nat,” said Austen, and went in. + </p> + <p> + The Honourable Hilary sat in his usual arm-chair; Mr. Botcher severely + strained the tensile strength of the bedsprings; Mr. Hamilton Tooting + stood before the still waving portieres in front of the folding doors; and + Mr. Manning, the division superintendent, sat pensively, with his pen in + his mouth, before the marble-topped table from which everything had been + removed but a Bible. Two gentlemen, whom Austen recognized as colleagues + of Mr. Billings in the State Senate, stood together in a window, pointing + out things of interest in the street. Austen walked up to his father and + laid a hand on his shoulder. + </p> + <p> + “How are you, Judge?” he said. “I only came into pay my respects. I hope I + have not disturbed any—entertainment going on here,” he added, + glancing in turn at the thoughtful occupants of the room, and then at the + curtains which hid the folding doors to the apartment of his Excellency. + </p> + <p> + “Why, no,” answered the Honourable Hilary, his customary grunt being the + only indication of surprise on his part; “didn't know you were coming + down.” + </p> + <p> + “I didn't know it myself until this morning,” said Austen. + </p> + <p> + “Legislative case, I suppose,” remarked the Honourable Jacob Botcher, in + his deep voice. + </p> + <p> + “No, merely a pleasure trip, Mr. Botcher.” + </p> + <p> + The Honourable Jacob rubbed his throat, the two State senators in the + window giggled, and Mr. Hamilton Tooting laughed. + </p> + <p> + “I thought you took to the mountains in such cases, sir,” said Mr. + Botcher. + </p> + <p> + “I came for intellectual pleasure this time,” said Austen. “I understand + that Mr. Crewe is to deliver an epoch-making speech on the national + situation to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + This was too much even for the gravity of Mr. Manning; Mr. Tooting and Mr. + Billings and his two colleagues roared, though the Honourable Jacob's + laugh was not so spontaneous. + </p> + <p> + “Aust,” said Mr. Tooting, admiringly, “you're all right.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, Judge,” said Austen, patting his father's shoulder again, “I'm glad + to see you so comfortably fixed. Good-by, and give my regards to the + governor. I'm sorry to have missed him,” he added, glancing at the + portieres that hid the folding doors. + </p> + <p> + “Are you stopping here?” asked the Honourable Hilary. + </p> + <p> + “No, I met Mr. Redbrook of Mercer, and he took me up to his lodgings. If I + can do anything for you, a message will reach me there.” + </p> + <p> + “Humph,” said the Honourable Hilary, while the others exchanged + significant glances. + </p> + <p> + Austen had not gone half the length of the hall when he was overtaken by + Mr. Tooting. + </p> + <p> + “Say, Aust, what's up between you and Redbrook?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “Nothing. Why?” Austen asked, stopping abruptly. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I suppose you know there's an anti-railroad feeling growing in that + House, and that Redbrook has more influence with the farmers than any + other man.” + </p> + <p> + “I didn't know anything about Mr. Redbrook's influence,” said Austen. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Tooting looked unconvinced. + </p> + <p> + “Say, Aust, if anything's in the wind, I wish you'd let me know. I'll keep + it quiet.” + </p> + <p> + “I think I shall be safe in promising that, Ham,” said Austen. “When + there's anything in the wind, you generally find it out first.” + </p> + <p> + “There's trouble coming for the railroad,” said Mr. Tooting. “I can see + that. And I guess you saw it before I did.” + </p> + <p> + “They say a ship's about to sink when the rats begin to leave it,” said + Austen. + </p> + <p> + Although Austen spoke smilingly, Mr. Tooting looked pained. + </p> + <p> + “There's no chance for young men in that system,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “Young men write the noble parts of the governor's inaugurals,” said + Austen. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Mr. Tooting, bitterly, “but you never get to be governor and + read 'em. You've got to be a 'come on' with thirty thousand dollars to be + a Northeastern governor and live next door to the Honourable Hilary in the + Pelican. Well, so long, Aust. If anything's up, give me the tip, that's + all I ask.” + </p> + <p> + Reflecting on the singular character of Mr. Tooting, Austen sought the + Gaylords' headquarters, and found them at the furthermost end of the + building from the Railroad Room. The door was opened by young Tom himself, + whose face became wreathed in smiles when he saw who the visitor was. + </p> + <p> + “It's Austen!” he cried. “I thought you'd come down when you got that + appeal of mine.” + </p> + <p> + Austen did not admit the self-sacrifice as he shook Tom's hand; but + remembered, singularly enough, the closing sentences of Tom's letter—which + had nothing whatever to do with the Gaylord bill. + </p> + <p> + At this moment a commotion arose within the room, and a high, tremulous, + but singularly fierce and compelling voice was heard crying out:—“Get + out! Get out, d——n you, all of you, and don't come back until + you've got some notion of what you're a-goin' to do. Get out, I say!” + </p> + <p> + These last words were pronounced with such extraordinary vigour that four + gentlemen seemed to be physically impelled from the room. Three of them + Austen recognized as dismissed and disgruntled soldiers from the lobby + army of the Northeastern; the fourth was the Honourable Galusha Hammer, + whose mode of progress might be described as “stalking,” and whose lips + were forming the word “intolerable.” In the corner old Tom himself could + be seen, a wizened figure of wrath. + </p> + <p> + “Who's that?” he demanded of his son, “another d-d fool?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” replied young Tom, “it's Austen Vane.” + </p> + <p> + “What's he doin' here?” old Tom demanded, with a profane qualification as + to the region. But young Tom seemed to be the only being capable of + serenity amongst the flames that played around him. + </p> + <p> + “I sent for him because he's got more sense than Galusha and all the rest + of 'em put together,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “I guess that's so,” old Tom agreed unexpectedly, “but it ain't sayin' + much. Bring him in—bring him in, and lock the door.” + </p> + <p> + In obedience to these summons, and a pull from young Tom, Austen entered + and sat down. + </p> + <p> + “You've read the Pingsquit bill?” old Tom demanded. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Austen. + </p> + <p> + “Just because you won a suit against the Northeastern, and nearly killed a + man out West, Tom seems to think you can do anything. He wouldn't, give me + any peace until I let him send for you,” Mr. Gaylord remarked testily. + “Now you're down here, what have you got to propose?” + </p> + <p> + “I didn't come here to propose anything, Mr. Gaylord,” said Austen. + </p> + <p> + “What!” cried Mr. Gaylord, with one of his customary and forceful + exclamations. “What'd you come down for?” + </p> + <p> + “I've been asking myself that question ever since I came, Mr. Gaylord,” + said Austen, “and I haven't yet arrived at any conclusion.” + </p> + <p> + Young Tom looked at his friend and laughed, and Mr. Gaylord, who at first + gave every indication of being about to explode with anger, suddenly + emitted a dry cackle. + </p> + <p> + “You ain't a d-n fool, anyway,” he declared. + </p> + <p> + “I'm beginning to think I am,” said Austen. + </p> + <p> + “Then you've got sense enough to know it,” retorted old Tom. “Most of 'em + haven't.” And his glance, as it fell upon the younger man, was almost + approving. Young Tom's was distinctly so. + </p> + <p> + “I told you Austen was the only lawyer who'd talk common sense to you,” he + said. + </p> + <p> + “I haven't heard much of it yet,” said old Tom. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps I ought to tell you, Mr. Gaylord,” said Austen, smiling a little, + “that I didn't come down in any legal capacity. That's only one of Tom's + jokes.” + </p> + <p> + “Then what in h—l did you bring him in here for?” demanded old Tom + of his son. + </p> + <p> + “Just for a quiet little powwow,” said young Tom, “to make you laugh. He's + made you laugh before.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't want to laugh,” said old Tom, pettishly. Nevertheless, he seemed + to be visibly cooling. “If you ain't in here to make money,” he added to + Austen, “I don't care how long you stay.” + </p> + <p> + “Say, Austen,” said young Tom, “do you remember the time we covered the + old man with shavings at the mills in Avalon, and how he chased us with a + two-by-four scantling?” + </p> + <p> + “I'd made pulp out'n you if I'd got you,” remarked Mr. Gaylord, with a + reminiscent chuckle that was almost pleasant. “But you were always a + goldurned smart boy, Austen, and you've done well with them little suits.” + He gazed at Austen a moment with his small, filmy-blue eye. “I don't know + but what you might take hold here and make it hot for those d-d rascals in + the Northeastern, after all. You couldn't botch it worsen Hammer has, and + you might do some good. I said I'd make 'em dance, and by G-d, I'll do it, + if I have to pay that Teller Levering in New York, and it takes the rest + of my life. Look the situation over, and come back to-morrow and tell me + what you think of it.” + </p> + <p> + “I can tell you what I think of it now, Mr. Gaylord,” said Austen. + </p> + <p> + “What's that?” old Tom demanded sharply. + </p> + <p> + “That you'll never get the bill passed, this session or next, by + lobbying.” + </p> + <p> + For the moment the elder Mr. Gaylord was speechless, but young Tom Gaylord + clapped his hand heartily on his friend's shoulder. + </p> + <p> + “That's the reason I wanted to get you down here, Austen,” he cried; + “that's what I've been telling the old man all along—perhaps he'll + believe you.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you won't take hold?” said Mr. Gaylord, his voice trembling on the + edge of another spasm. “You refuse business?” + </p> + <p> + “I refuse that kind of business, Mr. Gaylord,” Austen answered quietly, + though there was a certain note in his voice that young Tom knew well, and + which actually averted the imminent explosion from Mr. Gaylord, whose eyes + glared and watered. “But aside from that, you must know that the + Republican party leaders in this State are the heads of the lobby of the + Northeastern Railroads.” + </p> + <p> + “I guess I know about Number Seven as well as you do,” old Tom + interjected. + </p> + <p> + Austen's eye flashed. + </p> + <p> + “Now hold on, father,” said young Tom, “that's no way to talk to Austen.” + </p> + <p> + “Knowing Number Seven,” Austen continued, “you probably realize that the + political and business future of nearly every one of the twenty State + senators depends upon the favour of the Northeastern Railroads.” + </p> + <p> + “I know that the d-d fools won't look at money,” said Mr. Gaylord; + “Hammer's tried 'em.” + </p> + <p> + “I told you that before you started in,” young Tom remarked, “but when you + get mad, you won't listen to sense. And then there's the Honourable Asa + Gray, who wants to represent the Northeastern some day in the United + States Senate.” + </p> + <p> + “The bill ought to pass,” shrieked old Tom; “it's a d-d outrage. There's + no reason why I shouldn't be allowed to build a railroad if I've got the + money to do it. What in blazes are we comin' to in this country if we + can't git competition? If Flint stops that bill, I'll buy a newspaper and + go to the people with the issue and throw his d-d monopoly into + bankruptcy.” + </p> + <p> + “It's all very well to talk about competition and monopolies and lobbies,” + said young Tom, “but how about the Gaylord Lumber Company? How about the + time you used the lobby, with Flint's permission? This kind of virtuous + talk is beautiful to listen to when you and Flint get into a row.” + </p> + <p> + At this remark of his son's, the intermittent geyser of old Tom's wrath + spouted up again with scalding steam, and in a manner utterly impossible + to reproduce upon paper. Young Tom waited patiently for the exhibition to + cease, which it did at length in a coughing fit of sheer exhaustion that + left his father speechless, if not expressionless, pointing a lean and + trembling finger in the direction of a valise on the floor. + </p> + <p> + “You'll go off in a spell of that kind some day,” said young Tom, opening + the valise and extracting a bottle. Uncorking it, he pressed it to his + father's lips, and with his own pocket-handkerchief (old Tom not + possessing such an article) wiped the perspiration from Mr. Gaylord's brow + and the drops from his shabby black coat. “There's no use gettin' mad at + Austen. He's dead right—you can't lobby this thing through, and you + knew it before you started. If you hadn't lost your temper, you wouldn't + have tried.” + </p> + <p> + “We'll see, by G-d, we'll see,” said the indomitable old Tom, when he got + his breath. “You young men think you know a sight, but you haven't got the + stuff in you we old Tellers have. Where would I be if it wasn't for + fightin'? You mark my words, before this session's ended I'll scare h-l + out of Flint—see if I don't.” + </p> + <p> + Young Tom winked at his friend. + </p> + <p> + “Let's go down to supper,” he said. + </p> + <p> + The dining room of the Pelican Hotel during a midweek of a busy session + was a scene of bustle and confusion not likely to be forgotten. Every seat + was taken, and gentlemen waited their turn in the marble-flagged rotunda + who had not the honour of being known to Mr. Giles, the head waiter. If + Mr. Hamilton Tooting were present, and recognized you, he would take great + pleasure in pointing out the celebrities, and especially that table over + which the Honourable Hilary Vane presided, with the pretty, red-checked + waitress hovering around it. At the Honourable Hilary's right hand was the + division superintendent, and at his left, Mr. Speaker Doby—a most + convenient and congenial arrangement; farther down the board were State + Senator Nat Billings, Mr. Ridout (when he did not sup at home), the + Honourables Brush Bascom and Elisha Jane, and the Honourable Jacob Botcher + made a proper ballast for the foot. This table was known as the Railroad + Table, and it was very difficult, at any distance away from it, to hear + what was said, except when the Honourable Jacob Botcher made a joke. Next + in importance and situation was the Governor's Table—now occupied by + the Honourable Asa Gray. Mr. Tooting's description would not have stopped + here. + </p> + <p> + Sensations are common in the Pelican Hotel, but when Austen Vane walked in + that evening between the Gaylords, father and son, many a hungry guest + laid down his knife and fork and stared. Was the younger Vane (known to be + anti-railroad) to take up the Gaylords' war against his own father? All + the indications were that way, and a rumour flew from table to + table-leaping space, as rumours will—that the Gaylords had sent to + Ripton for Austen. There was but one table in the room the occupants of + which appeared not to take any interest in the event, or even to grasp + that an event had occurred. The Railroad Table was oblivious. + </p> + <p> + After supper Mr. Tooting found Austen in the rotunda, and drew him + mysteriously aside. + </p> + <p> + “Say, Aust, the Honourable Hilary wants to see you to-night,” he + whispered. + </p> + <p> + “Did he send you with the message?” Austen demanded. + </p> + <p> + “That's right,” said Mr. Tooting. “I guess you know what's up.” + </p> + <p> + Austen did not answer. At the foot of the stairway was the tall form of + Hilary Vane himself, and Austen crossed the rotunda. + </p> + <p> + “Do you want to see me, Judge?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + The Honourable Hilary faced about quickly. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, if you've got any spare time.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll go to your room at half-past nine to-night, if that's convenient.” + </p> + <p> + “All right,” said the Honourable Hilary, starting up the stairs. + </p> + <p> + Austen turned, and found Mr. Hamilton Tooting at his elbow. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0012" id="link2HCH0012"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XII. Mr. REDBROOK'S PARTY + </h2> + <p> + The storm was over, and the bare trees, when the moon shone between the + hurrying clouds, cast lacelike shadows on the white velvet surface of the + snow as Austen forged his way up the hill to the Widow Peasley's in + keeping with his promise to Mr. Redbrook. Across the street he paused + outside the picket-fence to gaze at the yellow bars of light between the + slats of the windows of the Duncan house. It was hard to realize that she + was there, within a stone's throw of where he was to sleep; but the + strange, half-startled expression in her eyes that afternoon and the smile—which + had in it a curious quality he could not analyze—were so vivid in + his consciousness as to give him pain. The incident, as he stood there + ankle-deep in the snow, seemed to him another inexplicable and uselessly + cruel caprice of fate. + </p> + <p> + As he pictured her in the dining room behind Mr. Crewe's silver and cut + glass and flowers, it was undoubtedly natural that he should wonder + whether she were thinking of him in the Widow Peasley's lamp-lit cottage, + and he smiled at the contrast. After all, it was the contrast between his + life and hers. As an American of good antecedents and education, with a + Western experience thrown in, social gulfs, although awkward, might be + crossed in spite of opposition from ladies like the Rose of Sharon,—who + had crossed them. Nevertheless, the life which Victoria led seemingly + accentuated—to a man standing behind a picket-fence in the snow—the + voids between. + </p> + <p> + A stamping of feet in the Widow Peasley's vestibule awoke in him that + sense of the ridiculous which was never far from the surface, and he made + his way thither in mingled amusement and pain. What happened there is of + interest, but may be briefly chronicled. Austen was surprised, on + entering, to find Mrs. Peasley's parlour filled with men; and a single + glance at their faces in the lamplight assured him that they were of a + type which he understood—countrymen of that rugged New England stock + to which he himself belonged, whose sons for generations had made lawyers + and statesmen and soldiers for the State and nation. Some were talking in + low voices, and others sat silent on the chairs and sofa, not awkwardly or + uncomfortably, but with a characteristic self-possession and repose. Mr. + Redbrook, towering in front of the stove, came forward. + </p> + <p> + “Here you be,” he said, taking Austen's hand warmly and a little + ceremoniously; “I asked 'em here to meet ye.” + </p> + <p> + “To meet me!” Austen repeated. + </p> + <p> + “Wanted they should know you,” said Mr. Redbrook. + </p> + <p> + “They've all heard of you and what you did for Zeb.” + </p> + <p> + Austen flushed. He was aware that he was undergoing a cool and critical + examination by those present, and that they were men who used all their + faculties in making up their minds. + </p> + <p> + “I'm very glad to meet any friends of yours, Mr. Redbrook,” he said. “What + I did for Meader isn't worth mentioning. It was an absolutely simple + case.” + </p> + <p> + “Twahn't so much what ye did as how ye did it,” said Mr. Redbrook. “It's + kind of rare in these days,” he added, with the manner of commenting to + himself on the circumstance, “to find a young lawyer with brains that + won't sell 'em to the railrud. That's what appeals to me, and to some + other folks I know—especially when we take into account the + situation you was in and the chances you had.” + </p> + <p> + Austen's silence under this compliment seemed to create an indefinable + though favourable impression, and the member from Mercer permitted himself + to smile. + </p> + <p> + “These men are all friends of mine, and members of the House,” he said, + “and there's more would have come if they'd had a longer notice. Allow me + to make you acquainted with Mr. Widgeon of Hull.” + </p> + <p> + “We kind of wanted to look you over,” said Mr. Widgeon, suiting the action + to the word. “That's natural ain't it?” + </p> + <p> + “Kind of size you up,” added Mr. Jarley of Wye, raising his eyes. “Callate + you're sizable enough.” + </p> + <p> + “Wish you was in the House,” remarked Mr. Adams of Barren. “None of us is + much on talk, but if we had you, I guess we could lay things wide open.” + </p> + <p> + “If you was thar, and give it to 'em as hot as you did when you was + talkin' for Zeb, them skunks in the front seats wouldn't know whether they + was afoot or hossback,” declared Mr. Williams of Devon, a town adjoining + Mercer. + </p> + <p> + “I used to think railrud gov'ment wahn't so bad until I come to the House + this time,” remarked a stocky member from Oxford; “it's sheer waste of + money for the State to pay a Legislature. They might as well run things + from the New York office—you know that.” + </p> + <p> + “We might as well wear so many Northeastern uniforms with brass buttons,” + a sinewy hill farmer from Lee put in. He had a lean face that did not move + a muscle, but a humorous gray eye that twinkled. + </p> + <p> + In the meantime Mr. Redbrook looked on with an expression of approval + which was (to Austen) distinctly pleasant, but more or less mystifying. + </p> + <p> + “I guess you ain't disappointed 'em much,” he declared, when the round was + ended; “most of 'em knew me well enough to understand that cattle and live + stock in general, includin' humans, is about as I represent 'em to be.” + </p> + <p> + “We have some confidence in your judgment, Brother Redbrook,” answered Mr. + Terry of Lee, “and now we've looked over the goods, it ain't set back any, + I callate.” + </p> + <p> + This observation, which seemed to meet with a general assent, was to Austen + more mystifying than ever. He laughed. + </p> + <p> + “Gentlemen,” he said, “I feel as though some expression of thanks were due + you for this kind and most unexpected reception.” Here a sudden + seriousness came into his eyes which served, somehow, only to enhance his + charm of manner, and a certain determined ring into his voice. “You have + all referred to a condition of affairs,” he added, “about which I have + thought a great deal, and which I deplore as deeply as you do. There is no + doubt that the Northeastern Railroads have seized the government of this + State for three main reasons: to throttle competition; to control our + railroad commission in order that we may not get the service and safety to + which we are entitled,—so increasing dividends; and to make and + maintain laws which enable them to bribe with passes, to pay less taxes + than they should, and to manipulate political machinery.” + </p> + <p> + “That's right,” said Mr. Jarley of Wye, with a decided emphasis. + </p> + <p> + “That's the kind of talk I like to hear,” exclaimed Mr. Terry. + </p> + <p> + “And nobody's had the gumption to fight 'em,” said Mr. Widgeon. + </p> + <p> + “It looks,” said Austen, “as though it must come to a fight in the end. I + do not think they will listen to reason. I mean,” he added, with a flash + of humour, “that they will listen to it, but not act upon it. Gentlemen, I + regret to have to say, for obvious reasons, something which you all know, + that my father is at the head of the Northeastern machine, which is the + Republican party organization.” + </p> + <p> + There was a silence. + </p> + <p> + “You went again' him, and we honour you for it, Austen,” said Mr. + Redbrook, at length. + </p> + <p> + “I want to say,” Austen continued, “that I have tried to look at things as + Mr. Vane sees them, and that I have a good deal of sympathy for his point + of view. Conditions as they exist are the result of an evolution for which + no one man is responsible. That does not alter the fact that the + conditions are wrong. But the railroads, before they consolidated, found + the political boss in power, and had to pay him for favours. The citizen + was the culprit to start with, just as he is the culprit now, because he + does not take sufficient interest in his government to make it honest. We + mustn't blame the railroads too severely, when they grew strong enough, + for substituting their own political army to avoid being blackmailed. Long + immunity has reenforced them in the belief that they have but one duty to + pay dividends. I am afraid,” he added, “that they will have to be + enlightened somewhat as Pharaoh was enlightened.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, that's sense, too,” said Mr. Widgeon; “I guess you're the man to + enlighten 'em.” + </p> + <p> + “Moderate talk appeals to me,” declared Mr. Jarley. + </p> + <p> + “And when that fails,” said Mr. Terry, “hard, tellin' blows.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't lose track of the fact that we've got our eye on you,” said Mr. + Emerson of Oxford, who had a blacksmith's grip, and came back to renew it + after he had put on his overshoes. He was the last to linger, and when the + door had closed on him Austen turned to Mr. Redbrook. + </p> + <p> + “Now what does all this mean?” he demanded. + </p> + <p> + “It means,” said Mr. Redbrook, “that when the time comes, we want you to + run for governor.” + </p> + <p> + Austen went to the mantelpiece, and stood for a long time with his back + turned, staring at a crayon portrait of Colonel Peasley, in the uniform in + which he had fallen at the battle of Gettysburg. Then he swung about and + seized the member from Mercer by both broad shoulders. + </p> + <p> + “James Redbrook,” he said, “until to-night I thought you were about as + long-headed and sensible a man as there was in the State.” + </p> + <p> + “So I be,” replied Mr. Redbrook, with a grin. “You ask young Tom Gaylord.” + </p> + <p> + “So Tom put you up to this nonsense.” + </p> + <p> + “It ain't nonsense,” retorted Mr. Redbrook, stoutly, “and Tom didn't put + me up to it. It's the' best notion that ever came into my mind.” + </p> + <p> + Austen, still clinging to Mr. Redbrook's shoulders, shook his head slowly. + </p> + <p> + “James,” he said, “there are plenty of men who are better equipped than I + for the place, and in a better situation to undertake it. I—I'm much + obliged to you. But I'll help. I've got to go,” he added; “the Honourable + Hilary wants to see me.” + </p> + <p> + He went into the entry and put on his overshoes and his coat, while James + Redbrook regarded him with a curious mingling of pain and benevolence on + his rugged face. + </p> + <p> + “I won't press you now, Austen,” he said, “but think on it. For God's + sake, think on it.” + </p> + <p> + Outside, Austen paused in the snow once more, his brain awhirl with a + strange exaltation the like of which he had never felt before. Although + eminently human, it was not the fact that honest men had asked him to be + their governor which uplifted him,—but that they believed him to be + as honest as themselves. In that hour he had tasted life as he had never + yet tasted it, he had lived as he might never live again. Not one of them, + he remembered suddenly, had uttered a sentence of the political claptrap + of which he had heard so much. They had spoken from the soul; not + bitterly, not passionately, but their words had rung with the + determination which had made their forefathers and his leave home, toil, + and kindred to fight and die at Bunker Hill and Gettysburg for a + principle. It had bean given him to look that eight into the heart of a + nation, and he was awed. + </p> + <p> + As he stood there under the winter moon, he gradually became conscious of + music, of an air that seemed the very expression of his mood. His eyes, + irresistibly drawn towards the Duncan house, were caught by the fluttering + of lace curtains at an open window. The notes were those of a piano,—though + the instrument mattered little,—that with which they were charged + for him set the night wind quivering. It was not simple music, although it + had in it a grand simplicity. At times it rose, vibrant with inexpressible + feeling, and fell again into gentler, yearning cadences that wrung the + soul with a longing that was world-old and world-wide, that reached out + towards the unattainable stare—and, reaching, became immortal. Thus + was the end of it, fainting as it drifted heavenward. + </p> + <p> + Then the window was closed. + </p> + <p> + Austen walked on; whither, he knew not. After a certain time of which he + had no cognizance he found himself under the glaring arc-light that hung + over Main Street before the Pelican Hotel, in front of what was known as + the ladies' entrance. He slipped in there, avoiding the crowded lobby with + its shifting groups and its haze of smoke,—plainly to be seen behind + the great plates of glass,—went upstairs, and gained room Number. + Seven unnoticed. Then, after the briefest moment of hesitation, he + knocked. A voice responded—the Honourable Hilary's. There was but + one light burning in the room, and Mr. Vane sat in his accustomed chair in + the corner, alone. He was not reading, nor was he drowsing, but his head + was dropped forward a little on his breast. He raised it slowly at his + son's entrance, and regarded Austen fixedly, though silently. + </p> + <p> + “You wanted to see me, Judge?” said Austen. + </p> + <p> + “Come at last, have you?” said Mr. Vane. + </p> + <p> + “I didn't intend to be late,” said Austen. + </p> + <p> + “Seem to have a good deal of business on hand these days,” the Honourable + Hilary remarked. + </p> + <p> + Austen took a step forward, and stopped. Mr. Vane was preparing a piece of + Honey Dew. + </p> + <p> + “If you would like to know what the business was, Judge, I am here to tell + you.” + </p> + <p> + The Honourable Hilary grunted. + </p> + <p> + “I ain't good enough to be confided in, I guess,” he said; “I wouldn't + understand motives from principle.” + </p> + <p> + Austen looked at his father for a few moments in silence. To-night he + seemed at a greater distance than ever before, and more lonely than ever. + When Austen had entered the room and had seen him sitting with his head + bowed forward, the hostility of months of misunderstanding had fallen away + from the son, and he had longed to fly to him as he had as a child after + punishment. Differences in after life, alas, are not always to be bridged + thus. + </p> + <p> + “Judge,” he said slowly, with an attempt to control his voice, “wouldn't + it have been fairer to wait awhile, before you made a remark like that? + Whatever our dealings may have been, I have never lied to you. Anything + you may want to know, I am here to tell you.” + </p> + <p> + “So you're going to take up lobbying, are you? I had a notion you were + above lobbying.” + </p> + <p> + Austen was angered. But like all men of character, his face became stern + under provocation, and he spoke more deliberately. + </p> + <p> + “Before we go any farther,” he said, “would you mind telling me who your + informant is on this point?” + </p> + <p> + “I guess I don't need an informant. My eyesight is as good as ever,” said + the Honourable Hilary. + </p> + <p> + “Your deductions are usually more accurate. If any one has told you that I + am about to engage in lobbying, they have lied to you.” + </p> + <p> + “Wouldn't engage in lobbying, would you?” the Honourable Hilary asked, + with the air of making a casual inquiry. + </p> + <p> + Austen flushed, but kept his temper. + </p> + <p> + “I prefer the practice of law,” he replied. + </p> + <p> + “Saw you were associatin' with saints,” his father remarked. + </p> + <p> + Austen bit his lip, and then laughed outright,—the canonization of + old Tom Gaylord being too much for him. + </p> + <p> + “Now, Judge,” he said, “it isn't like you to draw hasty conclusions. + Because I sat down to supper with the Gaylords it isn't fair to infer that + they have retained me in a legislative case.” + </p> + <p> + The Honourable Hilary did not respond to his son's humour, but shifted the + Honey Dew to the left cheek. + </p> + <p> + “Old Tom going in for reform?” + </p> + <p> + “He may bring it about,” answered Austen, instantly becoming serious + again, “whether he's going in for it or not.” + </p> + <p> + For the first time the Honourable Hilary raised his eyes to his son's + face, and shot at him a penetrating look of characteristic shrewdness. But + he followed in conversation the same rule as in examining a witness, + rarely asking a direct question, except as a tactical surprise. + </p> + <p> + “Old Tom ought to have his railroad, oughtn't he?” + </p> + <p> + “So far as I can see, it would be a benefit to the people of that part of + the State,” said Austen. + </p> + <p> + “Building it for the people, is he?” + </p> + <p> + “His motive doesn't count. The bill should be judged on its merits, and + proper measures for the safeguarding of public interests should be put + into it.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't think the bill will be judged on its merits, do you?” + </p> + <p> + “No, I don't,” replied Austen, “and neither do you.” + </p> + <p> + “Did you tell old Tom so?” asked Mr. Vane, after a pause. “Did you tell + old Tom so when he sent for you to take hold?” + </p> + <p> + “He didn't send for me,” answered Austen, quietly, “and I have no business + dealings with him except small suits. What I did tell him was that he + would never get the bill through this session or next by lobbying.” + </p> + <p> + The Honourable Hilary never showed surprise. He emitted a grunt which + evinced at once impatience and amusement. + </p> + <p> + “Why not?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “Well, Judge, I'll tell you what I told him—although you both know. + It's because the Northeastern owns the Republican party machine, which is + the lobby, and because most of the twenty State senators are dependent + upon the Northeastern for future favours.” + </p> + <p> + “Did you tell Tom Gaylord that?” demanded Mr. Vane. “What did he say?” + </p> + <p> + Austen braced himself. He did not find the answer easy. + </p> + <p> + “He said he knew about Number Seven as well as I did.” + </p> + <p> + The Honourable Hilary rose abruptly—perhaps in some secret agitation—Austen + could not discern. His father walked as far as the door, and turned slowly + and faced him, but he did not speak. His mouth was tightly closed, almost + as in pain, and Austen went towards him, appealingly. + </p> + <p> + “Judge,” he said, “you sent for me. You have asked me questions which I + felt obliged in honesty to answer. God knows I don't wish to differ with + you, but circumstances seem always against us. I will talk plainly, if you + will let me. I try to look at things from your point of view. I know that + you believe that a political system should go hand in hand with the great + commercial system which you are engaged in building. I disagree with your + beliefs, but I do not think that your pursuit of them has not been + sincere, and justified by your conscience. I suppose that you sent for me + to know whether Mr. Gaylord has employed me to lobby for his bill. He has + not, because I refused that employment. But I will tell you that, in my + opinion, if a man of any ability whatever should get up on the floor of + the House and make an argument for the Pingsquit bill, the sentiment + against the Northeastern and its political power is so great that the + House would compel the committee to report the bill, and pass it. You + probably know this already, but I mention it for your own good if you do + not, in the hope that, through you, the Northeastern Railroads may be + induced to relax their grip upon the government of this State.” + </p> + <p> + The Honourable Hilary advanced, until only the marble-topped table was + between himself and his son. A slight noise in the adjoining room caused + him to turn his head momentarily. Then he faced Austen again. + </p> + <p> + “Did you tell Gaylord this?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + Austen made a gesture of distaste, and turned away. + </p> + <p> + “No,” he said, “I reserved the opinion, whatever it is worth, for your + ears alone.” + </p> + <p> + “I've heard that kind of calculation before,” said the Honourable Hilary. + “My experience is that they never come to much. As for this nonsense about + the Northeastern Railroads running things,” he added more vigorously, “I + guess when it's once in a man's head there's no getting it out. The + railroad employs the best lawyers it can find to look after its interests. + I'm one of 'em, and I'm proud of it. If I hadn't been one of 'em, the + chances are you'd never be where you are, that you'd never have gone to + college and the law school. The Republican party realizes that the + Northeastern is most vitally connected with the material interests of this + State; that the prosperity of the road means the prosperity of the State. + And the leaders of the party protect the road from vindictive assaults on + it like Gaylord's, and from scatterbrains and agitators like your friend + Redbrook.” + </p> + <p> + Austen shook his head sadly as he gazed at his father. He had always + recognized the futility of arguments, if argument on this point ever arose + between them. + </p> + <p> + “It's no use, Judge,” he said. “If material prosperity alone were to be + considered, your contention would have some weight. The perpetuation of + the principle of American government has to be thought of. Government by a + railroad will lead in the end to anarchy. You are courting destruction as + it is.” + </p> + <p> + “If you came in here to quote your confounded Emerson—” the + Honourable Hilary began, but Austen slipped around the table and took him + by the arm and led him perforce to his chair. + </p> + <p> + “No, Judge, that isn't Emerson,” he answered. “It's just common sense, + only it sounds to you like drivel. I'm going now,—unless you want to + hear some more about the plots I've been getting into. But I want to say + this. I ask you to remember that you're my father, and that—I'm fond + of you. And that, if you and I happen to be on opposite sides, it won't + make any difference as far as my feelings are concerned. I'm always ready + to tell you frankly what I'm doing, if you wish to know. Good-by. I + suppose I'll see you in Ripton at the end of the week.” And he pressed his + father's shoulder. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Vane looked up at his son with a curious expression. Perhaps (as when + Austen returned from the shooting of Mr. Blodgett in the West) there was a + smattering of admiration and pride in that look, and something of an + affection which had long ceased in its strivings for utterance. It was the + unconscious tribute, too,—slight as was its exhibition,—of the + man whose life has been spent in the conquest of material things to the + man who has the audacity, insensate though it seem, to fling these to the + winds in his search after ideals. + </p> + <p> + “Good-by, Austen,” said Mr. Vane. + </p> + <p> + Austen got as far as the door, cast another look back at his father,—who + was sitting motionless, with head bowed, as when he came,—and went + out. So Mr. Vane remained for a full minute after the door had closed, and + then he raised his head sharply and gave a piercing glance at the curtains + that separated Number Seven from the governor's room. In three strides he + had reached them, flung them open, and the folding doors behind them, + already parted by four inches. The gas was turned low, but under the + chandelier was the figure of a young man struggling with an overcoat. The + Honourable Hilary did not hesitate, but came forward with a swiftness that + paralyzed the young man, who turned upon him a face on which was meant to + be written surprise and a just indignation, but in reality was a mixture + of impudence and pallid fright. The Honourable Hilary, towering above him, + and with that grip on his arm, was a formidable person. + </p> + <p> + “Listening, were you, Ham?” he demanded. + </p> + <p> + “No,” cried Mr. Tooting, with a vehemence he meant for force. “No, I + wasn't. Listening to who?” + </p> + <p> + “Humph!” said the Honourable Hilary, still retaining with one hand the + grip on Mr. Tooting 's arm, and with the other turning up the gas until it + flared in Mr. Tooting's face. “What are you doing in the governor's room?” + </p> + <p> + “I left my overcoat in here this afternoon when you sent me to bring up + the senator.” + </p> + <p> + “Ham,” said Mr. Vane, “it isn't any use lying to me.” + </p> + <p> + “I ain't lying to you,” said Mr. Tooting, “I never did. I often lied for + you,” he added, “and you didn't raise any objections that I remember.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Vane let go of the arm contemptuously. + </p> + <p> + “I've done dirty work for the Northeastern for a good many years,” cried + Mr. Tooting, seemingly gaining confidence now that he was free; “I've + slaved for 'em, and what have they done for me? They wouldn't even back me + for county solicitor when I wanted the job.” + </p> + <p> + “Turned reformer, Ham?” + </p> + <p> + “I guess I've got as much right to turn reformer as some folks I know.” + </p> + <p> + “I guess you have,” agreed the Honourable Hilary; unexpectedly. He seated + himself on a chair, and proceeded to regard Mr. Tooting in a manner + extremely disconcerting to that gentleman. This quality of + impenetrability, of never being sure when he was angry, had baffled more + able opponents of Hilary Vane than Mr. Hamilton Tooting. + </p> + <p> + “Good-night, Ham.” + </p> + <p> + “I want to say—” Mr. Tooting began. + </p> + <p> + “Good-night, Ham,” said Mr. Vane, once more. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Tooting looked at him, slowly buttoned up his overcoat, and departed. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0013" id="link2HCH0013"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIII. THE REALM OF PEGASUS + </h2> + <p> + The eventful day of Mr. Humphrey Crewe's speech on national affairs dawned + without a cloud in the sky. The snow was of a dazzling whiteness and + sprinkled with diamond dust; and the air of such transcendent clearness + that Austen could see—by leaning a little out of the Widow Peasley's + window—the powdered top of Holdfast Mountain some thirty miles away. + For once, a glance at the mountain sufficed him; and he directed his gaze + through the trees at the Duncan house, engaging in a pleasant game of + conjecture as to which was her window. In such weather the heights of + Helicon seemed as attainable as the peak of Holdfast; and he had but to + beckon a shining Pegasus from out a sun-shaft in the sky. Obstacles were + mere specks on the snow. + </p> + <p> + He forgot to close the window, and dressed in a temperature which would + have meant, for many mortals, pneumonia. The events of yesterday; painful + and agitating as they had been, had fallen away in the prospect that lay + before him—he would see her to-day, and speak with her. These words, + like a refrain; were humming in his head as honest Mr. Redbrook talked + during breakfast, while Austen's answers may have been both intelligent + and humorous. Mr. Redbrook, at least; gave no sign that they were not. He + was aware that Mr. Redbrook was bringing arguments to bear on the matter + of the meeting of the evening before, but he fended these lightly, while + in spirit he flung a gem-studded bridle aver the neck of Pegasus. + </p> + <p> + And after breakfast—away from the haunts of men! Away from the + bickerings, the subjection of mean spirits; material loss and gain and + material passion! By eight o'clock (the Widow Peasley's household being an + early and orderly one) he was swinging across the long hills, cleaving for + himself a furrowed path in the untrodden snow, breathing deep as he gazed + across the blue spaces from the crests. Bellerophon or Perseus, aided by + immortals, felt no greater sense of achievements to come than he. Out + here, on the wind-swept hills that rolled onward and upward to the + mountains, the world was his. + </p> + <p> + With the same speed he returned, still by untrodden paths until he reached + the country road that ended in the city street. Some who saw him paused in + their steps, caught unconsciously by the rhythmic perfection of his + motion. Ahead of him he beheld the state-house, its dial aflame in the + light, emblematic to him of the presence within it of a spirit which + cleansed it of impurities. She would be there; nay, when he looked at the + dial from a different angle, was there. As he drew nearer, there rose out + of the void her presence beside him which he had daily tried to summon + since that autumn afternoon—her voice and her eyes, and many of the + infinite expressions of each and both. Sprites that they were, they had + failed him until to-day, when he was to see her again! + </p> + <p> + And then, somehow, he had threaded the groups beside the battle-flags in + the corridor, and mounted the stairway. The doorkeeper of the House looked + into his face, and, with that rare knowledge of mankind which doorkeepers + possess, let him in. There were many ladies on the floor (such being the + chivalrous custom when a debate or a speech of the importance of Mr. + Crewe's was going on), but Austen swept them with a glance of + disappointment. Was it possible, after all, that she had not come, or—more + agitating thought—had gone back to New York? + </p> + <p> + At this disturbing point in his reflections Austen became aware that the + hall was ringing with a loud and compelling voice which originated in + front of the Speaker's desk. + </p> + <p> + The Honourable Humphrey Crewe was delivering his long-heralded speech on + national affairs, and was arrayed for the occasion in a manner befitting + the American statesman, with the conventional frock coat, which he wore + unbuttoned. But the Gladstone collar and a tie gave the touch of + individuality to his dress which was needed to set him aside as a marked + man. Austen suddenly remembered, with an irresistible smile, that one of + the reasons which he had assigned for his visit to the capital was to hear + this very speech, to see how Mr. Crewe would carry off what appeared to be + a somewhat difficult situation. Whether or not this motive had drawn + others,—for the millionaire's speech had not lacked advertisement,—it + is impossible to say, but there was standing room only on the floor of the + House that day. + </p> + <p> + The fact that Mr. Crewe was gratified could not be wholly concealed. The + thing that fascinated Austen Vane and others who listened was the aplomb + with which the speech was delivered. The member from Leith showed no trace + of the nervousness naturally to be expected in a maiden effort, but spoke + with the deliberation of an old campaigner, of the man of weight and + influence that he was. He leaned, part of the time, with his elbow on the + clerk's desk, with his feet crossed; again, when he wished to emphasize a + point, he came forward and seized with both hands the back of his chair. + Sometimes he thrust his thumb in his waistcoat pocket, and turned with an + appeal to Mr. Speaker Doby, who was apparently too thrilled and surprised + to indulge in conversation with those on the bench beside him, and who + made no attempt to quell hand-clapping and even occasional whistling; + again, after the manner of experts, Mr. Crewe addressed himself forcibly + to an individual in the audience, usually a sensitive and responsive + person like the Honourable Jacob Botcher, who on such occasions assumed a + look of infinite wisdom and nodded his head slowly. There was no doubt + about it that the compelling personality of Mr. Humphrey Crewe was + creating a sensation. Genius is sure of itself, and statesmen are born, + not made. + </p> + <p> + Able and powerful as was Mr. Crewe's discourse, the man and not the words + had fastened the wandering attention of Austen Vane. He did not perceive + his friend of the evening before, Mr. Widgeon, coming towards him up the + side aisle, until he felt a touch on the arm. + </p> + <p> + “Take my seat. It ain't exactly a front one,” whispered the member from + Hull, “my wife's cousin's comin' on the noon train. Not a bad speech, is + it?” he added. “Acts like a veteran. I didn't callate he had it in him.” + </p> + <p> + Thus aroused, Austen made his way towards the vacant chair, and when he + was seated raised his eyes to the gallery rail, and Mr. Crewe, the + legislative chamber, and its audience ceased to exist. It is quite + impossible—unless one is a poetical genius—to reproduce on + paper that gone and sickly sensation which is, paradoxically, so + exquisite. The psychological cause of it in this instance was, primarily, + the sight, by Austen Vane, of his own violets on a black, tailor-made gown + trimmed with wide braid, and secondarily of an oval face framed in a black + hat, the subtle curves of which no living man could describe. The face was + turned in his direction, and he felt an additional thrill when he realized + that she must have been watching him as he came in, for she was leaning + forward with a gloved hand on the railing. + </p> + <p> + He performed that act of conventionality known as a bow, and she nodded + her head—black hat and all. The real salutation was a divine ray + which passed between their eyes—hers and his—over the + commonplace mortals between. And after that, although the patient + legislative clock in the corner which had marked the space of other great + events (such as the Woodchuck Session) continued to tick, undisturbed in + this instance by the pole of the sergeant-at-arms, time became a lost + dimension for Austen Vane. He made a few unimportant discoveries such as + the fact that Mrs. Pomfret and her daughter were seated beside Victoria, + listening with a rapt attention; and that Mr. Crewe had begun to read + statistics; and that some people were gaping and others leaving. He could + look up at the gallery without turning his head, and sometimes he caught + her momentary glance, and again, with her chin in her hand, she was + watching Mr. Crewe with a little smile creasing the corners of her eyes. + </p> + <p> + A horrible thought crossed Austen's mind—perhaps they were not his + violets after all! Because she had smiled at him, yesterday and to-day, he + had soared heavenwards on wings of his own making. Perhaps they were Mr. + Crewe's violets. Had she not come to visit Mr. Crewe, to listen to his + piece de resistance, without knowing that he, Austen Vane, would be in the + capital? The idea that her interest in Austen Vane was possibly connected + with the study of mankind had a sobering effect on him; and the notion + that she had another sort of interest in Mr. Crewe seemed ridiculous + enough, but disturbing, and supported by feats. + </p> + <p> + Austen had reached this phase in his reflections when he was aroused by a + metallic sound which arose above the resonant tones of the orator of the + day. A certain vessel, to the use of which, according to Mr. Dickens, the + satire male portion of the American nation was at one time addicted,—a + cuspidor, in plain language,—had been started, by some unknown + agency in the back seats, rolling down the centre aisle, and gathering + impetus as it went, bumped the louder on each successive step until it + hurled itself with a clash against the clerk's desk, at the feet of the + orator himself. During its descent a titter arose which gradually swelled + into a roar of laughter, and Austen's attention was once more focused upon + the member from Leith. But if any man had so misjudged the quality of + Humphrey Crewe as to suppose for an instant that he could be put out of + countenance by such a manoeuvre, that man was mightily mistaken. Mr. Crewe + paused, with his forefinger on the page, and fixed a glassy eye on the + remote neighbourhood in the back seats where the disturbance had started. + </p> + <p> + “I am much obliged to the gentleman,” he said coldly, “but he has sent me + an article which I never use, under any conditions. I would not deprive + him of its convenience.” + </p> + <p> + Whereupon, it is not too much to say, Mr. Crews was accorded an ovation, + led by his stanch friend and admirer, the Honourable Jacob Botcher, + although that worthy had been known to use the article in question. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Speaker Doby glanced at the faithful clock, and arose majestically. + </p> + <p> + “I regret to say,” he announced, “that the time of the gentleman from + Leith is up.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Botcher rose slowly to his feet. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Speaker,” he began, in a voice that rumbled through the crevices of + the gallery, “I move you, sir, that a vote of thanks be accorded to the + gentleman from Leith for his exceedingly able and instructive speech on + national affairs.” + </p> + <p> + “Second the motion,” said the Honourable Brush Bascom, instantly. + </p> + <p> + “And leave to print in the State Tribune!” cried a voice from somewhere + among the submerged four hundred and seventy. + </p> + <p> + “Gentlemen of the House,” said Mr. Crewe, when the laughter had subsided, + “I have given you a speech which is the result of much thought and + preparation on my part. I have not flaunted the star-spangled banner in + your faces, or indulged in oratorical fireworks. Mine have been the words + of a plain business man, and I have not indulged in wild accusations or + flights of imagination. Perhaps, if I had,” he added, “there are some who + would have been better pleased. I thank my friends for their kind + attention and approbation.” + </p> + <p> + Nevertheless, amidst somewhat of a pandemonium, the vote of thanks was + given and the House adjourned; while Mr. Crewe's friends of whom he had + spoken could be seen pressing around him and shaking him by the hand. + Austen got to his feet, his eyes again sought the gallery, whence he + believed he received a look of understanding from a face upon which + amusement seemed plainly written. She had turned to glance down at him, + despite the fact that Mrs. Pomfret was urging her to leave. Austen started + for the door, and managed to reach it long before his neighbours had left + the vicinity of their seats. Once in the corridor, his eye singled her out + amongst those descending the gallery stairs, and he had a little thrill of + pride and despair when he realized that she was the object of the + scrutiny, too, of the men around him; the women were interested, likewise, + in Mrs. Pomfret, whose appearance, although appropriate enough for a New + York matinee, proclaimed her as hailing from that mysterious and fabulous + city of wealth. This lady, with her lorgnette, was examining the faces + about her in undisguised curiosity, and at the same time talking to + Victoria in a voice which she took no pains to lower. + </p> + <p> + “I think it outrageous,” she was saying. “If some Radical member had done + that in Parliament, he would have been expelled from the House. But of + course in Parliament they wouldn't have those horrid things to roll down + the aisles. Poor dear Humphrey! The career of a gentleman in politics is a + thankless one in this country. I wonder at his fortitude.” + </p> + <p> + Victoria's eyes alone betokened her amusement. + </p> + <p> + “How do you do, Mr. Vane?” she said. “I'm so glad to see you again.” + </p> + <p> + Austen said something which he felt was entirely commonplace and + inadequate to express his own sentiments, while Alice gave him an + uncertain bow, and Mrs. Pomfret turned her glasses upon him. + </p> + <p> + “You remember Mr. Vane,” said Victoria; “you met him at Humphrey's.” + </p> + <p> + “Did I?” answered Mrs. Pomfret. “How do you do? Can't something be done to + punish those rowdies?” + </p> + <p> + Austen grew red. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Vane isn't a member of the House,” said Victoria. + </p> + <p> + “Oh,” exclaimed Mrs. Pomfret. “Something ought to be done about it. In + England such a thing wouldn't be allowed to drop for a minute. If I lived + in this State, I think I should do something. Nobody in America seems to + have the spirit even to make a protest.” + </p> + <p> + Austen turned quietly to Victoria. + </p> + <p> + “When are you going away?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “To-morrow morning—earlier than I like to think of. I have to be in + New York by to-morrow night.” + </p> + <p> + She flashed at him a look of approbation for his self-control, and then, + by a swift transition which he had often remarked, her expression changed + to one of amusement, although a seriousness lurked in the depths of her + eyes. Mrs. Pomfret had gone on, with Alice, and they followed. + </p> + <p> + “And—am I not to see you again before you go?” he exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + He didn't stop to reason than upon the probable consequences of his act in + seeking her. Nature, which is stronger than reason, was compelling him. + </p> + <p> + “That depends,” said Victoria. + </p> + <p> + “Upon whom?” + </p> + <p> + “Upon you.” + </p> + <p> + They were on the lower stairs by this times, and there was silence between + then for a few moments as they descended,—principally because, after + this exalting remark, Austen could not trust himself to speak. + </p> + <p> + “Will you go driving with me?” he asked, and was immediately thunderstruck + at his boldness. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” she answered, simply. + </p> + <p> + “How soon may I come?” he demanded. + </p> + <p> + She laughed softly, but with a joyous note which was not hidden from him + as they stepped out of the darkened corridor into the dazzling winter + noonday. + </p> + <p> + “I will be ready at three o'clock,” she said. + </p> + <p> + He looked at his watch. + </p> + <p> + “Two hours and a half!” he cried. + </p> + <p> + “If that is too early,” she said mischievously, “we can go later.” + </p> + <p> + “Too early!” he repeated. But the rest of his protest was cut short by Mr. + Crewe. + </p> + <p> + “Hello, Victoria, what did you think of my speech?” + </p> + <p> + “The destinies of the nation are settled,” said Victoria. “Do you know Mr. + Vane?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes, how are you?” said Mr. Crewe; “glad to see you,” and he extended + a furred glove. “Were you there?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Austen. + </p> + <p> + “I'll send you a copy. I'd like to talk it over with you. Come on, + Victoria, I've arranged for an early lunch. Come on, Mrs. Pomfret—get + in, Alice.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Pomfret, still protesting against the profane interruption to Mr. + Crewe's speech, bent her head to enter Mr. Crewe's booby sleigh, which had + his crest on the panel. Alice was hustled in next, but Victoria avoided + his ready assistance and got in herself, Mr. Crewe getting in beside her. + </p> + <p> + “Au revoir,” she called out to Austen, as the door slammed. The coachman + gathered his horses together, and off they went at a brisk trot. Then the + little group which had been watching the performance dispersed. Halfway + across the park Austen perceived some one signaling violently to him, and + discovered his friend, young Tom Gaylord. + </p> + <p> + “Come to dinner with me,” said young Tom, “and tell me whether the speech + of your friend from Leith will send him to Congress. I saw you hobnobbing + with him just now. What's the matter, Austen? I haven't seen that guilty + expression on your face since we were at college together.” + </p> + <p> + “What's the best livery-stable in town?” Austen asked. + </p> + <p> + “By George, I wondered why you came down here. Who are you going to take + out in a sleigh? There's a girl in it, is there?” + </p> + <p> + “Not yet, Tom,” said Austen. + </p> + <p> + “I've often asked myself why I ever had any use for such a secretive cuss + as you,” declared young Mr. Gaylord. “But if you're really goin' to get + interested in girls, you ought to see old Flint's daughter. I wrote you + about her. Why,” exclaimed Tom, “wasn't she one of those that got into + Crewe's sleigh?” + </p> + <p> + “Tom,” said Austen, “where did you say that livery-stable was?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, dang the livery-stable!” answered Mr. Gaylord. “I hear there's quite + a sentiment for you for governor. How about it? You know I've always said + you could be United States senator and President. If you'll only say the + word, Austen, we'll work up a movement around the State that'll be hard to + beat.” + </p> + <p> + “Tom,” said Austen, laying his hand on young Mr. Gaylord's farther + shoulder, “you're a pretty good fellow. Where did you say that + livery-stable was? + </p> + <p> + “I'll go sleigh-riding with you,” said Mr. Gaylord. “I guess the Pingsquit + bill can rest one afternoon.” + </p> + <p> + “Tom, I don't know any man I'd rather take than you,” said Austen. + </p> + <p> + The unsuspecting Tom was too good-natured to be offended, and shortly + after dinner Austen found himself in the process of being looked over by a + stout gentleman named Putter, proprietor of Putter's Livery, who claimed + to be a judge of men as well as horses. Austen had been through his stalls + and chosen a mare. + </p> + <p> + “Durned if you don't look like a man who can handle a horse,” said Mr. + Putter. “And as long as you're a friend of Tom Gaylord's I'll let you have + her. Nobody drives that mare but me. What's your name?” + </p> + <p> + “Vane.” + </p> + <p> + “Ain't any relation to old Hilary, be you?” + </p> + <p> + “I'm his son,” said Austen, “only he doesn't boast about it.” + </p> + <p> + “Godfrey!” exclaimed Mr. Putter, with a broad grin, “I guess you kin have + her. Ain't you the man that shot a feller out West? Seems to me I heerd + somethin' about it.” + </p> + <p> + “Which one did you hear about?” Austen asked. + </p> + <p> + “Good Lord!” said Mr. Putter, “you didn't shoot more'n one, did you?” + </p> + <p> + It was just three o'clock when Austen drove into the semicircle opposite + the Widow Peasley's, rang Mr. Crewe's door-bell, and leaped into the + sleigh once more, the mare's nature being such as to make it undesirable + to leave her. Presently Mr. Crewe's butler appeared, and stood dubiously + in the vestibule. + </p> + <p> + “Will you tell Miss Flint that Mr. Vane has called for her, and that I + cannot leave the horse?” + </p> + <p> + The man retired with obvious disapproval. Then Austen heard Victoria's + voice in the hallway:—“Don't make a goose of yourself, Humphrey.” + Here she appeared, the colour fresh in her cheeks, her slender figure clad + in a fur which even Austen knew was priceless. She sprang into the sleigh, + the butler, with annoying deliberation, and with the air of saying that + this was an affair of which he washed his hands, tucked in Mr. Putter's + best robe about her feet, the mare leaped forward, and they were off, out + of the circle and flying up the hill on the hard snow-tracks. + </p> + <p> + “Whew!” exclaimed Victoria, “what a relief! Are you staying in that dear + little house?” she asked, with a glance at the Widow Peasley's. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Austen. + </p> + <p> + “I wish I were.” + </p> + <p> + He looked at her shyly. He was not a man to do homage to material gods, + but the pomp and circumstance with which she was surrounded had had a + sobering effect upon him, and added to his sense of the instability and + unreality of the present moment. He had an almost guilty feeling of having + broken an unwritten law, of abducting a princess, and the old Duncan house + had seemed to frown protestingly that such an act should have taken place + under its windows. If Victoria had been—to him—an ordinary + mortal in expensive furs instead of a princess, he would have snapped his + fingers at the pomp and circumstance. These typified the comforts which, + in a wild and forgetful moment, he might ask her to leave. Not that he + believed she would leave them. He had lived long enough to know that an + interest by a woman in a man—especially a man beyond the beaten + track of her observation—did not necessarily mean that she might + marry him if he asked her. And yet—oh, Tantalus! here she was beside + him, for one afternoon again his very own, their two souls ringing with + the harmony of whirling worlds in sunlit space. He sought refuge in thin + thought; he strove, in oblivion, to drain the cup of the hour of its + nectar, even as he had done before. Generations of Puritan Vanes (whose + descendant alone had harassed poor Sarah Austere) were in his blood; and + there they hung in the long gallery of Time, mutely but sternly forbidding + when he raised his hand to the stem. + </p> + <p> + In silence they reached the crest where the little city ended abruptly in + view of the paradise of the silent hills,—his paradise, where there + were no palaces or thought of palaces. The wild wind of the morning was + still. In this realm at least, a heritage from his mother, seemingly + untrodden by the foot of man, the woman at his side was his. From Holdfast + over the spruces to Sawanec in the blue distance he was lord, a domain the + wealth of which could not be reckoned in the coin of Midas. He turned to + her as they flew down the slope, and she averted her face, perchance + perceiving in that look a possession from which a woman shrinks; and her + remark, startlingly indicative of the accord between them, lent a no less + startling reality to the enchantment. + </p> + <p> + “This is your land, isn't it?” she said. + </p> + <p> + “I sometimes feel as though it were,” he answered. “I was out here this + morning, when the wind was at play,” and he pointed with his whip at a + fantastic snowdrift, “before I saw you.” + </p> + <p> + “You looked as though you had come from it,” she answered. “You seemed—I + suppose you will think me silly—but you seemed to bring something of + this with you into that hail. I always think of you as out on the hills + and mountains.” + </p> + <p> + “And you,” he said, “belong here, too.” + </p> + <p> + She drew a deep breath. + </p> + <p> + “I wish I did. But you—you really do belong here. You seem to have + absorbed all the clearness of it, and the strength and vigour. I was + watching you this morning, and you were so utterly out of place in those + surroundings.” Victoria paused, her colour deepening. + </p> + <p> + His blood kept pace with the mare's footsteps, but he did not reply. + </p> + <p> + “What did you think of Humphrey's speech?” she asked, abruptly changing + the subject. + </p> + <p> + “I thought it a surprisingly good one,—what I heard of it,” he + answered. “That wasn't much. I didn't think he'd do as well.” + </p> + <p> + “Humphrey's clever in a great many ways,” Victoria agreed. “If he didn't + have such an impenetrable conceit, he might go far, because he learns + quickly, and has an industry that is simply appalling. But he hasn't quite + the manner for politics, has he?” + </p> + <p> + “I think I should call his manner a drawback,” said Austen, “though not by + any means an insurmountable one.” + </p> + <p> + Victoria laughed. + </p> + <p> + “The other qualities all need to be very great,” she said. “He was furious + at me for coming out this afternoon. He had it all arranged to drive over + to the Forge, and had an early lunch.” + </p> + <p> + “And I,” said Austen, “have all the more reason to be grateful to you.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, if you knew the favour you were doing me,” she cried, “bringing me + out here where I can breathe. I hope you don't think I dislike Humphrey,” + she went on. “Of course, if I did, I shouldn't visit him. You see, I have + known him for so long.” + </p> + <p> + “I hadn't a notion that you disliked him,” said Austen. “I am curious + about his career; that's one reason I came down. He somehow inspires + curiosity.” + </p> + <p> + “And awe,” she added. “Humphrey's career has all the fascination of a + runaway locomotive. One watches it transfixed, awaiting the inevitable + crash.” + </p> + <p> + Their eyes met, and they both laughed. + </p> + <p> + “It's no use trying to be a humbug,” said Victoria, “I can't. And I do + like Humphrey, in spite of his career.” + </p> + <p> + And they laughed again. The music of the bells ran faster and faster + still, keeping time to a wilder music of the sunlit hills and sky; nor was + it strange that her voice, when she spoke, did not break the spell, but + laid upon him a deeper sense of magic. + </p> + <p> + “This brings back the fairy books,” she said, “and all those wonderful and + never-to-be-forgotten sensations of the truant, doesn't it? You've been a + truant—haven't you?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” he laughed, “I've been a truant, but I never quite realized the + possibilities of the part—until to-day.” + </p> + <p> + She was silent a moment, and turned away her head, surveying the landscape + that fell away for miles beyond. + </p> + <p> + “When I was a child,” she said, “I used to think that by opening a door I + could step into an enchanted realm like this. Only I could never find the + door. Perhaps,” she added, gayly pursuing the conceit, “it was because you + had the key, and I didn't know you in those days.” She gave him a swift, + searching look, smiling, whimsical yet startled,—so elusive that the + memory of it afterwards was wont to come and go like a flash of light. + “Who are you?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + His blood leaped, but he smiled in delighted understanding of her mood. + Sarah Austen had brought just such a magic touch to an excursion, and even + at that moment Austen found himself marvelling a little at the strange + resemblance between the two. + </p> + <p> + “I am a plain person whose ancestors came from a village called Camden + Street,” he replied. “Camden Street is there, on a shelf of the hills, and + through the arch of its elms you can look off over the forests of the + lowlands until they end in the blue reaches of the ocean,—if you + could see far enough.” + </p> + <p> + “If you could see far enough,” said Victoria, unconsciously repeating his + words. “But that doesn't explain you,” she exclaimed: “You are like nobody + I ever met, and you have a supernatural faculty of appearing suddenly, + from nowhere, and whisking me away like the lady in the fable, out of + myself and the world I live in. If I become so inordinately grateful as to + talk nonsense, you mustn't blame me. Try not to think of the number of + times I've seen you, or when it was we first met.” + </p> + <p> + “I believe,” said Austen, gravely, “it was when a mammoth beast had his + cave on Holdfast, and the valleys were covered with cocoanut-palms.” + </p> + <p> + “And you appeared suddenly then, too, and rescued me. You have always been + uniformly kind,” she said, “but—a little intangible.” + </p> + <p> + “A myth,” he suggested, “with neither height, breadth, nor thickness.” + </p> + <p> + “You have height and breadth,” she answered, measuring him swiftly with + her eye; “I am not sure about the thickness. Perhaps. What I mean to say + is, that you seem to be a person in the world, but not of it. Your exits + and entrances are too mysterious, and then you carry me out of it,—although + I invite myself, which is not at all proper.” + </p> + <p> + “I came down here to see you,” he said, and took a firmer grip on the + reins. “I exist to that extent.” + </p> + <p> + “That's unworthy of you,” she cried. “I don't believe you—would have + known I was here unless you had caught eight of me.” + </p> + <p> + “I should have known it,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “How?” + </p> + <p> + “Because I heard you playing. I am sure it was you playing.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, it was I,” she answered simply, “but I did not know that—you + heard. Where were you? + </p> + <p> + “I suppose,” he replied, “a sane witness would have testified that I was + in the street—one of those partial and material truths which are so + misleading.” + </p> + <p> + She laughed again, joyously. + </p> + <p> + “Seriously, why did you come down here?” she insisted. “I am not so + absorbed in Humphrey's career that I cannot take an interest in yours. In + fact, yours interests me more, because it is more mysterious. Humphrey's,” + she added, laughing, “is charted from day to day, and announced in + bulletins. He is more generous to his friends than—you.” + </p> + <p> + “I have nothing to chart,” said Austen, “except such pilgrimages as this,—and + these, after all, are unchartable. Your friend, Mr. Crewe, on the other + hand, is well away on his voyage after the Golden Fleece. I hope he is + provided with a Lynceus.” + </p> + <p> + She was silent for a long time, but he was feverishly conscious of her + gaze upon him, and did not dare to turn his eyes to hers. The look in them + he beheld without the aid of physical vision, and in that look was the + world-old riddle of her sex typified in the image on the African desert, + which Napoleon had tried to read, and failed. And while wisdom was in the + look, there was in it likewise the eternal questioning of a fate quite as + inscrutable, against which wisdom would avail nothing. It was that look + which, for Austen, revealed in her in their infinite variety all women who + had lived; those who could resist, and those who could yield, and yielding + all, bestow a gift which left them still priceless; those to whom sorrow + might bring sadness, and knowledge mourning, and yet could rob them of no + jot of sweetness. And knowing this, he knew that to gain her now (could + such a high prize be gained!) would be to lose her. If he were anything to + her (realize it or not as she might), it was because he found strength to + resist this greatest temptation of his life. Yield, and his guerdon was + lost, and he would be Austen Vane no longer—yield, and his right to + act, which would make him of value in her eyes as well as in his own, was + gone forever. + </p> + <p> + Well he knew what the question in her eyes meant or something of what it + meant, so inexplicably is the soul of woman linked to events. He had + pondered often on that which she had asked him when he had brought her + home over the hills in the autumn twilight. He remembered her words, and + the very inflection of her voice. “Then you won't tell me?” How could he + tell her? He became aware that she was speaking now, in an even tone. + </p> + <p> + “I had an odd experience this morning, when I was waiting for Mrs. Pomfret + outside the state-house,” she said. “A man was standing looking up at the + statue of the patriot with a strange, rapt expression on his face,—such + a good face,—and he was so big and honest and uncompromising I + wanted to talk to him. I didn't realize that I was staring at him so hard, + because I was trying to remember where I had seen him before,—and + then I remembered suddenly that it was with you.” + </p> + <p> + “With me?” Austen repeated. + </p> + <p> + “You were standing with him, in front of the little house, when I save you + yesterday. His name was Redbrook. It appears that he had seen me,” + Victoria replied, “when I went to Mercer to call on Zeb Meader. And he + asked me if I knew you.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course you denied it,” said Austen. + </p> + <p> + “I couldn't, very well,” laughed Victoria, “because you had confessed to + the acquaintance first.” + </p> + <p> + “He merely wished to have the fact corroborated. Mr. Redbrook is a man who + likes to be sure of his ground.” + </p> + <p> + “He told me a very interesting thing about you,” she continued slowly, + with her eye upon. Austen's profile. “He said that a great many men wanted + you to be their candidate for governor of the State,—more than you + had any idea of,—and that you wouldn't consent. Mr. Redbrook grew so + enthusiastic that he forgot, for the moment, my—relationship to the + railroad. He is not the only person with whom I have talked who has—forgotten + it, or hasn't known of it.” + </p> + <p> + Austen was silent. + </p> + <p> + “Why won't you be a candidate,” she asked, in a low voice, “if such men as + that want you?” + </p> + <p> + “I am afraid Mr. Redbrook exaggerates,” he said. “The popular demand of + which he spoke is rather mythical. And I should be inclined to accuse him, + too, of a friendly attempt to install me in your good graces.” + </p> + <p> + “No,” answered Victoria, smiling, with serious eyes, “I won't be put off + that way. Mr. Redbrook isn't the kind of man that exaggerates—I've + seen enough of his type to know that. And he told me about your—reception + last night at the Widow Peasley's. You wouldn't have told me,” she added + reproachfully. + </p> + <p> + He laughed. + </p> + <p> + “It was scarcely a subject I could have ventured,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “But I asked you,” she objected. “Now tell me, why did you refuse to be + their candidate? It wasn't because you were not likely to get elected, was + it?” + </p> + <p> + He permitted himself a glance which was a tribute of admiration—a + glance which she returned steadfastly. + </p> + <p> + “It isn't likely that I should have been elected,” he answered, “but you + are right—that is not the reason I refused.” + </p> + <p> + “I thought not,” she said, “I did not believe you were the kind of man to + refuse for that reason. And you would have been elected.” + </p> + <p> + “What makes you think so?” he asked curiously. + </p> + <p> + “I have been thinking since I saw you last—yes, and I have been + making inquiries. I have been trying to find out things—which you + will not tell me.” She paused, with a little catch of her breath, and went + on again. “Do you believe I came all the way up here just to hear Humphrey + Crewe make a speech and to drive with him in a high sleigh and listen to + him talk about his career? When serious men of the people like Mr. + Redbrook and that nice Mr. Jenney at Leith and a lot of others who do not + ordinarily care for politics are thinking and indignant, I have come to + the conclusion there must be a cause for it. They say that the railroad + governs them through disreputable politicians,—and I—I am + beginning to believe it is true. I have had some of the politicians + pointed out to me in the Legislature, and they look like it.” + </p> + <p> + Austen did not smile. She was speaking quietly, but he saw that she was + breathing deeply, and he knew that she possessed a courage which went far + beyond that of most women, and an insight into life and affairs. + </p> + <p> + “I am going to find out,” she said, “whether these things are true.” + </p> + <p> + “And then?” he asked involuntarily. + </p> + <p> + “If they are true, I am going to tell my father about them, and ask him to + investigate. Nobody seems to have the courage to go to him.” + </p> + <p> + Austen did not answer. He felt the implication; he knew that, without + realizing his difficulties, and carried on by a feeling long pent up, she + had measured him unjustly, and yet he felt no resentment, and no shock. + Perhaps he might feel that later. Now he was filled only with a sympathy + that was yet another common bond between them. Suppose she did find out? + He knew that she would not falter until she came to the end of her + investigation, to the revelation of Mr. Flint's code of business ethics. + Should the revolt take place, she would be satisfied with nothing less + than the truth, even as he, Austen Vane, had not been satisfied. And he + thought of the life-long faith that would be broken thereby. + </p> + <p> + They had made the circle of the hills, and the sparkling lights of the + city lay under them like blue diamond points in the twilight of the + valley. The crests behind them deepened in purple as the saffron faded in + the west, and a gossamer cloud of Tyrian dye floated over Holdfast. In + silence they turned for a last lingering look, and in silence went down + the slope into the world again, and through the streets to the driveway of + the Duncan house. It was only when they had stopped before the door that + she trusted herself to speak. + </p> + <p> + “I ought not to have said what I did,” she began, in a low voice; “I + didn't realize—but I cannot understand you.” + </p> + <p> + “You have said nothing which you need ever have cause to regret,” he + replied. He was too great for excuses, too great for any sorrow save what + she herself might feel, as great as the silent hills from which he came. + </p> + <p> + She stood for a moment on the edge of the steps, her eyes lustrous,—yet + gazing into his with a searching, troubled look that haunted him for many + days. But her self-command was unshaken, her power to control speech was + the equal of his. And this power of silence in her revealed in such + instants—was her greatest fascination for Austen, the thing which + set her apart among women; which embodied for him the whole charm and + mystery of her sex. + </p> + <p> + “Good-by,” she said simply. + </p> + <p> + “Good-by,” he said, and seized her hand—and drove away. + </p> + <p> + Without ringing the bell Victoria slipped into the hall,—for the + latch was not caught,—and her first impulse was to run up the + staircase to her room. But she heard Mrs. Pomfret's voice on the landing + above and fled, as to a refuge, into the dark drawing-room, where she + stood for a moment motionless, listening for the sound of his sleigh-bells + as they fainted on the winter's night. Then she seated herself to think, + if she could, though it is difficult to think when one's heart is beating + a little wildly. It was Victoria's nature to think things out. For the + first time in her life she knew sorrow, and it made it worse that that + sorrow was indefinable. She felt an accountable attraction for this man + who had so strangely come into her life, whose problems had suddenly + become her problems. But she did not connect the attraction for Austen + Vane with her misery. She recalled him as he had left her, big and strong + and sorrowful, with a yearning look that was undisguised, and while her + faith in him came surging back again, she could not understand. + </p> + <p> + Gradually she became aware of men's voices, and turned with a start to + perceive that the door of the library was open, and that Humphrey Crewe + and another were standing in the doorway against the light. With an effort + of memory she identified the other man as the Mr. Tooting who had made + himself so useful at Mr. Crewe's garden party. + </p> + <p> + “I told you I could make you governor, Mr. Crewe,” Mr. Tooting was saying. + “Say, why do you think the Northeastern crowd—why do you think + Hilary Vane is pushing your bills down the sidings? I'll tell you, because + they know you're a man of ability, and they're afraid of you, and they + know you're a gentleman, and can't be trusted with their deals, so they + just shunted you off at Kodunk with a jolly about sendin' you to Congress + if you made a hit on a national speech. I've been in the business a good + many years, and I've seen and done some things for the Northeastern that + stick in my throat”—(at this point Victoria sat down again and + gripped the arms of her chair), “I don't like to see a decent man + sawbucked the way they're teeterin' you, Mr. Crewe. I know what I'm + talkin' about, and I tell you that Ridout and Jake Botcher and Brush + Bascom haven't any more notion of lettin' your bills out of committee than + they have Gaylord's. Why? Because they've got orders not to.” + </p> + <p> + “You're making some serious charges, Mr. Tooting,” said Mr. Crewe. + </p> + <p> + “And what's more, I can prove 'em. You know yourself that anybody who + talks against the Northeastern is booted down and blacklisted. You've seen + that, haven't you?” + </p> + <p> + “I have observed,” said Mr. Crewe, “that things do not seem to be as they + should in a free government.” + </p> + <p> + “And it makes your blood boil as an American citizen, don't it? It does + mine,” said Mr. Tooting, with fine indignation. “I was a poor boy, and had + to earn my living, but I've made up my mind I've worn the collar long + enough—if I have to break rocks. And I want to repeat what I said a + little while ago,” he added, weaving his thumb into Mr. Crewe's + buttonhole; “I know a thing or two, and I've got some brains, as they + know, and I can make you governor of this State if you'll only say the + word. It's a cinch.” + </p> + <p> + Victoria started to rise once more, and realized that to escape she would + have to cross the room directly in front of the two men. She remained + sitting where she was in a fearful fascination, awaiting Humphrey Crewe's + answer. There was a moment's pause. + </p> + <p> + “I believe you made the remark, Mr. Tooting,” he said, “that in your + opinion there is enough anti-railroad sentiment in the House to pass any + bill which the railroad opposes.” + </p> + <p> + “If a leader was to get up there, like you, with the arguments I could put + into his hands, they would make the committee discharge that Pingsquit + bill of the Gaylords', and pass it.” + </p> + <p> + “On what do you base your opinion?” asked Mr. Crewe. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said Mr. Tooting, “I guess I'm a pretty shrewd observer and have + had practice enough. But you know Austen Vane, don't you?” + </p> + <p> + Victoria held her breath. + </p> + <p> + “I've a slight acquaintance with him,” replied Mr. Crewe; “I've helped him + along in one or two minor legal matters. He seems to be a little—well, + pushing, you might say.” + </p> + <p> + “I want to tell you one thing about Austen,” continued Mr. Tooting. + “Although I don't stand much for old Hilary, I'd take Austen Vane's + opinion on most things as soon as that of any man in the State. If he only + had some sense about himself, he could be governor next time—there's + a whole lot that wants him. I happen to know some of 'em offered it to him + last night.” + </p> + <p> + “Austen Vane governor!” exclaimed Mr. Crewe, with a politely deprecating + laugh. + </p> + <p> + “It may sound funny,” said Mr. Tooting, stoutly; “I never understood what + he has about him. He's never done anything but buck old Hilary in that + damage case and send back a retainer pass to old Flint, but he's got + something in his make-up that gets under your belt, and a good many of + these old hayseeds'll eat out of his hand, right now. Well, I don't want + this to go any farther, you're a gentleman,—but Austen came down + here yesterday and had the whole thing sized up by last night. Old Hilary + thought the Gaylords sent for him to lobby their bill through. They may + have sent for him, all right, but he wouldn't lobby for 'em. He could have + made a pile of money out of 'em. Austen doesn't seem to care about money—he's + queer. He says as long as he has a horse and a few books and a couple of + sandwiches a day he's all right. Hilary had him up in Number Seven tryin' + to find out what he came down for, and Austen told him pretty straight—what + he didn't tell the Gaylords, either. He kind of likes old Hilary,—because + he's his father, I guess,—and he said there were enough men in that + House to turn Hilary and his crowd upside down. That's how I know for + certain. If Austen Vane said it, I'll borrow money to bet on it,” declared + Mr. Tooting. + </p> + <p> + “You don't think young Vane is going to get into the race?” queried Mr. + Crewe. + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Mr. Tooting, somewhat contemptuously. “No, I tell you he hasn't + got that kind of sense. He never took any trouble to get ahead, and I + guess he's sort of sensitive about old Hilary. It'd make a good deal of a + scandal in the family, with Austen as an anti-railroad candidate.” Mr. + Tooting lowered his voice to a tone that was caressingly confidential. “I + tell you, and you sleep on it, a man of your brains and money can't lose. + It's a chance in a million, and when you win you've got this little State + tight in your pocket, and a desk in the millionaire's club at Washington. + Well, so long,” said Mr. Tooting, “you think that over.” + </p> + <p> + “You have, at least, put things in a new and interesting light,” said Mr. + Crewe. “I will try to decide what my duty is.” + </p> + <p> + “Your duty's pretty plain to me,” said Mr. Tooting. “If I had money, I'd + know that the best way to use it is for the people,—ain't that so?” + </p> + <p> + “In the meantime,” Mr. Crewe continued, “you may drop in to-morrow at + three.” + </p> + <p> + “You'd better make it to-morrow night, hadn't you?” said Mr. Tooting, + significantly. “There ain't any back way to this house.” + </p> + <p> + “As you choose,” said Mr. Crewe. + </p> + <p> + They passed within a few feet of Victoria, who resisted an almost + uncontrollable impulse to rise and confront them. The words given her to + use were surging in her brain, and yet she withheld them why, she knew + not. Perhaps it was because, after such communion as the afternoon had + brought, the repulsion she felt for Mr. Tooting aided her to sit where she + was. She heard the outside door open and close, and she saw Humphrey Crewe + walk past her again into his library, and that door closed, and she was + left in darkness. Darkness indeed for Victoria, who throughout her life + had lived in light alone; in the light she had shed, and the light which + she had kindled in others. With a throb which was an exquisite pain, she + understood now the compassion in Austen's eyes, and she saw so simply and + so clearly why he had not told her that her face burned with the shame of + her demand. The one of all others to whom she could go in this trouble was + denied her, and his lips were sealed, who would have spoken honestly and + without prejudice. She rose and went quietly out into the biting winter + night, and stood staring through the trees at the friendly reddened + windows of the little cottage across the way with a yearning that passed + her understanding. Out of those windows, to Victoria, shone honesty and + truth, and the peace which these alone may bring. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0014" id="link2HCH0014"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIV. THE DESCENDANTS OF HORATIUS + </h2> + <p> + So the twenty honourable members of the State Senate had been dubbed by + the man who had a sense of humour and a smattering of the classics, + because they had been put there to hold the bridge against the Tarquins + who would invade the dominions of the Northeastern. Twenty picked men, and + true they were indeed, but a better name for their body would have been + the 'Life Guard of the Sovereign.' The five hundred far below them might + rage and at times revolt, but the twenty in their shining armour stood + undaunted above the vulnerable ground and smiled grimly at the mob. The + citadel was safe. + </p> + <p> + The real Horatius of the stirring time of which we write was that old and + tried veteran, the Honourable Brush Bascom; and Spurius Lartius might be + typified by the indomitable warrior, the Honourable Jacob Botcher, while + the Honourable Samuel Doby of Hale, Speaker of the House, was + unquestionably Herminius. How the three held the bridge that year will be + told in as few and as stirring words as possible. A greater than Porsena + confronted them, and well it was for them, and for the Empire, that the + Body Guard of the Twenty stood behind them. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Lars Porsena of Clusium, + By the Nine Gods he swore.” + </pre> + <p> + The morning after the State Tribune had printed that memorable speech on + national affairs—statistics and all, with an editorial which gave + every evidence of Mr. Peter Pardriff's best sparkle—Mr. Crewe + appeared on the floor of the House with a new look in his eye which made + discerning men turn and stare at him. It was the look of the great when + they are justly indignant, when their trust—nobly given—has + been betrayed. Washington, for instance, must have had just such a look on + the battlefield of Trenton. The Honourable Jacob Botcher, pressing forward + as fast as his bulk would permit and with the newspaper in his hand, was + met by a calm and distant manner which discomposed that statesman, and + froze his stout index finger to the editorial which “perhaps Mr. Crewe had + not seen.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Crewe was too big for resentment, but he knew how to meet people who + didn't measure up to his standards. Yes, he had seen the editorial, and + the weather still continued fine. The Honourable Jacob was left behind + scratching his head, and presently he sought a front seat in which to + think, the back ones not giving him room enough. The brisk, cheery + greeting of the Honourable Brush Bascom fared no better, but Mr. Bascom + was a philosopher, and did not disturb the great when their minds were + revolving on national affairs and the welfare of humanity in general. Mr. + Speaker Doby and Mr. Ridout got but abstract salutations also, and were + correspondingly dismayed. + </p> + <p> + That day, and for many days thereafter, Mr. Crewe spent some time—as + was entirely proper—among the back seats, making the acquaintance of + his humbler fellow members of the submerged four hundred and seventy. He + had too long neglected this, so he told them, but his mind had been on + high matters. During many of his mature years he had pondered as to how + the welfare of community and State could be improved, and the result of + that thought was embodied in the bills of which they had doubtless + received copies. If not, down went their names in a leather-bound + memorandum, and they got copies in the next mails. + </p> + <p> + The delight of some of the simple rustic members at this unbending of a + great man may be imagined. To tell the truth, they had looked with little + favour upon the intimacy which had sprung up between him and those + tyrannical potentates, Messrs. Botcher and Bascom, and many who had the + courage of their convictions expressed then very frankly. Messrs. Botcher + and Bascom were, when all was said, mere train despatchers of the + Northeastern, who might some day bring on a wreck the like of which the + State had never seen. Mr. Crewe was in a receptive mood; indeed his + nature, like Nebuchadnezzar's, seemed to have experienced some indefinable + and vital change. Was this the Mr. Crewe the humble rural members had + pictured to themselves? Was this the Mr. Crewe who, at the beginning of + the session, had told them roundly it was their duty to vote for his + bills? + </p> + <p> + Mr. Crewe was surprised, he said, to hear so much sentiment against the + Northeastern Railroads. Yes, he was a friend of Mr. Flint's—they + were neighbours in the country. But if these charges had any foundation + whatever, they ought to be looked into—they ought to be taken up. A + sovereign people should not be governed by a railroad. Mr. Crewe was a + business man, but first of all he was a citizen; as a business man he did + not intend to talk vaguely, but to investigate thoroughly. And then, if + charges should be made, he would make them specifically, and as a citizen + contend for the right. + </p> + <p> + It is difficult to restrain one's pen in dealing with a hero, but it is + not too much to say that Mr. Crewe impressed many of the country members + favourably. How, indeed, could he help doing so? His language was + moderate, his poise that of a man of affairs, and there was a look in his + eye and a determination in his manner that boded ill for the Northeastern + if he should, after weighing the facts, decide that they ought to be + flagellated. His friendship with Mr. Flint and the suspicion that he might + be inclined to fancy Mr. Flint's daughter would not influence him in the + least; of that many of his hearers were sure. Not a few of them were + invited to dinner at the Duncan house, and shown the library and the + conservatory. + </p> + <p> + “Walk right in,” said Mr. Crewe. “You can't hurt the flowers unless you + bump against the pots, and if you walk straight you can't do that. I + brought the plants down from my own hothouse in Leith. Those are French + geraniums—very hard to get. They're double, you see, and don't look + like the scrawny things you see in this country. Yes (with a good-natured + smile), I guess they do cost something. I'll ask my secretary what I paid + for that plant. Is that dinner, Waters? Come right in, gentlemen, we won't + wait for ceremony.” + </p> + <p> + Whereupon the delegation would file into the dining room in solemn silence + behind the imperturbable Waters, with dubious glances at Mr. Waters' + imperturbable understudy in green and buff and silver buttons. Honest red + hands, used to milking at five o'clock in the morning, and hands not so + red that measured dry goods over rural counters for insistent female + customers fingered in some dismay what seemed an inexplicable array of + table furniture. + </p> + <p> + “It don't make any difference which fork you take,” said the good-natured + owner of this palace of luxury, “only I shouldn't advise you to use one + for the soup you wouldn't get much of it—what? Yes, this house suits + me very well. It was built by old man Duncan, you know, and his daughter + married an Italian nobleman and lives in a castle. The State ought to buy + the house for a governor's mansion. It's a disgrace that our governor + should have to live in the Pelican Hotel, and especially in a room next to + that of the chief counsel of the Northeastern, with only a curtain and a + couple of folding doors between.” + </p> + <p> + “That's right,” declared an up-state member, “the governor hadn't ought to + live next to Vane. But as to gettin' him a house like this—kind of + royal, ain't it? Couldn't do justice to it on fifteen hundred a year, + could he? Costs you a little mite more to live in it, don't it?” + </p> + <p> + “It costs me something,” Mr. Crewe admitted modestly. “But then our + governors are all rich men, or they couldn't afford to pay the + Northeastern lobby campaign expenses. Not that I believe in a rich man for + governor, gentlemen. My contention is that the State should pay its + governors a sufficient salary to make them independent of the + Northeastern, a salary on which they can live as befits a chief + executive.” + </p> + <p> + These sentiments, and others of a similar tenor, were usually received in + silence by his rural guests, but Mr. Crewe, being a broad-minded man of + human understanding, did not set down their lack of response to surliness + or suspicion of a motive, but rather to the innate caution of the hill + farmer; and doubtless, also, to a natural awe of the unwonted splendour + with which they were surrounded. In a brief time his kindly hospitality + became a byword in the capital, and fabulous accounts of it were carried + home at week ends to toiling wives and sons and daughters, to incredulous + citizens who sat on cracker boxes and found the Sunday papers stale and + unprofitable for weeks thereafter. The geraniums—the price of which + Mr. Crewe had forgotten to find out—were appraised at four figures, + and the conservatory became the hanging gardens of Babylon under glass; + the functionary in buff and green and silver buttons and his duties + furnished the subject for long and heated arguments. And incidentally + everybody who had a farm for sale wrote to Mr. Crewe. Since the motives of + every philanthropist and public benefactor are inevitably challenged by + cynics, there were many who asked the question, “What did Mr. Crewe want?” + It is painful even to touch upon this when we know that Mr. Crewe was + merely doing his duty as he saw it, when we know that he spelled the word, + mentally, with a capital D. + </p> + <p> + There were many, too, who remarked that a touching friendship in the front + seats (formerly plainly visible to the naked eye from the back) had been + strained—at least. Mr. Crewe still sat with Mr. Botcher and Mr. + Bascom, but he was not a man to pretend after the fires had cooled. The + Honourable Jacob Botcher, with his eyes shut so tight, that his honest + face wore an expression of agony, seemed to pray every morning for the + renewal of that friendship when the chaplain begged the Lord to guide the + Legislature into the paths of truth; and the Honourable Brush Bascom wore + an air of resignation which was painful to see. Conversation languished, + and the cosey and familiar haunts of the Pelican knew Mr. Crewe no more. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Crewe never forgot, of course, that he was a gentleman, and a certain + polite intercourse existed. During the sessions, as a matter of fact, Mr. + Bascom had many things to whisper to Mr. Botcher, and Mr. Butcher to Mr. + Bascom, and in order to facilitate this Mr. Crewe changed seats with the + Honourable Jacob. Neither was our hero a man to neglect, on account of + strained relations, to insist upon his rights. His eyes were open now, and + he saw men and things political as they were; he knew that his bills for + the emancipation of the State were prisoners in the maw of the dragon, and + not likely to see the light of law. Not a legislative day passed that he + did not demand, with a firmness and restraint which did him infinite + credit, that Mr. Bascom's and Mr. Butcher's committees report those bills + to the House either favourably or unfavourably. And we must do exact + justice, likewise, to Messrs. Bascom and Butcher; they, too, incited + perhaps thereto by Mr. Crewe's example, answered courteously that the very + excellent bills in question were of such weight and importance as not to + be decided on lightly, and that there were necessary State expenditures + which had first to be passed upon. Mr. Speaker Doby, with all the will in + the world, could do nothing: and on such occasions (Mr. Crewe could see) + Mr. Doby bore a striking resemblance to the picture of the mockturtle in + “Alice m Wonderland”—a fact which had been pointed out by Miss + Victoria Flint. In truth, all three of these gentlemen wore, when + questioned, such a sorrowful and injured air as would have deceived a more + experienced politician than the new member from Leith. The will to oblige + was infinite. + </p> + <p> + There was no doubt about the fact that the session was rapidly drawing to + a close; and likewise that the committees guided by the Honourables Jacob + Butcher and Brush Bascom, composed of members carefully picked by that + judge of mankind, Mr. Doby, were wrestling day and night (behind closed + doors) with the intellectual problems presented by the bills of the member + from Leith. It is not to be supposed that a man of Mr. Crewe's shrewdness + would rest at the word of the chairmen. Other members were catechized, and + in justice to Messrs. Bascom and Botcher it must be admitted that the + assertions of these gentlemen were confirmed. It appeared that the amount + of thought which was being lavished upon these measures was appalling. + </p> + <p> + By this time Mr. Crewe had made some new friends, as was inevitable when + such a man unbent. Three of these friends owned, by a singular chance, + weekly newspapers, and having conceived a liking as well as an admiration + for him, began to say pleasant things about him in their columns—which + Mr. Crewe (always thoughtful) sent to other friends of his. These new and + accidental newspaper friends declared weekly that measures of paramount + importance were slumbering in committees, and cited the measures. Other + friends of Mr. Crewe were so inspired by affection and awe that they + actually neglected their business and spent whole days in the rural + districts telling people what a fine man Mr. Crewe was and circulating + petitions for his bills; and incidentally the committees of Mr. Butcher + and Mr. Bascom were flooded with these petitions, representing the + spontaneous sentiment of an aggrieved populace. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Just then a scout came flying, + All wild with haste and fear + To arms! to arms! Sir Consul + Lars Porsena is here. + On the low hills to westward + The Consul fixed his eye, + And saw the swarthy storm of dust + Rise fast along the sky.” + </pre> + <p> + It will not do to push a comparison too far, and Mr. Hamilton Tooting, of + course, ought not to be made to act the part of Tarquin the Proud. Like + Tarquin, however, he had been deposed—one of those fatuous acts + which the wisest will commit. No more could the Honourable Hilary well be + likened to Pandora, for he only opened the box wide enough to allow one + mischievous sprite to take wings—one mischievous sprite that was to + prove a host. Talented and invaluable lieutenant that he was, Mr. Tooting + had become an exile, to explain to any audience who should make it worth + his while the mysterious acts by which the puppets on the stage were + moved, and who moved them; who, for instance, wrote the declamation which + his Excellency Asa Gray recited as his own. Mr. Tooting, as we have seen, + had a remarkable business head, and combined with it—as Austen Vane + remarked—the rare instinct of the Norway rat which goes down to the + sea in ships—when they are safe. Burrowing continually amongst the + bowels of the vessel, Mr. Tooting knew the weak timbers better than the + Honourable Hilary Vanes who thought the ship as sound as the day Augustus + Flint had launched her. But we have got a long way from Horatius in our + imagery. + </p> + <p> + Little birds flutter around the capital, picking up what crumbs they may. + One of them, occasionally fed by that humanitarian, the Honourable Jacob + Botcher, whispered a secret that made the humanitarian knit his brows. He + was the scout that came flying (if by a burst of imagination we can + conceive the Honourable Jacob in this aerial act)—came flying to the + Consul in room Number Seven with the news that Mr. Hamilton Tooting had + been detected on two evenings slipping into the Duncan house. But the + Consul—strong man that he was—merely laughed. The Honourable + Elisha Jane did some scouting on his own account. Some people are so small + as to be repelled by greatness, to be jealous of high gifts and power, and + it was perhaps inevitable that a few of the humbler members whom Mr. Crewe + had entertained should betray his hospitality, and misinterpret his pure + motives. + </p> + <p> + It was a mere coincidence, perhaps, that after Mr. Jane's investigation + the intellectual concentration which one of the committees had bestowed on + two of Mr. Crewe's bills came to an end. These bills, it is true, carried + no appropriation, and, were, respectively, the acts to incorporate the + State Economic League and the Children's Charities Association. These + suddenly appeared in the House one morning, with favourable + recommendations, and, mirabile dicta, the end of the day saw them through + the Senate and signed by the governor. At last Mr. Crewe by his Excellency + had stamped the mark of his genius on the statute books, and the + Honourable Jacob Botcher, holding out an olive branch, took the liberty of + congratulating him. + </p> + <p> + A vainer man, a lighter character than Humphrey Crewe, would have been + content to have got something; and let it rest at that. Little Mr. Butcher + or Mr. Speaker Doby, with his sorrowful smile, guessed the iron hand + within the velvet glove of the Leith statesman; little they knew the man + they were dealing with. Once aroused, he would not be pacified by bribes + of cheap olive branches and laurels. When the proper time came, he would + fling down the gauntlet—before Rome itself, and then let Horatius + and his friends beware. + </p> + <p> + The hour has struck at last—and the man is not wanting. The French + Revolution found Napoleon ready, and our own Civil War General Ulysses + Grant. Of that ever memorable session but three days remained, and those + who had been prepared to rise in the good cause had long since despaired. + The Pingsquit bill, and all other bills that spelled liberty, were still + prisoners in the hands of grim jailers, and Thomas Gaylord, the elder, had + worn several holes in the carpet of his private room in the Pelican, and + could often be descried from Main Street running up and down between the + windows like a caged lion, while young Tom had been spied standing, with + his hands in his pockets, smiling on the world. + </p> + <p> + Young Tom had his own way of doing things, though he little dreamed of the + help Heaven was to send him in this matter. There was, in the lower House, + a young man by the name of Harper, a lawyer from Brighton, who was + sufficiently eccentric not to carry a pass. The light of fame, as the + sunset gilds a weathercock on a steeple, sometimes touches such men for an + instant and makes them immortal. The name of Mr. Harper is remembered, + because it is linked with a greater one. But Mr. Harper was the first man + over the wall. + </p> + <p> + History chooses odd moments for her entrances. It was at the end of one of + those busy afternoon sessions, with a full house, when Messrs. Bascom, + Botcher, and Ridout had done enough of blocking and hacking and hewing to + satisfy those doughty defenders of the bridge, that a slight, + unprepossessing-looking young man with spectacles arose to make a motion. + The Honourable Jacob Botcher, with his books and papers under his arm, was + already picking his way up the aisle, nodding genially to such of the + faithful as he saw; Mr. Bascom was at the Speaker's desk, and Mr. Ridout + receiving a messenger from the Honourable Hilary at the door. The Speaker, + not without some difficulty, recognized Mr. Harper amidst what seemed the + beginning of an exodus—and Mr. Harper read his motion. + </p> + <p> + Men halted in the aisles, and nudged other men to make them stop talking. + Mr. Harper's voice was not loud, and it shook a trifle with excitement, + but those who heard passed on the news so swiftly to those who had not + that the House was sitting (or standing) in amazed silence by the time the + motion reached the Speaker, who had actually risen to receive it. Mr. Doby + regarded it for a few seconds and raised his eyes mournfully to Mr. Harper + himself, as much as to say that he would give the young man a chance to + take it back if he could—if the words had not been spoken which + would bring the offender to the block in the bloom and enthusiasm of + youth. Misguided Mr. Harper had committed unutterable treason to the + Empire! + </p> + <p> + “The gentleman from Brighton, Mr. Harper,” said the Speaker, sadly, + “offers the following resolution, and moves its adoption: 'Resolved, that + the Committee on Incorporations be instructed to report House bill number + 302, entitled “An act to incorporate the Pingsquit Railroad,” by + eleven-thirty o'clock to-morrow morning'—the gentleman from Putnam, + Mr. Bascom.” + </p> + <p> + The House listened and looked on entranced, as though they were the + spectators to a tragedy. And indeed it seemed as though they were. Necks + were craned to see Mr. Harper; he didn't look like a hero, but one never + can tell about these little men. He had hurled defiance at the + Northeastern Railroads, and that was enough for Mr. Redbrook and Mr. + Widgeon and their friends, who prepared to rush into the fray trusting to + Heaven for speech and parliamentary law. O for a leader now! Horatius is + on the bridge, scarce concealing his disdain for this puny opponent, and + Lartius and Herminius not taking the trouble to arm. Mr. Bascom will crush + this one with the flat of his sword. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Speaker,” said that gentleman, informally, “as Chairman of the + Committee on Incorporations, I rise to protest against such an unheard-of + motion in this House. The very essence of orderly procedure, of effective + business, depends on the confidence of the House in its committees, and in + all of my years as a member I have never known of such a thing. Gentlemen + of the House, your committee are giving to this bill and other measures + their undivided attention, and will report them at the earliest + practicable moment. I hope that this motion will be voted down.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Bascom, with a glance around to assure himself that most of the + hundred members of the Newcastle delegation—vassals of the Winona + Corporation and subject to the Empire—had not made use of their + passes and boarded, as usual, the six o'clock train, took his seat. A buzz + of excitement ran over the house, a dozen men were on their feet, + including the plainly agitated Mr. Harper himself. But who is this, in the + lunar cockpit before the Speaker's desk, demanding firmly to be heard—so + firmly that Mr. Harper, with a glance at him, sits down again; so firmly + that Mr. Speaker Doby, hypnotized by an eye, makes the blunder that will + eventually cost him his own head? + </p> + <p> + “The gentleman from Leith, Mr. Crewe.” + </p> + <p> + As though sensing a drama, the mutterings were hushed once more. Mr. Jacob + Botcher leaned forward, and cracked his seat; but none, even those who had + tasted of his hospitality, recognized that the Black Knight had entered + the lists—the greatest deeds of this world, and the heroes of them, + coming unheralded out of the plain clay. Mr. Crewe was the calmest man + under the roof as he saluted the Speaker, walked up to the clerk's desk, + turned his back to it, and leaned both elbows on it; and he regarded the + sea of faces with the identical self-possession he had exhibited when he + had made his famous address on national affairs. He did not raise his + voice at the beginning, but his very presence seemed to compel silence, + and curiosity was at fever heat. What was he going to say? + </p> + <p> + “Gentlemen of the House,” said Mr. Crewe, “I have listened to the + gentleman from Putnam with some—amusement. He has made the statement + that he and his committee are giving to the Pingsquit bill and other + measures—some other measures—their undivided attention. Of + this I have no doubt whatever. He neglected to define the species of + attention he is giving them—I should define it as the kindly care + which the warden of a penitentiary bestows upon his charges.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Crewe was interrupted here. The submerged four hundred and seventy had + had time to rub their eyes and get their breath, to realize that their + champion had dealt Mr. Bascom a blow to cleave his helm, and a roar of + mingled laughter and exultation arose in the back seats, and there was + more craning to see the glittering eyes of the Honourable Brush and the + expressions of his two companions-in-arms. Mr. Speaker Doby beat the stone + with his gavel, while Mr. Crewe continued to lean back calmly until the + noise was over. + </p> + <p> + “Gentlemen,” he went on, “I will enter at the proper time into a situation—known, + I believe, to most of you—that brings about a condition of affairs + by which the gentleman's committee, or the gentleman himself, with his + capacious pockets, does not have to account to the House for every bill + assigned to him by the Speaker. I have taken the trouble to examine a + little into the gentleman's past record—he has been chairman of such + committees for years past, and I find no trace that bills inimical to + certain great interests have ever been reported back by him. The Pingsquit + bill involves the vital principle of competition. I have read it with + considerable care and believe it to be, in itself, a good measure, which + deserves a fair hearing. I have had no conversation whatever with those + who are said to be its promoters. If the bill is to pass, it has little + enough time to get to the Senate. By the gentleman from Putnam's own + statement his committee have given it its share of attention, and I + believe this House is entitled to know the verdict, is entitled to accept + or reject a report. I hope the motion will prevail.” + </p> + <p> + He sat down amidst a storm of applause which would have turned the head of + a lesser man. No such personal ovation had been seen in the House for + years. How the Speaker got order; how the Honourable Brush Bascom declared + that Mr. Crewe would be called upon to prove his statements; how Mr. + Botcher regretted that a new member of such promise should go off at + half-cock; how Mr. Ridout hinted that the new member might think he had an + animus; how Mr. Terry of Lee and Mr. Widgeon of Hull denounced, in plain + hill language, the Northeastern Railroads and lauded the man of prominence + who had the grit to oppose them, need not be gone into. Mr. Crewe at + length demanded the previous question, which was carried, and the motion + was carried, too, two hundred and fifty to one hundred and fifty-two. The + House adjourned. + </p> + <p> + We will spare the blushes of the hero of this occasion, who was threatened + with suffocation by an inundation from the back seats. In answer to the + congratulations and queries, he replied modestly that nobody else seemed + to have had the sand to do it, so he did it himself. He regarded it as a + matter of duty, however unpleasant and unforeseen; and if, as they said, + he had been a pioneer, education and a knowledge of railroads and the + world had helped him. Whereupon, adding tactfully that he desired the + evening to himself to prepare for the battle of the morrow (of which he + foresaw he was to bear the burden), he extricated himself from his + admirers and made his way unostentatiously out of a side door into his + sleigh. For the man who had kindled a fire—the blaze of which was to + mark an epoch—he was exceptionally calm. Not so the only visitor + whom Waters had instructions to admit that evening. + </p> + <p> + “Say, you hit it just right,” cried the visitor, too exultant to take off + his overcoat. “I've been down through the Pelican, and there ain't been + such excitement since Snow and Giddings had the fight for United States + senator in the '80's. The place is all torn up, and you can't get a room + there for love or money. They tell me they've been havin' conferences + steady in Number Seven since the session closed, and Hilary Vane's sent + for all the Federal and State office-holders to be here in the morning and + lobby. Botcher and Jane and Bascom are circulatin' like hot water, tellin' + everybody that because they wouldn't saddle the State with a debt with + your bills you turned sour on 'em, and that you're more of a corporation + and railroad man than any of 'em. They've got their machine to working a + thousand to the minute, and everybody they have a slant on is going into + line. One of them fellers, a conductor, told me he had to go with 'em. But + our boys ain't idle, I can tell you that. I was in the back of the gallery + when you spoke up, and I shook 'em off the leash right away.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Crewe leaned back from the table and thrust his hands in his pockets + and smiled. He was in one of his delightful moods. + </p> + <p> + “Take off your overcoat, Tooting,” he said; “you'll find one of my best + political cigars over there, in the usual place.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I guessed about right, didn't I?” inquired Mr. Tooting, biting off + one of the political cigars. “I gave you a pretty straight tip, didn't I, + that young Tom Gaylord was goin' to have somebody make that motion to-day? + But say, it's funny he couldn't get a better one than that feller Harper. + If you hadn't come along, they'd have smashed him to pulp. I'll bet the + most surprised man in the State to-night, next to Brush Bascom, is young + Tom Gaylord. It's a wonder he ain't been up here to thank you.” + </p> + <p> + “Maybe he has been,” replied Mr. Crewe. “I told Waters to keep everybody + out to-night because I want to know exactly what I'm going to say on the + floor tomorrow. I don't want 'em to give me trouble. Did you bring some of + those papers with you?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Tooting fished a bundle from his overcoat pocket. The papers in + question, of which he had a great number stored away in Ripton, + represented the foresight, on Mr. Tooting's part, of years. He was a young + man with a praiseworthy ambition to get on in the world, and during his + apprenticeship in the office of the Honourable Hilary Vane many letters + and documents had passed through his hands. A less industrious person + would have neglected the opportunity. Mr. Tooting copied them; and some, + which would have gone into the waste-basket, he laid carefully aside, + bearing in mind the adage about little scraps of paper—if there is + one. At any rate, he now had a manuscript collection which was unique in + its way, which would have been worth much to a great many men, and with + characteristic generosity he was placing it at the disposal of Mr. Crewe. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Crewe, in reading them, had other sensations. He warmed with + indignation as an American citizen that a man should sit in a mahogany + office in New York and dictate the government of a free and sovereign + State; and he found himself in the grip of a righteous wrath when he + recalled what Mr. Flint had written to him. “As a neighbour, it will give + me the greatest pleasure to help you to the extent of my power, but the + Northeastern Railroads cannot interfere in legislative or political + matters.” The effrontery of it was appalling! Where, he demanded of Mr. + Tooting, did the common people come in? And this extremely pertinent + question Mr. Tooting was unable to answer. + </p> + <p> + But the wheels of justice had begun to turn. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Tooting had not exaggerated the tumult and affright at the Pelican + Hotel. The private telephone in Number Seven was busy all evening, while + more or less prominent gentlemen were using continually the public ones in + the boxes in the reading room downstairs. The Feudal system was showing + what it could do, and the word had gone out to all the holders of fiefs + that the vassals should be summoned. The Duke of Putnam had sent out a + general call to the office-holders in that county. Theirs not to reason + why—but obey; and some of them, late as was the hour, were already + travelling (free) towards the capital. Even the congressional delegation + in Washington had received telegrams, and sent them again to Federal + office-holders in various parts of the State. If Mr. Crewe had chosen to + listen, he could have heard the tramp of armed men. But he was not of the + metal to be dismayed by the prospect of a great conflict. He was as cool + as Cromwell, and after Mr. Tooting had left him to take charge once more + of his own armies in the yield, the genlemon from Leith went to bed and + slept soundly. + </p> + <p> + The day of the battle dawned darkly, with great flakes flying. As early as + seven o'clock the later cohorts began to arrive, and were soon as thick as + bees in the Pelican, circulating in the lobby, conferring in various rooms + of which they had the numbers with occupants in bed and out. A wonderful + organization, that Feudal System, which could mobilize an army overnight! + And each unit of it, like the bee, working unselfishly for the good of the + whole; like the bee, flying straight for the object to be attained. Every + member of the House from Putnam County, for instance, was seen by one of + these indefatigable captains, and if the member had a mortgage or an + ambition, or a wife and family that made life a problem, or a situation on + the railroad or in some of the larger manufacturing establishments, let + him beware! If he lived in lodgings in the town, he stuck his head out of + the window to perceive a cheery neighbour from the country on his + doorstep. Think of a system which could do this, not for Putnam County + alone, but for all the counties in the State! + </p> + <p> + The Honourable Hilary Vane, captain-general of the Forces, had had but + four hours' sleep, and his Excellency, the Honourable Asa Gray, when he + arose in the twilight of the morning, had to step carefully to avoid the + cigar butts on the floor which—like so many empty cartridge shells + were unpleasant reminders that a rebellion of no mean magnitude had arisen + against the power to which he owed allegiance, and by the favour of which + he was attended with pomp and circumstance wherever he chose to go. + </p> + <p> + Long before eleven o'clock the paths to the state-house were thronged with + people. Beside the office-holders and their friends who were in town, + there were many residents of the capital city in the habit of going to + hear the livelier debates. Not that the powers of the Empire had permitted + debates on most subjects, but there could be no harm in allowing the lower + House to discuss as fiercely as they pleased dog and sheep laws and + hedgehog bounties. But now! The oldest resident couldn't remember a case + of high treason and rebellion against the Northeastern such as this + promised to be, and the sensation took on an added flavour from the fact + that the arch rebel was a figure of picturesque interest, a millionaire + with money enough to rent the Duncan house and fill its long-disused + stable with horses, who was a capitalist himself and a friend of Mr. + Flint's; of whom it was said that he was going to marry Mr. Flint's + daughter! + </p> + <p> + Long before eleven, too, the chiefs over tens and the chiefs over hundreds + had gathered their men and marched them into the state-house; and Mr. + Tooting, who was everywhere that morning, noticed that some of these led + soldiers had pieces of paper in their hands. The chaplain arose to pray + for guidance, and the House was crowded to its capacity, and the gallery + filled with eager and expectant faces—but the hero of the hour had + not yet arrived. When at length he did walk down the aisle, as + unconcernedly as though he were an unknown man entering a theatre, + feminine whispers of “There he is!” could plainly be heard above the buzz, + and simultaneous applause broke out in spots, causing the Speaker to rap + sharply with his gavel. Poor Mr. Speaker Doby! He looked more like the + mock-turtle than ever! and might have exclaimed, too, that once he had + been a real turtle: only yesterday, in fact, before he had made the + inconceivable blunder of recognizing Mr. Humphrey Crewe. Mr. Speaker Doby + had spent a part of the night in room Number Seven listening to things + about himself. Herminius the unspeakable has given the enemy a foothold in + Rome. + </p> + <p> + Apparently unaware that he was the centre of interest, Mr. Crewe, carrying + a neat little bag full of papers, took his seat beside the Honourable + Jacob Botcher, nodding to that erstwhile friend as a man of the world + should. And Mr. Botcher, not to be outdone, nodded back. + </p> + <p> + We shall skip over the painful interval that elapsed before the bill in + question was reached: painful, at least, for every one but Mr. Crewe, who + sat with his knees crossed and his arms folded. The hosts were facing each + other, awaiting the word; the rebels prayerfully watching their gallant + leader; and the loyal vassals—whose wavering ranks had been added to + overnight—with their eyes on Mr. Bascom. And in justice to that + veteran it must be said, despite the knock-out blow he had received, that + he seemed as debonair as ever. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Now while the three were tightening + The harness on their backs.” + </pre> + <p> + Mr. Speaker Doby read many committee reports, and at the beginning of each + there was a stir of expectation that it might be the signal for battle. + But at length he fumbled among his papers, cleared away the lump in his + throat, and glanced significantly at Mr. Bascom. + </p> + <p> + “The Committee on Incorporations, to whom was referred House bill number + 302, entitled “An act to incorporate the Pingsquit Railroad,” having + considered the same, report the same with the following resolution: + 'Resolved, that it is inexpedient to legislate. Brush Bascom, for the + Committee.' Gentlemen, are you ready for the question? As many as are of + opinion that the report of the Committee should be adopted—the + gentleman from Putnam, Mr. Bascom.” + </p> + <p> + Again let us do exact justice, and let us not be led by our feelings to + give a prejudiced account of this struggle. The Honourable Brush Bascom, + skilled from youth in the use of weapons, opened the combat so adroitly + that more than once the followers of his noble opponent winced and + trembled. The bill, Mr. Bascom said, would have been reported that day, + anyway—a statement received with mingled cheers and jeers. Then + followed a brief and somewhat intimate history of the Gaylord Lumber + Company, not at all flattering to that corporation. Mr. Bascom hinted, at + an animus: there was no more need for a railroad in the Pingsquit Valley + than there was for a merry-go-round in the cellar of the state-house. + (Loud laughter from everybody, some irreverent person crying out that a + merry-go-round was better than poker tables.) When Mr. Bascom came to + discuss the gentleman from Leith, and recited the names of the committees + for which Mr. Crewe—in his desire to be of service to the State had + applied, there was more laughter, even amongst Mr. Crewe's friends, and + Mr. Speaker Doby relaxed so far as to smile sadly. Mr. Bascom laid his + watch on the clerk's desk and began to read the list of bills Mr. Crewe + had introduced, and as this reading proceeded some of the light-minded + showed a tendency to become slightly hysterical. Mr. Bascom said that he + would like to see all those bills grow into laws,—with certain + slight changes,—but that he could not conscientiously vote to saddle + the people with another Civil War debt. It was well for the State, he + hinted, that those committees were composed of stanch men who would do + their duty in all weathers, regardless of demagogues who sought to gratify + inordinate ambitions. + </p> + <p> + The hope of the revolutionists bore these strokes and others as mighty + with complacency, as though they had been so many playful taps; and while + the battle surged hotly around him he sat calmly listening or making + occasional notes with a gold pencil. Born leader that he was, he was + biding his time. Mr. Bascom's attack was met valiantly, but unskillfully, + from the back seats. The Honourable Jacob Botcher arose, and filled the + hall with extracts from the “Book of Arguments”—in which he had been + coached overnight by the Honourable Hilary Vane. Mr. Botcher's tone + towards his erstwhile friend was regretful,—a good man gone wrong + through impulse and inexperience. “I am, sir,” said Mr. Bascom to the + Speaker, “sincerely sorry—sincerely sorry that an individual of such + ability as the member from Leith should be led, by the representations of + political adventurers and brigands and malcontents, into his present + deplorable position of criticising a State which is his only by adoption, + the political conditions of which were as sound and as free from corporate + domination, sir, as those of any State in the broad Union.” (Loud cheers.) + This appeal to State pride by Mr. Botches is a master stroke, and the + friends of the champion of the liberties of the people are beginning (some + of them) to be a little nervous and doubtful. + </p> + <p> + Following Mr. Botches were wild and scattering speeches from the back + benches—unskillful and pitiable counter-strokes. Where was the + champion? Had he been tampered with overnight, and persuaded of the + futility of rebellion? Persuaded that his head would be more useful on his + own neck in the councils of the nation than on exhibition to the populace + from the point of a pike? It looks, to a calm spectator from the gallery, + as though the rebel forces are growing weaker and more demoralized every + moment. Mr. Redbrook's speech, vehement and honest, helps a little; people + listen to an honest and forceful man, however he may lack technical + knowledge, but the majority of the replies are mere incoherent + denunciations of the Northeastern Railroads. + </p> + <p> + On the other hand, the astounding discipline amongst the legions of the + Empire excites the admiration and despair even of their enemies; there is + no random fighting here and breaking of ranks to do useless hacking. A + grave farmer with a beard delivers a short and temperate speech (which he + has by heart), mildly inquiring what the State would do without the + Northeastern Railroads; and the very moderation of this query coming from + a plain and hard-headed agriculturist (the boss of Grenville, if one but + knew it!) has a telling effect. And then to cap the climax, to make the + attitude of the rebels even more ridiculous in the minds of thinking + people, Mr. Ridout is given the floor. Skilled in debate when he chooses + to enter it, his knowledge of the law only exceeded by his knowledge of + how it is to be evaded—to Lartius is assigned the task of following + up the rout. And Mr. Crewe has ceased taking notes. + </p> + <p> + When the House leader and attorney for the Northeastern took his seat, the + victory to all appearances was won. It was a victory for conservatism and + established order against sensationalism and anarchy—Mr. Ridout had + contrived to make that clear without actually saying so. It was as if the + Ute Indians had sought to capture Washington and conduct the government. + Just as ridiculous as that! The debate seemed to be exhausted, and the + long-suffering Mr. Doby was inquiring for the fiftieth time if the House + were ready for the question, when Mr. Crewe of Leith arose and was + recognized. In three months he had acquired such a remarkable knowledge of + the game of parliamentary tactics as to be able, patiently, to wait until + the bolt of his opponents had been shot; and a glance sufficed to revive + the drooping spirits of his followers, and to assure them that their + leader knew what he was about. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Speaker,” he said, “I have listened with great care to the masterly + defence of that corporation on which our material prosperity and civic + welfare is founded (laughter); I have listened to the gentleman's learned + discussion of the finances of that road, tending to prove that it is an + eleemosynary institution on a grand scale. I do not wish to question + unduly the intellects of those members of this House who by their votes + will prove that they have been convinced by the gentleman's argument.” + Here Mr. Crewe paused and drew a slip of paper from his pocket and + surveyed the back seats. “But I perceive,” he continued, “that a great + interest has been taken in this debate—so great an interest that + since yesterday numbers of gentlemen have come in from various parts of + the State to listen to it (laughter and astonishment), gentlemen who hold + Federal and State offices. (Renewed laughter and searching of the House.) + I repeat, Mr. Speaker, that I do not wish to question the intellects of my + fellow-members, but I notice that many of them who are seated near the + Federal and State office-holders in question have in their hands slips of + paper similar to this. And I have reason to believe that these slips were + written by somebody in room Number Seven of the Pelican Hotel.” + (Tremendous commotion, and craning to see whether one's neighbour has a + slip. The faces of the redoubtable three a study.) + </p> + <p> + “I procured one of these slips,” Mr. Crewe continued, “through a + fellow-member who has no use for it—whose intelligence, in fact, is + underrated by the gentlemen in Number Seven. I will read the slip. + </p> + <p> + “'Vote yes on the question. Yes means that the report of the Committee + will be accepted, and that the Pingsquit bill will not pass. Wait for + Bascom's signal, and destroy this paper.”' + </p> + <p> + There was no need, indeed, for Mr. Crewe to say any more than that—no + need for the admirable discussion of railroad finance from an expert's + standpoint which followed to controvert Mr. Ridout's misleading + statements. The reading of the words on the slip of paper of which he had + so mysteriously got possession (through Mr. Hamilton Tooting) was + sufficient to bring about a disorder that for a full minute—Mr. + Speaker Doby found it impossible to quell. The gallery shook with + laughter, and honourable members with slips of paper in their hands were + made as conspicuous as if they had been caught wearing dunces' caps. + </p> + <p> + It was then only, with belated wisdom, that Mr. Bascom and his two noble + companions gave up the fight, and let the horde across the bridge—too + late, as we shall see. The populace, led by a redoubtable leader, have + learned their strength. It is true that the shining senatorial twenty of + the body-guard stand ready to be hacked to pieces at their posts before + the Pingsquit bill shall become a law; and should unutterable treason take + place here, his Excellency is prepared to be drawn and quartered rather + than sign it. It is the Senate which, in this somewhat inaccurate + repetition of history, hold the citadel if not the bridge; and in spite of + the howling mob below their windows, scornfully refuse even to discuss the + Pingsquit bill. The Honourable Hilary Vane, whose face they study at + dinner time, is not worried. Popular wrath does not continue to boil, and + many changes will take place in the year before the Legislature meets + again. + </p> + <p> + This is the Honourable Hilary's public face. But are there not private + conferences in room Number Seven of which we can know nothing—exceedingly + uncomfortable conferences for Horatius and his companions? Are there not + private telegrams and letters to the president of the Northeastern in New + York advising him that the Pingsquit bill has passed the House, and that a + certain Mr. Crewe is primarily responsible? And are there not queries—which + history may disclose in after years—as to whether Mr. Crewe's + abilities as a statesman have not been seriously underrated by those who + should have been the first to perceive them? Verily, pride goeth before a + fall. + </p> + <p> + In this modern version of ours, the fathers throng about another than + Horatius after the session of that memorable morning. Publicly and + privately, Mr. Crewe is being congratulated, and we know enough of his + character to appreciate the modesty with which the congratulations are + accepted. He is the same Humphrey Crewe that he was before he became the + corner-stone of the temple; success is a mere outward and visible sign of + intrinsic worth in the inner man, and Mr. Crewe had never for a moment + underestimated his true value. + </p> + <p> + “There's, no use wasting time in talking about it,” he told the grateful + members who sought to press his hands. “Go home and organize. I've got + your name. Get your neighbours into line, and keep me informed. I'll pay + for the postage-stamps. I'm no impractical reformer, and if we're going to + do this thing, we'll have to do it right.” + </p> + <p> + They left him, impressed by the force of this argument, with an added + respect for Mr. Crewe, and a vague feeling that they were pledged to + something which made not a few of them a trifle uneasy. Mr. Redbrook was + one of these. + </p> + <p> + The felicitations of his new-found friend and convert, Mr. Tooting, Mr. + Crewe cut short with the terseness of a born commander. + </p> + <p> + “Never mind that,” he said, “and follow 'em up and get 'em pledged if you + can.” + </p> + <p> + Get 'em pledged! Pledged to what? Mr. Tooting evidently knew, for he + wasted no precious moments in asking questions. + </p> + <p> + There is no time at this place to go into the feelings of Mr. Tom Gaylord + the younger when he learned that his bill had passed the House. He, too, + meeting Mr. Crewe in the square, took the opportunity to express his + gratitude to the member from Leith. + </p> + <p> + “Come in on Friday afternoon, Gaylord,” answered Mr. Crewe. “I've got + several things to talk to you about. Your general acquaintance around the + State will be useful, and there must be men you know of in the lumber + sections who can help us considerably.” + </p> + <p> + “Help us?” repeated young Tom, in same surprise. + </p> + <p> + “Certainly,” replied Mr. Crewe; “you don't think we're going to drop the + fight here, do you? We've got to put a stop in this State to political + domination by a railroad, and as long as there doesn't seem to be anyone + else to take hold, I'm going to. Your bill's a good bill, and we'll pass + it next session.” + </p> + <p> + Young Tom regarded Mr. Crewe with a frank stare. + </p> + <p> + “I'm going up to the Pingsquit Valley on Friday,” he answered. + </p> + <p> + “Then you'd better come up to Leith to see me as soon as you get back,” + said Mr. Crewe. “These things can't wait, and have to be dealt with + practically.” + </p> + <p> + Young Tom had not been the virtual head of the Gaylord Company for some + years without gaining a little knowledge of politics and humanity. The + invitation to Leith he valued, of course, but he felt that it would not do + to accept it with too much ardour. He was, he said, a very busy man. + </p> + <p> + “That's the trouble with most people,” declared Mr. Crewe; “they won't + take the time to bother about politics, and then they complain when things + don't go right. Now I'm givin' my time to it, when I've got other large + interests to attend to.” + </p> + <p> + On his way back to the Pelican, young Tom halted several times + reflectively, as certain points in this conversation which he seemed to + have missed at the time—came back to him. His gratitude to Mr. Crewe + as a public benefactor was profound, of course; but young Tom's sense of + humour was peculiar, and he laughed more than once, out loud, at nothing + at all. Then he became grave again, and went into the hotel and wrote a + long letter, which he addressed to Mr. Austen Vane. + </p> + <p> + And now, before this chapter which contains these memorable events is + closed, one more strange and significant fact is to be chronicled. On the + evening of the day which saw Mr. Crewe triumphantly leading the insurgent + forces to victory, that gentleman sent his private secretary to the office + of the State Tribune to leave an order for fifty copies of the paper to be + delivered in the morning. Morning came, and the fifty copies, and Mr. + Crewe's personal copy in addition, were handed to him by the faithful + Waters when he entered his dining room at an early hour. Life is full of + disillusions. Could this be the State Tribune he held in his hand? The + State Tribune of Mr. Peter Pardriff, who had stood so staunchly for Mr. + Crewe and better things? Who had hitherto held the words of the Leith + statesman in such golden estimate as to curtail advertising columns when + it was necessary to print them for the public good? + </p> + <p> + Mr. Crewe's eye travelled from column to column, from page to page, in + vain. By some incredible oversight on the part of Mr. Pardriff, the + ringing words were not there,—nay, the soul-stirring events of that + eventful day appeared, on closer inspection, to have been deliberately + edited out! The terrible indignation of the righteous arose as Mr. Crewe + read (in the legislative proceedings of the day before) that the Pingsquit + bill had been discussed by certain members—of whom he was one—and + passed. This was all—literally all! If Mr. Pardriff had lived in the + eighteenth century, he would probably have referred as casually to the + Boston massacre as a street fight—which it was. + </p> + <p> + Profoundly disgusted with human kind,—as the noblest of us will be + at times,—Mr. Crewe flung down the paper, and actually forgot to + send the fifty copies to his friends! + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0015" id="link2HCH0015"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XV. THE DISTURBANCE OF JUNE SEVENTH + </h2> + <p> + After Mr. Speaker Doby had got his gold watch from an admiring and + apparently reunited House, and had wept over it, the Legislature + adjourned. This was about the first of April, that sloppiest and windiest + of months in a northern climate, and Mr. Crewe had intended, as usual, to + make a little trip southward to a club of which he was a member. A sense + of duty, instead, took him to Leith, where he sat through the days in his + study, dictating letters, poring over a great map of the State which he + had hung on the wall, and scanning long printed lists. If we could stand + behind him, we should see that these are what are known as check-lists, or + rosters of the voters in various towns. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Crewe also has an unusual number of visitors for this muddy weather, + when the snow-water is making brooks of the roads. Interested observers—if + there were any—might have remarked that his friendship with Mr. + Hamilton Tooting had increased, that gentleman coming up from Ripton at + least twice a week, and aiding Mr. Crewe to multiply his acquaintances by + bringing numerous strangers to see him. Mr. Tooting, as we know, had + abandoned the law office of the Honourable Hilary Vane and was now engaged + in travelling over the State, apparently in search of health. These were + signs, surely, which the wise might have read with profit: in the offices, + for instance, of the Honourable Hilary Vane in Ripton Square, where + seismic disturbances were registered; but the movement of the needle (to + the Honourable Hilary's eye) was almost imperceptible. What observer, + however experienced, would have believed that such delicate tracings could + herald a volcanic eruption? + </p> + <p> + Throughout the month of April the needle kept up its persistent + registering, and the Honourable Hilary continued to smile. The Honourable + Jacob Botcher, who had made a trip to Ripton and had cited that very + decided earthquake shock of the Pingsquit bill, had been ridiculed for his + pains, and had gone away again comforted by communion with a strong man. + The Honourable Jacob had felt little shocks in his fief: Mr. Tooting had + visited it, sitting with his feet on the tables of hotel waiting-rooms, + holding private intercourse with gentlemen who had been disappointed in + office. Mr. Tooting had likewise been a sojourner in the domain of the + Duke of Putnam. But the Honourable Brush was not troubled, and had + presented Mr. Tooting with a cigar. + </p> + <p> + In spite of the strange omission of the State Tribune to print his speech + and to give his victory in the matter of the Pingsquit bill proper + recognition, Mr. Crewe was too big a man to stop his subscription to the + paper. Conscious that he had done his duty in that matter, neither praise + nor blame could affect him; and although he had not been mentioned since, + he read it assiduously every afternoon upon its arrival at Leith, feeling + confident that Mr. Peter Pardriff (who had always in private conversation + proclaimed himself emphatically for reform) would not eventually refuse—to + a prophet—public recognition. One afternoon towards the end of that + month of April, when the sun had made the last snow-drift into a pool, Mr. + Crewe settled himself on his south porch and opened the State Tribune, and + his heart gave a bound as his eye fell upon the following heading to the + leading editorial:— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + A WORTHY PUBLIC SERVANT FOR GOVERNOR +</pre> + <p> + Had his reward come at last? Had Mr. Peter Pardriff seen the error of his + way? Mr. Crewe leisurely folded back the sheet, and called to his + secretary, who was never far distant. + </p> + <p> + “Look here,” he said, “I guess Pardriff's recovered his senses. Look + here!” + </p> + <p> + The tired secretary, ready with his pencil and notebook to order fifty + copies, responded, staring over his employer's shoulder. It has been said + of men in battle that they have been shot and have run forward some + hundred feet without knowing what has happened to them. And so Mr. Crewe + got five or six lines into that editorial before he realized in full the + baseness of Mr. Pardriff's treachery. + </p> + <p> + “These are times” (so ran Mr. Pardriff's composition) “when the sure and + steadying hand of a strong man is needed at the helm of State. A man of + conservative, business habits of mind; a man who weighs the value of + traditions equally with the just demands of a new era; a man with a + knowledge of public affairs derived from long experience;” (!!!) “a man + who has never sought office, but has held it by the will of the people, + and who himself is a proof that the conduct of State institutions in the + past has been just and equitable. One who has served with distinction upon + such boards as the Railroad Commission, the Board of Equalization, etc., + etc.” (!!!) “A stanch Republican, one who puts party before—” here + the newspaper began to shake a little, and Mr. Crewe could not for the + moment see whether the next word were place or principle. He skipped a few + lines. The Tribune, it appeared, had a scintillating idea, which surely + must have occurred to others in the State. “Why not the Honourable Adam B. + Hunt of Edmundton for the next governor?” + </p> + <p> + The Honourable Adam B. Hunt of Edmundton! + </p> + <p> + It is a pleasure to record, at this crisis, that Mr. Crewe fixed upon his + secretary as steady an eye as though Mr. Pardriff's bullet had missed its + mark. + </p> + <p> + “Get me,” he said coolly, “the 'State Encyclopaedia of Prominent Men.'” + (Just printed. Fogarty and Co., Newcastle, publishers.) + </p> + <p> + The secretary fetched it, open at the handsome and lifelike + steel-engraving of the Honourable Adam, with his broad forehead and + kindly, twinkling eyes, and the tuft of beard on his chin; with his ample + statesman's coat in natural creases, and his white shirt-front and little + black tie. Mr. Crewe gazed at this work of art long and earnestly. The + Honourable Adam B. Hunt did not in the least have the appearance of a bolt + from the blue. And then Mr. Crewe read his biography. + </p> + <p> + Two things he shrewdly noted about that biography; it was placed, out of + alphabetical order, fourth in the book, and it was longer than any other + with one exception that of Mr. Ridout, the capital lawyer. Mr. Ridout's + place was second in this invaluable volume, he being preceded only by a + harmless patriarch. These facts were laid before Mr. Tooting, who was + directed by telephone to come to Leith as soon as he should arrive in + Ripton from his latest excursion. It was nine o'clock at night when that + long-suffering and mud-bespattered individual put in an appearance at the + door of his friend's study. + </p> + <p> + “Because I didn't get on to it,” answered Mr. Tooting, in response to a + reproach for not having registered a warning—for he was Mr. Crewe's + seismograph. “I knew old Adam was on the Railroads' governor's bench, but + I hadn't any notion he'd been moved up to the top of the batting list. I + told you right. Ridout was going to be their next governor if you hadn't + singed him with the Pingsquit bill. This was done pretty slick, wasn't it? + Hilary got back from New York day before yesterday, and Pardriff has the + editorial to-day. Say, I always told you Pardriff wasn't a reformer, + didn't I?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Crewe looked pained. + </p> + <p> + “I prefer to believe the best of people until I know the worst,” he said. + “I did not think Mr. Pardriff capable of ingratitude.” + </p> + <p> + What Mr. Crewe meant by this remark is enigmatical. + </p> + <p> + “He ain't,” replied Mr. Tooting, “he's grateful for that red ticket he + carries around with him when he travels, and he's grateful to the + Honourable Adam B. Hunt for favours to come. Peter Pardriff's a grateful + cuss, all-right, all right.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Crewe tapped his fingers on the desk thoughtfully. + </p> + <p> + “The need of a reform campaign is more apparent than ever,” he remarked. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Tooting put his tongue in his cheek; and, seeing a dreamy expression + on his friend's face, accidentally helped himself to a cigar out of the + wrong box. + </p> + <p> + “It's up to a man with a sense of duty and money to make it,” Mr. Tooting + agreed, taking a long pull at the Havana. + </p> + <p> + “As for the money,” replied Mr. Crewe, “the good citizens of the State + should be willing to contribute largely. I have had a list of men of means + prepared, who will receive notices at the proper time.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Hamilton Tooting spread out his feet, and appeared to be studying them + carefully. + </p> + <p> + “It's funny you should have mentioned cash,” he said, after a moment's + silence, “and it's tough on you to have to be the public-spirited man to + put it up at the start. I've got a little memorandum here,” he added, + fumbling apologetically in his pocket; “it certainly costs something to + move the boys around and keep 'em indignant.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Tooting put the paper on the edge of the desk, and Mr. Crewe, without + looking, reached out his hand for it, the pained expression returning to + his face. + </p> + <p> + “Tooting,” he said, “you've got a very flippant way of speaking of serious + things. It strikes me that these expenses are out of all proportion to the + simplicity of the task involved. It strikes me—ahem that you might + find, in some quarters at least, a freer response to a movement founded on + principle.” + </p> + <p> + “That's right,” declared Mr. Tooting, “I've thought so myself. I've got + mad, and told 'em so to their faces. But you've said yourself, Mr. Crewe, + that we've got to deal with this thing practically.” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly,” Mr. Crewe interrupted. He loved the word. + </p> + <p> + “And we've got to get workers, haven't we? And it costs money to move 'em + round, don't it? We haven't got a bushel basket of passes. Look here,” and + he pushed another paper at Mr. Crewe, “here's ten new ones who've made up + their minds that you're the finest man in the State. That makes twenty.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Crewe took that paper deprecatingly, but nevertheless began a fire of + cross-questions on Mr. Tooting as to the personality, habits, and + occupations of the discerning ten in question, making certain little marks + of his own against each name. Thus it will be seen that Mr. Crewe knew + perfectly what he was about—although no one else did except Mr. + Tooting, who merely looked mysterious when questioned on the streets of + Ripton or Newcastle or Kingston. It was generally supposed, however, that + the gentleman from Leith was going to run for the State Senate, and was + attempting to get a following in other counties, in order to push through + his measures next time. Hence the tiny fluctuations of Hilary Vane's + seismograph an instrument, as will be shown, utterly out-of-date. Not so + the motto toujours l'audace. Geniuses continue (at long intervals) to be + born, and to live up to that motto. + </p> + <p> + That seismograph of the Honourable Hilary's persisted in tracing only a + slightly ragged line throughout the beautiful month of May, in which + favourable season the campaign of the Honourable Adam B. Hunt took root + and flourished—apparently from the seed planted by the State + Tribune. The ground, as usual, had been carefully prepared, and trained + gardeners raked, and watered, and weeded the patch. It had been decreed + and countersigned that the Honourable Adam B. Hunt was the flower that was + to grow this year. + </p> + <p> + There must be something vitally wrong with an instrument which failed to + register the great earthquake shock of June the seventh! + </p> + <p> + Now that we have come to the point where this shock is to be recorded on + these pages, we begin to doubt whether our own pen will be able adequately + to register it, and whether the sheet is long enough and broad enough upon + which to portray the relative importance of the disturbance created. The + trouble is, that there is nothing to measure it by. What other event in + the history of the State produced the vexation of spirit, the anger, the + tears, the profanity; the derision, the laughter of fools, the contempt; + the hope, the glee, the prayers, the awe, the dumb amazement at the superb + courage of this act? No, for a just comparison we shall have to reach back + to history and fable: David and Goliath; Theseus and the Minotaur; or, + better still, Cadmus and the Dragon! It was Cadmus (if we remember + rightly) who wasted no time whatever, but actually jumped down the + dragon's throat and cut him up from the inside! And it was Cadmus, + likewise, who afterwards sowed the dragon's teeth. + </p> + <p> + That wondrous clear and fresh summer morning of June the seventh will not + be forgotten for many years. The trees were in their early leaf in Ripton + Square, and the dark pine patches on Sawanec looked (from Austen's little + office) like cloud shadows against the shimmer of the tender green. He sat + at his table, which was covered with open law-books and papers, but his + eyes were on the distant mountain, and every scent-laden breeze wafted in + at his open window seemed the bearer of a tremulous, wistful, yet + imperious message—“Come!” Throughout the changing seasons Sawanec + called to him in words of love: sometimes her face was hidden by cloud and + fog and yet he heard her voice! Sometimes her perfume as to-day—made + him dream; sometimes, when the western heavens were flooded with the + golden light of the infinite, she veiled herself in magic purple, when to + gaze at her was an exquisite agony, and she became as one forbidden to + man. Though his soul cried out to her across the spaces, she was not for + him. She was not for him! + </p> + <p> + With a sigh he turned to his law-books again, and sat for a while staring + steadfastly at a section of the 'Act of Consolidation of the Northeastern + Railroads' which he had stumbled on that morning. The section, if he read + its meaning aright, was fraught with the gravest consequences for the + Northeastern Railroads; if he read its meaning aright, the Northeastern + Railroads had been violating it persistently for many years and were + liable for unknown sums in damages. The discovery of it had dazed him, and + the consequences resulting from a successful suit under the section would + be so great that he had searched diligently, though in vain, for some + modification of it since its enactment. Why had not some one discovered it + before? This query appeared to be unanswerable, until the simple—though + none the less remarkable—solution came to him, that perhaps no + definite occasion had hitherto arisen for seeking it. Undoubtedly the + Railroads' attorneys must know of its existence—his own father, + Hilary Vane, having been instrumental in drawing up the Act. And a long + period had elapsed under which the Northeastern Railroads had been a law + unto themselves. + </p> + <p> + The discovery was of grave import to Austen. A month before, chiefly + through the efforts of his friend, Tom, who was gradually taking his + father's place in the Gaylord Lumber Company, Austen had been appointed + junior counsel for that corporation. The Honourable Galusha Hammer still + remained the senior counsel, but was now confined in his house at + Newcastle by an illness which made the probability of his return to active + life extremely doubtful; and Tom had repeatedly declared that in the event + of his non-recovery Austen should have Mr. Hammer's place. As counsel for + the Gaylord Lumber Company, it was clearly his duty to call the attention + of young Mr. Gaylord to the section; and in case Mr. Hammer did not resume + his law practice, it would fall upon Austen himself to bring the suit. His + opponent in this matter would be his own father. + </p> + <p> + The consequences of this culminating conflict between them, the coming of + which he had long dreaded—although he had not foreseen its specific + cause—weighed heavily upon Austen. It was Tom Gaylord himself who + abruptly aroused him from his revery by bursting in at the door. + </p> + <p> + “Have you heard what's up?” he cried, flinging down a newspaper before + Austen's eyes. “Have you seen the Guardian?” + </p> + <p> + “What's the matter now, Tom?” + </p> + <p> + “Matter!” exclaimed Tom; “read that. Your friend and client, the + Honourable Humphrey Crewe, is out for governor.” + </p> + <p> + “Humphrey Crewe for governor!” + </p> + <p> + “On an anti-railroad platform. I might have known something of the kind + was up when he began to associate with Tooting, and from the way he spoke + to me in March. But who'd have thought he'd have the cheek to come out for + governor? Did you ever hear of such tommyrot?” + </p> + <p> + Austen looked grave. + </p> + <p> + “I'm not sure it's such tommyrot,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “Not tommyrot?” Tom ejaculated. “Everybody's laughing. When I passed the + Honourable Hilary's door just now, Brush Bascom and some of the old liners + were there, reciting parts of the proclamation, and the boys down in the + Ripton House are having the time of their lives.” + </p> + <p> + Austen took the Guardian, and there, sure enough, filling a leading + column, and in a little coarser type than the rest of the page, he read: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + DOWN WITH RAILROAD RULE! + + The Honourable Humphrey Crewe of Leith, at the request + of twenty prominent citizens, consents to become a candidate + for the Republican Nomination for Governor. + + Ringing letter of acceptance, in which he denounces the + political power of the Northeastern Railroads, and declares + that the State is governed from a gilded suite of offices in + New Pork. +</pre> + <p> + “The following letter, evincing as it does a public opinion thoroughly + aroused in all parts of the State against the present disgraceful + political conditions, speaks for itself. The standing and character of its + signers give it a status which Republican voters cannot ignore.” + </p> + <p> + The letter followed. It prayed Mr. Crewe, in the name of decency and good + government, to carry the standard of honest men to victory. Too long had a + proud and sovereign State writhed under the heel of an all-devouring + corporation! Too long had the Northeastern Railroads elected, for their + own selfish ends, governors and legislatures and controlled railroad + commissions The spirit of 1776 was abroad in the land. It was eminently + fitting that the Honourable Humphrey Crewe of Leith, who had dared to + fling down the gauntlet in the face of an arrogant power, should be the + leader of the plain people, to recover the rights which had been wrested + from them. Had he not given the highest proof that he had the people's + interests at heart? He was clearly a man who “did things.” + </p> + <p> + At this point Austen looked up and smiled. + </p> + <p> + “Tom,” he asked, “has it struck you that this is written in the same + inimitable style as a part of the message of the Honourable Asa Gray?” + </p> + <p> + Tom slapped his knee. + </p> + <p> + “That's exactly what I said I!” he cried. “Tooting wrote it. I'll swear to + it.” + </p> + <p> + “And the twenty prominent citizens—do you know any of 'em, Tom?” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said Tom, in delighted appreciation, “I've heard of three of 'em, + and that's more than any man I've met can boast of. Ed Dubois cuts my hair + when I go to Kingston. He certainly is a prominent citizen in the fourth + ward. Jim Kendall runs the weekly newspaper in Grantley—I understood + it was for sale. Bill Clements is prominent enough up at Groveton. He + wanted a trolley franchise some years ago, you remember.” + </p> + <p> + “And didn't get it.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Crewe's answer was characteristically terse and businesslike. The + overwhelming compliment of a request from such gentlemen must be treated + in the nature of a command—and yet he had hesitated for several + weeks, during which period he had cast about for another more worthy of + the honour. Then followed a somewhat technical and (to the lay mind) + obscure recapitulation of the iniquities the Northeastern was committing, + which proved beyond peradventure that Mr. Crewe knew what he was talking + about; such phrases as “rolling stock,” “milking the road”—an + imposing array of facts and figures. Mr. Crewe made it plain that he was a + man who “did things.” And if it were the will of Heaven that he became + governor, certain material benefits would as inevitably ensue as the day + follows the night. The list of the material benefits, for which there was + a crying need, bore a strong resemblance to a summary of the worthy + measures upon which Mr. Crewe had spent so much time and labour in the + last Legislature. + </p> + <p> + Austen laid down the paper, leaned back in his chair, and thrust his hands + in his pockets, and with a little vertical pucker in his forehead, + regarded his friend. + </p> + <p> + “What do you think of that?” Tom demanded. “Now, what do you think of it?” + </p> + <p> + “I think,” said Austen, “that he'll scare the life out of the Northeastern + before he gets through with them.” + </p> + <p> + “What!” exclaimed Tom, incredulously. He had always been willing to accept + Austen's judgment on men and affairs, but this was pretty stiff. “What + makes you think so?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, people don't know Mr. Crewe, for one thing. And they are beginning + to have a glimmer of light upon the Railroad.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you mean to say he has a chance for the nomination?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know. It depends upon how much the voters find out about him + before the convention.” + </p> + <p> + Tom sat down rather heavily. + </p> + <p> + “You could have been governor,” he complained reproachfully, “by raising + your hand. You've got more ability than any man in the State, and you sit + here gazin' at that mountain and lettin' a darned fool millionaire walk in + ahead of you.” + </p> + <p> + Austen rose and crossed over to Mr. Gaylord's chair, and, his hands still + in his pockets, looked down thoughtfully into that gentleman's square and + rugged face. + </p> + <p> + “Tom,” he said, “there's no use discussing this delusion of yours, which + seems to be the only flaw in an otherwise sane character. We must try to + keep it from the world.” + </p> + <p> + Tom laughed in spite of himself. + </p> + <p> + “I'm hanged if I understand you,” he declared, “but I never did. You think + Crewe and Tooting may carry off the governorship, and you don't seem to + care.” + </p> + <p> + “I do care,” said Austen, briefly. He went to the window and stood for a + moment with his back to his friend, staring across at Sawanec. Tom had + learned by long experience to respect these moods, although they were to + him inexplicable. At length Austen turned. + </p> + <p> + “Tom,” he said, “can you come in to-morrow about this time? If you can't, + I'll go to your office if you will let me know when you'll be in. There's + a matter of business I want to talk to you about.” + </p> + <p> + Tom pulled out his watch. + </p> + <p> + “I've got to catch a train for Mercer,” he replied, “but I will come in in + the morning and see you.” + </p> + <p> + A quarter of an hour later Austen went down the narrow wooden flight of + stairs into the street, and as he emerged from the entry almost bumped + into the figure of a young man that was hurrying by. He reached out and + grasped the young man by the collar, pulling him up so short as almost to + choke him. + </p> + <p> + “Hully gee!” cried the young man whose progress had been so rudely + arrested. “Great snakes!” (A cough.) “What're you tryin' to do? Oh,” + (apologetically) “it's you, Aust. Let me go. This day ain't long enough + for me. Let me go.” + </p> + <p> + Austen kept his grip and regarded Mr. Tooting thoughtfully. + </p> + <p> + “I want to speak to you, Ham,” he said; “better come upstairs.” + </p> + <p> + “Say, Aust, on the dead, I haven't time. Pardriff's waitin' for some copy + now.” + </p> + <p> + “Just for a minute, Ham,” said Austen; “I won't keep you long.” + </p> + <p> + “Leggo my collar, then, if you don't want to choke me. Say, I don't + believe you know how strong you are.” + </p> + <p> + “I didn't know you wore a collar any more, Ham,” said Austen. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Tooting grinned in appreciation of this joke. + </p> + <p> + “You must think you've got one of your Wild West necktie parties on,” he + gasped. “I'll come. But if you love me, don't let the boys in Hilary's + office see me.” + </p> + <p> + “They use the other entry,” answered Austen, indicating that Mr. Tooting + should go up first—which he did. When they reached the office Austen + shut the door, and stood with his back against it, regarding Mr. Tooting + thoughtfully. + </p> + <p> + At first Mr. Tooting returned the look with interest swagger—aggression + would be too emphatic, and defiance would not do. His was the air, + perhaps, of Talleyrand when he said, “There seems to be an inexplicable + something in me that brings bad luck to governments that neglect me:” the + air of a man who has made a brilliant coup d'etat. All day he had worn + that air—since five o'clock in the morning, when he had sprung from + his pallet. The world might now behold the stuff that was in Hamilton + Tooting. Power flowed out of his right hand from an inexhaustible + reservoir which he had had the sagacity to tap, and men leaped into action + at his touch. He, the once, neglected, had the destiny of a State in his + keeping. + </p> + <p> + Gradually, however, it became for some strange reason difficult to + maintain that aggressive stare upon Austen Vane, who shook his head + slowly. + </p> + <p> + “Ham, why did you do it?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “Why?” cried Mr. Tooting, fiercely biting back a treasonable smile. “Why + not? Ain't he the best man in the State to make a winner? Hasn't he got + the money, and the brains, and the get-up-and-git? Why, it's a sure thing. + I've been around the State, and I know the sentiment. We've got 'em + licked, right now. What have you got against it? You're on our side, + Aust.” + </p> + <p> + “Ham,” said Austen, “are you sure you have the names and addresses of + those twenty prominent citizens right, so that any voter may go out and + find 'em?” + </p> + <p> + “What are you kidding about, Aust?” retorted Mr. Tooting, biting back the + smile again. “Say, you never get down to business with me. You don't blame + Crewe for comin' out, do you?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't see how Mr. Crewe could have resisted such an overwhelming + demand,” said Austen. “He couldn't shirk such a duty. He says so himself, + doesn't he?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, go on!” exclaimed Mr. Tooting, who was not able to repress a grin. + </p> + <p> + “The letter of the twenty must have been a great surprise to Mr. Crewe. He + says he was astonished. Did the whole delegation go up to Leith, or only a + committee?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Tooting's grin had by this time spread all over his face—a flood + beyond his control. + </p> + <p> + “Well, there's no use puffin' it on with you, Aust. That was done pretty + slick, that twenty-prominent-citizen business, if I do say it myself. But + you don't know that feller Crewe—he's a full-size cyclone when he + gets started, and nothin' but a range of mountains could stop him.” + </p> + <p> + “It must be fairly exciting to—ride him, Ham.” + </p> + <p> + “Say, but it just is. Kind of breathless, though. He ain't very well known + around the State, and he was bound to run—and I just couldn't let + him come out without any clothes on.” + </p> + <p> + “I quite appreciate your delicacy, Ham.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Tooting's face took on once more a sheepish look, which changed almost + immediately to one of disquietude. + </p> + <p> + “Say, I'll come back again some day and kid with you. I've got to go, Aust—that's + straight. This is my busy day.” + </p> + <p> + “Wouldn't you gain some time if you left by the window?” Austen asked. + </p> + <p> + At this suggestion Mr. Tooting's expressive countenance showed genuine + alarm. + </p> + <p> + “Say, you ain't going to put up any Wild West tricks on me, are you? I + heard you nearly flung Tom Gaylord out of the one in the other room.” + </p> + <p> + “If this were a less civilized place, Ham, I'd initiate you into what is + known as the bullet dance. As it is, I have a great mind to speed you on + your way by assisting you downstairs.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Hamilton Tooting became ashy pale. + </p> + <p> + “I haven't done anything to you, Aust. Say—you didn't—?” He + did not finish. + </p> + <p> + Terrified by something in Austen's eye, which may or may not have been + there at the time of the Blodgett incident, Mr. Tooting fled without + completing his inquiry. And, his imagination being great, he reproduced + for himself such a vivid sensation of a bullet-hole in his spine that he + missed his footing near the bottom, and measured his length in the entry. + Such are the humiliating experiences which sometimes befall the + Talleyrands—but rarely creep into their biographies. + </p> + <p> + Austen, from the top of the stairway, saw this catastrophe, but did not + smile. He turned on his heel, and made his way slowly around the corner of + the passage into the other part of the building, and paused at the open + doorway of the Honourable Hilary's outer office. By the street windows sat + the Honourable Brush Bascom, sphinx-like, absorbing wisdom and clouds of + cigar smoke which emanated from the Honourable Nat Billings. + </p> + <p> + “Howdy, Austen?” said Brush, genially, “lookin' for the Honourable Hilary? + Flint got up from New York this morning, and sent for him a couple of + hours ago. He'll be back at two.” + </p> + <p> + “Have you read the pronunciamento?” inquired Mr. Billings. “Say, Austen, + knowin' your sentiments, I wonder you weren't one of the twenty prominent + citizens.” + </p> + <p> + “All you anti-railroad fellers ought to get together,” Mr. Bascom + suggested; “you've got us terrified since your friend from Leith turned + the light of publicity on us this morning. I hear Ham Tooting's been in + and made you an offer.” + </p> + <p> + News travels fast in Ripton. + </p> + <p> + “Austen kicked him downstairs,” said Jimmy Towle, the office boy, who had + made a breathless entrance during the conversation, and felt it to be the + psychological moment to give vent to the news with which he was bursting. + </p> + <p> + “Is that straight?” Mr. Billings demanded. He wished he had done it + himself. “Is that straight?” he repeated, but Austen had gone. + </p> + <p> + “Of course it's straight,” said Jimmy Towle, vigorously. A shrewd observer + of human nature, he had little respect for Senator Billings. “Ned Johnson + saw him pick himself up at the foot of Austen's stairway.” + </p> + <p> + The Honourable Brush's agate eyes caught the light, and he addressed Mr. + Billings in a voice which, by dint of long training, only carried a few + feet. + </p> + <p> + “There's the man the Northeastern's got to look out for,” he said. “The + Humphrey Crewes don't count. But if Austen Vane ever gets started, + there'll be trouble. Old man Flint's got some such idea as that, too. I + overheard him givin' it to old Hilary once, up at Fairview, and Hilary + said he couldn't control him. I guess nobody else can control him. I wish + I'd seen him kick Ham downstairs.” + </p> + <p> + “I'd like to kick him downstairs,” said Mr. Billings, savagely biting off + another cigar. + </p> + <p> + “I guess you hadn't better try it, Nat,” said Mr. Bascom. + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile Austen had returned to his own office, and shut the door. His + luncheon hour came and went, and still he sat by the open window gazing + out across the teeming plain, and up the green valley whence the Blue came + singing from the highlands. In spirit he followed the water to Leith, and + beyond, where it swung in a wide circle and hurried between wondrous hills + like those in the backgrounds of the old Italians: hills of close-cropped + pastures, dotted with shapely sentinel oaks and maples which cast sharp, + rounded shadows on the slopes at noonday; with thin fantastic elms on the + gentle sky-lines, and forests massed here and there—silent, + impenetrable hills from a story-book of a land of mystery. The river + coursed between them on its rocky bed, flinging its myriad gems to the + sun. This was the Vale of the Blue, and she had touched it with meaning + for him, and gone. + </p> + <p> + He drew from his coat a worn pocket-book, and from the pocket-book a + letter. It was dated in New York in February, and though he knew it by + heart he found a strange solace in the pain which it gave him to reread + it. He stared at the monogram on the paper, which seemed so emblematic of + her; for he had often reflected that her things—even such minute + insignia as this—belonged to her. She impressed them not only with + her taste, but with her character. The entwined letters, Y. F., of the + design were not, he thought, of a meaningless, frivolous daintiness, but + stood for something. Then he read the note again. It was only a note. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “MY DEAR MR. VANE: I have come back to find my mother ill, and I am + taking her to France. We are sailing, unexpectedly, to-morrow, + there being a difficulty about a passage later. I cannot refrain + from sending you a line before I go to tell you that I did you an + injustice. You will no doubt think it strange that I should write + to you, but I shall be troubled until it is off my mind. I am + ashamed to have been so stupid. I think I know now why you would + not consent to be a candidate, and I respect you for it. + + “Sincerely your friend, + + “VICTORIA FLINT.” + </pre> + <p> + What did she know? What had she found out? Had she seen her father and + talked to him? That was scarcely possible, since her mother had been ill + and she had left at once. Austen had asked himself these questions many + times, and was no nearer the solution. He had heard nothing of her since, + and he told himself that perhaps it was better, after all, that she was + still away. To know that she was at Fairview, and not to be able to see + her, were torture indeed. + </p> + <p> + The note was formal enough, and at times he pretended to be glad that it + was. How could it be otherwise? And why should he interpret her interest + in him in other terms than those in which it was written? She had a warm + heart—that he knew; and he felt for her sake that he had no right to + wish for more than the note expressed. After several unsuccessful + attempts; he had answered it in a line, “I thank you, and I understand.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0016" id="link2HCH0016"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVI. THE “BOOK OF ARGUMENTS” IS OPENED + </h2> + <p> + The Honourable Hilary Vane returned that day from Fairview in no very + equable frame of mind. It is not for us to be present at the Councils on + the Palatine when the “Book of Arguments” is opened, and those fitting the + occasion are chosen and sent out to the faithful who own printing-presses + and free passes. The Honourable Hilary Vane bore away from the residence + of his emperor a great many memoranda in an envelope, and he must have + sighed as he drove through the leafy roads for Mr. Hamilton Tooting, with + his fertile mind and active body. A year ago, and Mr. Tooting would have + seized these memoranda of majesty, and covered their margins with new + suggestions: Mr. Tooting, on occasions, had even made additions to the + “Book of Arguments” itself—additions which had been used in New York + and other States with telling effect against Mr. Crewes there. Mr. Tooting + knew by heart the time of going to press of every country newspaper which + had passes (in exchange for advertising!). It was two o'clock when the + Honourable Hilary reached his office, and by three all the edicts would + have gone forth, and the grape-shot and canister would have been on their + way to demolish the arrogance of this petty Lord of Leith.. + </p> + <p> + “Tooting's a dangerous man, Vane. You oughtn't to have let him go,” Mr. + Flint had said. “I don't care a snap of my finger for the other fellow.” + </p> + <p> + How Mr. Tooting's ears would have burned, and how his blood would have + sung with pride to have heard himself called dangerous by the president of + the Northeastern! + </p> + <p> + He who, during all the valuable years of his services, had never had a + sign that that potentate was cognizant of his humble existence. + </p> + <p> + The Honourable Brush Bascom, as we know, was a clever man; and although it + had never been given him to improve on the “Book of Arguments,” he had + ideas of his own. On reading Mr. Crewe's defiance that morning, he had, + with characteristic promptitude and a desire to be useful, taken the first + train out of Putnam for Ripton, to range himself by the side of the + Honourable Hilary in the hour of need. The Feudal System anticipates, and + Mr. Bascom did not wait for a telegram. + </p> + <p> + On the arrival of the chief counsel from Fairview other captains had put + in an appearance, but Mr. Bascom alone was summoned, by a nod, into the + private office. What passed between them seems too sacred to write about. + The Honourable Hilary would take one of the slips from the packet and give + it to Mr. Bascom. + </p> + <p> + “If that were recommended, editorially, to the Hull Mercury, it might + serve to clear away certain misconceptions in that section. + </p> + <p> + “Certain,” Mr. Bascom would reply. + </p> + <p> + “It has been thought wise,” the Honourable Hilary continued, “to send an + annual to the Groveton News. Roberts, his name is. Suppose you recommend + to Mr. Roberts that an editorial on this subject would be timely.” + </p> + <p> + Slip number two. Mr. Bascom marks it 'Roberts.' Subject: “What would the + State do without the Railroad?” + </p> + <p> + “And Grenville, being a Prohibition centre, you might get this worked up + for the Advertiser there.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Bascom's agate eyes are full of light as he takes slip number three. + Subject: “Mr. Humphrey Crewe has the best-stocked wine cellar in the + State, and champagne every night for dinner.” Slip number four, taken + direct from the second chapter of the “Book of Arguments”: “Mr. Crewe is a + reformer because he has been disappointed in his inordinate ambitions,” + etc. Slip number five: “Mr. Crewe is a summer resident, with a house in + New York,” etc., etc. + </p> + <p> + Slip number six, “Book of Arguments,” paragraph, chapter: “Humphrey Crewe, + Defamer of our State.” Assigned, among others, to the Ripton Record. + </p> + <p> + “Paul Pardriff went up to Leith to-day,” said Mr. Bascom. + </p> + <p> + “Go to see him,” replied the Honourable Hilary. “I've been thinking for + some time that the advertising in the Ripton Record deserves an additional + annual.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Bascom, having been despatched on this business, and having + voluntarily assumed control of the Empire Bureau of Publication, the chief + counsel transacted other necessary legal business with State Senator + Billings and other gentlemen who were waiting. At three o'clock word was + sent in that Mr. Austen Vane was outside, and wished to speak with his + father as soon as the latter was at leisure. Whereupon the Honourable + Hilary shooed out the minor clients, leaned back in his chair, and + commanded that his son be admitted. + </p> + <p> + “Judge,” said Austen, as he closed the door behind him, “I don't want to + bother you.” + </p> + <p> + The Honourable Hilary regarded his son for a moment fixedly out of his + little eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Humph” he said. + </p> + <p> + Austen looked down at his father. The Honourable Hilary's expression was + not one which would have aroused, in the ordinary man who beheld him, a + feeling of sympathy or compassion: it was the impenetrable look with which + he had faced his opponents for many years. But Austen felt compassion. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps I'd better come in another time—when you are less busy,” he + suggested. + </p> + <p> + “Who said I was busy?” inquired the Honourable Hilary. + </p> + <p> + Austen smiled a little sadly. One would have thought, by that smile, that + the son was the older and wiser of the two. + </p> + <p> + “I didn't mean to cast any reflection on your habitual industry, Judge,” + he said. + </p> + <p> + “Humph!” exclaimed Mr. Vane. “I've got more to do than sit in the window + and read poetry, if that's what you mean.” + </p> + <p> + “You never learned how to enjoy life, did you, Judge?” he said. “I don't + believe you ever really had a good time. Own up.” + </p> + <p> + “I've had sterner things to think about. I've had 'to earn my living—and + give you a good time.” + </p> + <p> + “I appreciate it,” said Austen. + </p> + <p> + “Humph! Sometimes I think you don't show it a great deal,” the Honourable + Hilary answered. + </p> + <p> + “I show it as far as I can, Judge,” said his son. “I can't help the way I + was made.” + </p> + <p> + “I try to take account of that,” said the Honourable Hilary. + </p> + <p> + Austen laughed. + </p> + <p> + “I'll drop in to-morrow morning,” he said. + </p> + <p> + But the Honourable Hilary pointed to a chair on the other side of the + desk. + </p> + <p> + “Sit down. To-day's as good as to-morrow,” he remarked, with sententious + significance, characteristically throwing the burden of explanation on the + visitor. + </p> + <p> + Austen found the opening unexpectedly difficult. He felt that this was a + crisis in their relations, and that it had come at an unfortunate hour. + </p> + <p> + “Judge,” he said, trying to control the feeling that threatened to creep + into his voice, “we have jogged along for some years pretty peaceably, and + I hope you won't misunderstand what I'm going to say.” + </p> + <p> + The Honourable Hilary grunted. + </p> + <p> + “It was at your request that I went into the law. I have learned to like + that profession. I have stuck to it as well as my wandering, Bohemian + nature will permit, and while I do not expect you necessarily to feel any + pride in such progress as I have made, I have hoped—that you might + feel an interest.” + </p> + <p> + The Honourable Hilary grunted again. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose I am by nature a free-lance,” Austen continued. “You were good + enough to acknowledge the force of my argument when I told you it would be + best for me to strike out for myself. And I suppose it was inevitable, + such being the case, and you the chief counsel for the Northeastern + Railroads, that I should at some time or another be called upon to bring + suits against your client. It would have been better, perhaps, if I had + not started to practise in this State. I did so from what I believe was a + desire common to both of us to—to live together.” + </p> + <p> + The Honourable Hilary reached for his Honey Dew, but he did not speak. + </p> + <p> + “To live together,” Austen repeated. “I want to say that, if I had gone + away, I believe I should always have regretted the fact.” He paused, and + took from his pocket a slip of paper. “I made up my mind from the start + that I would always be frank with you. In spite of my desire to amass + riches, there are some suits against the Northeastern which I have—somewhat + quixotically—refused. Here is a section of the act which permitted + the consolidation of the Northeastern Railroads. You are no doubt aware of + its existence.” + </p> + <p> + The Honourable Hilary took the slip of paper in his hand and stared at it. + “The rates for fares and freights existing at the time of the passage of + this act shall mot be increased on the roads leased or united under it.” + What his sensations were when he read it no man might have read in his + face, but his hand trembled a little, and along silence ensued before he + gave it back to his son with the simple comment:—“Well?” + </p> + <p> + “I do not wish to be understood to ask your legal opinion, although you + probably know that lumber rates have been steadily raised, and if a suit + under that section were successful the Gaylord Lumber Company could + recover a very large sum of money from the Northeastern Railroads,” said + Austen. “Having discovered the section, I believe it to be my duty to call + it to the attention of the Gaylords. What I wish to know is, whether my + taking the case would cause you any personal inconvenience or distress? If + so, I will refuse it.” + </p> + <p> + “No,” answered the Honourable Hilary, “it won't. Bring suit. Much use + it'll be. Do you expect they can recover under that section?” + </p> + <p> + “I think it is worth trying,” said Austen. + </p> + <p> + “Why didn't somebody try it before?” asked the Honourable Hilary. + </p> + <p> + “See here, Judge, I wish you'd let me out of an argument about it. Suit is + going to be brought, whether I bring it or another man. If you would + prefer for any reason that I shouldn't bring it—I won't. I'd much + rather resign as counsel for the Gaylords—and I am prepared to do + so.” + </p> + <p> + “Bring suit,” answered the Honourable Hilary, quickly, “bring suit by all + means. And now's your time. This seems to be a popular season for + attacking the property which is the foundation of the State's prosperity.” + (“Book of Arguments,” chapter 3.) + </p> + <p> + In spite of himself, Austen smiled again. Long habit had accustomed Hilary + Vane to put business considerations before family ties; and this habit had + been the secret of his particular success. And now, rather than admit by + the least sign the importance of his son's discovery of the statute (which + he had had in mind for many years, and to which he had more than once, by + the way, called Mr. Flint's attention), the Honourable Hilary deliberately + belittled the matter as part and parcel of the political tactics against + the Northeastern. + </p> + <p> + Sears caused by differences of opinion are soon healed; words count for + nothing, and it is the soul that attracts or repels. Mr. Vane was not + analytical, he had been through a harassing day, and he was unaware that + it was not Austen's opposition, but Austen's smile, which set the torch to + his anger. Once, shortly after his marriage, when he had come home in + wrath after a protracted quarrel with Mr. Tredway over the orthodoxy of + the new minister, in the middle of his indignant recital of Mr. Tredway's + unwarranted attitude, Sarah Austen had smiled. The smile had had in it, to + be sure, nothing of conscious superiority, but it had been utterly + inexplicable to Hilary Vane. He had known for the first time what it was + to feel murder in the heart, and if he had not rushed out of the room, he + was sure he would have strangled her. After all, the Hilary Vanes of this + world cannot reasonably be expected to perceive the humour in their + endeavours. + </p> + <p> + Now the son's smile seemed the reincarnation of the mother's. That smile + was in itself a refutation of motive on Austen's part which no words could + have made more emphatic; it had in it (unconsciously, too) compassion for + and understanding of the Honourable Hilary's mood and limitations. Out of + the corner of his mental vision—without grasping it—the + Honourable Hilary perceived this vaguely. It was the smile in which a + parent privately indulges when a child kicks his toy locomotive because + its mechanism is broken. It was the smile of one who, unforgetful of the + scheme of the firmament and the spinning planets, will not be moved to + anger by him who sees but the four sides of a pit. + </p> + <p> + Hilary Vane grew red around the eyes—a danger signal of the old + days. + </p> + <p> + “Take the suit,” he said. “If you don't, I'll make it known all over the + State that you started it. I'll tell Mr. Flint to-morrow. Take it, do you + hear me? You ask me if I have any pride in you. I answer, yes. I'd like to + see what you can do. I've done what I could for you, and now I wash my + hands of you. Go,—ruin yourself if you want to. You've always been + headed that way, and there's no use trying to stop you. You don't seem to + have any notion of decency or order, or any idea of the principle on which + this government was based. Attack property destroy it. So much the better + for you and your kind. Join the Humphrey Crewes—you belong with 'em. + Give those of us who stand for order and decency as much trouble as you + can. Brand us as rascals trying to enrich ourselves with politics, and + proclaim yourselves saints nobly striving to get back the rights of the + people. If you don't bring that suit, I tell you I'll give you the credit + for it—and I mean what I say.” + </p> + <p> + Austen got to his feet. His own expression, curiously enough, had not + changed to one of anger. His face had set, but his eyes held the look that + seemed still to express compassion, and what he felt was a sorrow that + went to the depths of his nature. What he had so long feared—what he + knew they had both feared—had come at last. + </p> + <p> + “Good-by, Judge,” he said. + </p> + <p> + Hilary Vane stared at him dumbly. His anger had not cooled, his eyes still + flamed, but he suddenly found himself bereft of speech. Austen put his + hand on his father's shoulder, and looked down silently into his face. But + Hilary was stiff as in a rigour, expressionless save for the defiant red + in his eye. + </p> + <p> + “I don't think you meant all that, Judge, and I don't intend to hold it + against you.” + </p> + <p> + Still Hilary stared, his lips in the tight line which was the emblem of + his character, his body rigid. He saw his son turn and walk to the door, + and turn again with his handle on the knob, and Hilary did not move. The + door closed, and still he sat there, motionless, expressionless. + </p> + <p> + Austen was hailed by those in the outer office, but he walked through them + as though the place were empty. Rumours sprang up behind him of which he + was unconscious; the long-expected quarrel had come; Austen had joined the + motley ranks of the rebels under Mr. Crewe. Only the office boy, Jimmy + Towle, interrupted the jokes that were flying by repeating, with dogged + vehemence, “I tell you it ain't so. Austen kicked Ham downstairs. Ned + Johnson saw him.” Nor was it on account of this particular deed that + Austen was a hero in Jimmy's eyes. + </p> + <p> + Austen, finding himself in the square, looked at his watch. It was four + o'clock. He made his way under the maples to the house in Hanover Street, + halted for a moment contemplatively before the familiar classic pillars of + its porch, took a key from his pocket, and (unprecedented action!) entered + by the front door. Climbing to the attic, he found two valises—one + of which he had brought back from Pepper County—and took them to his + own room. They held, with a little crowding, most of his possessions, + including a photograph of Sarah Austen, which he left on the bureau to the + last. Once or twice he paused in his packing to gaze at the face, striving + to fathom the fleeting quality of her glance which the photograph had so + strangely caught. In that glance nature had stamped her enigma—for + Sarah Austen was a child of nature. Hers was the gentle look of wild + things—but it was more; it was the understanding of—the + unwritten law of creation, the law by which the flowers grow, and wither; + the law by which the animal springs upon its prey, and, unerring, seeks + its mate; the law of the song of the waters, and the song of the morning + stars; the law that permits evil and pain and dumb, incomprehensible + suffering; the law that floods at sunset the mountain lands with colour + and the soul with light; and the law that rends the branches in the blue + storm. Of what avail was anger against it, or the puny rage of man? Hilary + Vane, not recognizing it, had spent his force upon it, like a hawk against + a mountain wall, but Austen looked at his mother's face and understood. In + it was not the wisdom of creeds and cities, but the unworldly wisdom which + comprehends and condones. + </p> + <p> + His packing finished, with one last glance at the room Austen went + downstairs with his valises and laid them on the doorstep. Then he went to + the stable and harnessed Pepper, putting into the buggy his stable blanket + and halter and currycomb, and, driving around to the front of the house, + hitched the horse at the stone post, and packed the valises in the back of + the buggy. After that he walked slowly to the back of the house and looked + in at the kitchen window. Euphrasia, her thin arms bare to the elbow, was + bending over a wash-tub. He spoke her name, and as she lifted her head a + light came into her face which seemed to make her young again. She dried + her hands hastily on her apron as she drew towards him. He sprang through + the window, and patted her on the back—his usual salutation. And as + she raised her eyes to his (those ordinarily sharp eyes of Euphrasia's), + they shone with an admiration she had accorded to no other human being + since he had come into the world. Terms of endearment she had, + characteristically, never used, she threw her soul into the sounding of + his name. + </p> + <p> + “Off to the hills, Austen? I saw you a-harnessing of Pepper.” + </p> + <p> + “Phrasie,” he said, still patting her, “I'm going to the country for a + while.” + </p> + <p> + “To the country?” she repeated. + </p> + <p> + “To stay on a farm for a sort of vacation.” + </p> + <p> + Her face brightened. + </p> + <p> + “Goin' to take a real vacation, be you?” + </p> + <p> + He laughed. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I don't have to work very hard, Phrasie. You know I get out a good + deal. I just thought—I just thought I'd like to—sleep in the + country—for a while.” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” answered Euphrasia, “I guess if you've took the notion, you've got + to go. It was that way with your mother before you. I've seen her leave + the house on a bright Sabbath half an hour before meetin' to be gone the + whole day, and Hilary and all the ministers in town couldn't stop her.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll drop in once in a while to see you, Phrasie. I'll be at Jabe + Jenney's.” + </p> + <p> + “Jabe's is not more than three or four miles from Flint's place,” + Euphrasia remarked. + </p> + <p> + “I've thought of that,” said Austen. + </p> + <p> + “You'd thought of it!” + </p> + <p> + Austen coloured. + </p> + <p> + “The distance is nothing,” he said quickly, “with Pepper.” + </p> + <p> + “And you'll come and see me?” asked Euphrasia. + </p> + <p> + “If you'll do something for me,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “I always do what you want, Austen. You know I'm not able to refuse you.” + </p> + <p> + He laid his hands on her shoulders. + </p> + <p> + “You'll promise?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “I'll promise,” said Euphrasia, solemnly. + </p> + <p> + He was silent for a moment, looking down at her. + </p> + <p> + “I want you to promise to stay here and take care of the Judge.” + </p> + <p> + Fright crept into her eyes, but his own were smiling, reassuring. + </p> + <p> + “Take care of him!” she cried, the very mention of Hilary raising the + pitch of her voice. “I guess I'll have to. Haven't I took care of him nigh + on forty years, and small thanks and recompense I get for it except when + you're here. I've wore out my life takin' care of him” (more gently). + “What do you mean by makin' me promise such a thing, Austen?” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said Austen, slowly, “the Judge is worried now. Things are not + going as smoothly with him as usual.” + </p> + <p> + “Money?” demanded Euphrasia. “He ain't lost money, has he?” + </p> + <p> + A light began to dance in Austen's eyes in spite of the weight within him. + </p> + <p> + “Now, Phrasie,” he said, lifting her chin a little, “you know you don't + care any more about money than I do.” + </p> + <p> + “Lord help me,” she exclaimed, “Lord help me if I didn't! And as long as + you don't care for it, and no sense can be knocked into your head about + it, I hope you'll marry somebody that does know the value of it. If Hilary + was to lose what he has now, before it comes rightly to you, he'd ought to + be put in jail.” + </p> + <p> + Austen laughed, and shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “Phrasie, the Lord did you a grave injustice when he didn't make you a + man, but I suppose he'll give you a recompense hereafter. No, I believe I + am safe in saying that the Judge's securities are still secure. Not that I + really know—or care—” (shakes of the head from Euphrasia). + “Poor old Judge! Worse things than finance are troubling him now.” + </p> + <p> + “Not a woman!” cried Euphrasia, horror-stricken at the very thought. “He + hasn't took it into his head after all these years—” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Austen, laughing, “no, no. It's not quite as bad as that, but + it's pretty bad.” + </p> + <p> + “In Heaven's name, what is it?” she demanded. “Reformers,” said Austen. + </p> + <p> + “Reformers?” she repeated. “What might they be?” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” answered Austen, “you might call them a new kind of caterpillar—only + they feed on corporations instead of trees.” + </p> + <p> + Euphrasia shook her head vigorously. + </p> + <p> + “Go 'long,” she exclaimed. “When you talk like that I never can follow + you, Austen. If Hilary has any worries, I guess he brought 'em on himself. + I never knew him to fail.” + </p> + <p> + “Ambitious and designing persons are making trouble for his railroad.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I never took much stock in that railroad,” said Euphrasia, with + emphasis. “I never was on it but an engine gave out, and the cars was + jammed, and it wasn't less than an hour late. And then they're eternally + smashin' folks or runnin' 'em down. You served 'em right when you made 'em + pay that Meader man six thousand dollars, and I told Hilary so.” She + paused, and stared at Austen fixedly as a thought came into her head. “You + ain't leavin' him because of this trouble, are you, Austen?” + </p> + <p> + “Phrasie,” he said, “I—I don't want to quarrel with him now. I think + it would be easy to quarrel with him.” + </p> + <p> + “You mean him quarrel with you,” returned Euphrasia. “I'd like to see him! + If he did, it wouldn't take me long to pack up and leave.” + </p> + <p> + “That's just it. I don't want that to happen. And I've had a longing to go + out and pay a little visit to Jabe up in the hills, and drive his colts + for him. You see,” he said, “I've got a kind of affection for the Judge.” + </p> + <p> + Euphrasia looked at him, and her lips trembled. + </p> + <p> + “He don't deserve it,” she declared, “but I suppose he's your father.” + </p> + <p> + “He can't get out of that,” said Austen. + </p> + <p> + “I'd like to see him try it,” said Euphrasia. “Come in soon, Austen,” she + whispered, “come in soon.” + </p> + <p> + She stood on the lawn and watched him as he drove away, and he waved + good-by to her over the hood of the buggy. When he was out of sight she + lifted her head, gave her eyes a vigorous brush with her checked apron, + and went back to her washing. + </p> + <p> + It was not until Euphrasia had supper on the table that Hilary Vane came + home, and she glanced at him sharply as he took his usual seat. It is a + curious fact that it is possible for two persons to live together for more + than a third of a century, and at the end of that time understand each + other little better than at the beginning. The sole bond between Euphrasia + and Hilary was that of Sarah Austen and her son. Euphrasia never knew when + Hilary was tired, or when he was cold, or hungry, or cross, although she + provided for all these emergencies. Her service to him was unflagging, but + he had never been under the slightest delusion that it was not an + inheritance from his wife. There must have been some affection between Mr. + Vane and his housekeeper, hidden away in the strong boxes of both but up + to the present this was only a theory—not quite as probable as that + about the inhabitants of Mars. + </p> + <p> + He ate his supper to-night with his usual appetite, which had always been + sparing; and he would have eaten the same amount if the Northeastern + Railroads had been going into the hands of a receiver the next day. Often + he did not exchange a word with Euphrasia between home-coming and + bed-going, and this was apparently to be one of these occasions. After + supper he went, as usual, to sit on the steps of his porch, and to cut his + piece of Honey Dew, which never varied a milligram. Nine o'clock struck, + and Euphrasia, who had shut up the back of the house, was on her way to + bed with her lamp in her hand, when she came face to face with him in the + narrow passageway. + </p> + <p> + “Where's Austen?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + Euphrasia halted. The lamp shook, but she raised it to the level of his + eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Don't you know?” she demanded. + </p> + <p> + “No,” he said, with unparalleled humility. + </p> + <p> + She put down the lamp on the little table that stood beside her. + </p> + <p> + “He didn't tell you he was a-goin'?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Hilary. + </p> + <p> + “Then how did you know he wasn't just buggy-ridin'?” she said. + </p> + <p> + Hilary Vane was mute. + </p> + <p> + “You've be'n to his room!” she exclaimed. “You've seen his things are + gone!” + </p> + <p> + He confessed it by his silence. Then, with amazing swiftness and vigour + for one of her age, Euphrasia seized him by the arms and shook him. + </p> + <p> + “What have you done to him?” she cried; “what have you done to him? You + sent him off. You've never understood him—you've never behaved like + a father to him. You ain't worthy to have him.” She flung herself away and + stood facing Hilary at a little distance. “What a fool I was! What a fool! + I might have known it, and I promised him.” + </p> + <p> + “Promised him?” Hilary repeated. The shaking, the vehemence and anger, of + Euphrasia seemed to have had no effect whatever on the main trend of his + thoughts. + </p> + <p> + “Where has he gone?” + </p> + <p> + “You can find out for yourself,” she retorted bitterly. “I wish on your + account it was to China. He came here this afternoon, as gentle as ever, + and packed up his things, and said he was goin' away because you was + worried. Worried!” she exclaimed scornfully. “His worry and his trouble + don't count—but yours. And he made me promise to stay with you. If + it wasn't for him,” she cried, picking up the lamp, “I'd leave you this + very night.” + </p> + <p> + She swept past him, and up the narrow stairway to her bedroom. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0017" id="link2HCH0017"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVII. BUSY DAYS AT WEDDERBURN + </h2> + <p> + There is no blast so powerful, so withering, as the blast of ridicule. + Only the strongest men can withstand it, only reformers who are such in + deed, and not alone in name, can snap their fingers at it, and liken it to + the crackling of thorns under a pot. Confucius and Martin Luther must have + been ridiculed, Mr. Crewe reflected, and although he did not have time to + assure himself on these historical points, the thought stayed him. Sixty + odd weekly newspapers, filled with arguments from the Book, attacked him + all at once; and if by chance he should have missed the best part of this + flattering personal attention, the editorials which contained the most + spice were copied at the end of the week into the columns of his erstwhile + friend, the State Tribune, now the organ of that mysterious personality, + the Honourable Adam B. Hunt. 'Et tu, Brute!' + </p> + <p> + Moreover, Mr. Peter Pardriff had something of his own to say. Some + gentlemen of prominence (not among the twenty signers of the new + Declaration of Independence) had been interviewed by the Tribune reporter + on the subject of Mr. Crewe's candidacy. Here are some of the answers, + duly tabulated. + </p> + <p> + “Negligible.”—Congressman Fairplay. + </p> + <p> + “One less vote for the Honourable Adam B. Hunt.”—The Honourable + Jacob Botcher. + </p> + <p> + “A monumental farce.”—Ex-Governor Broadbent. + </p> + <p> + “Who is Mr. Crewe?”—Senator Whitredge. (Ah ha! Senator, this want + shall be supplied, at least.) + </p> + <p> + “I have been very busy. I do not know what candidates are in the field.”—Mr. + Augustus P. Flint, president of the Northeastern Railroads. (The unkindest + cut of all!) + </p> + <p> + “I have heard that a Mr. Crewe is a candidate, but I do not know much + about him. They tell me he is a summer resident at Leith.”—The + Honourable Hilary Vane. + </p> + <p> + “A millionaire's freak—not to be taken seriously.—State + Senator Nathaniel Billings.” + </p> + <p> + The State Tribune itself seemed to be especially interested in the past + careers of the twenty signers. Who composed this dauntless band, whose + members had arisen with remarkable unanimity and martyr's zeal in such + widely scattered parts of the State? Had each been simultaneously inspired + with the same high thought, and—more amazing still—with the + idea of the same peerless leader? The Tribune modestly ventured the theory + that Mr. Crewe had appeared to each of the twenty in a dream, with a + flaming sword pointing to the steam of the dragon's breath. Or, perhaps, a + star had led each of the twenty to Leith. (This likening of Mr. H—n + T—g to a star caused much merriment among that gentleman's former + friends and acquaintances.) The Tribune could not account for this + phenomenon by any natural laws, and was forced to believe that the thing + was a miracle—in which case it behooved the Northeastern Railroads + to read the handwriting on the wall. Unless—unless the twenty did + not exist! Unless the whole thing were a joke! The Tribune remembered a + time when a signed statement, purporting to come from a certain Mrs. + Amanda P. Pillow, of 22 Blair Street, Newcastle, had appeared, to the + effect that three bottles of Rand's Peach Nectar had cured her of dropsy. + On investigation there was no Blair Street, and Mrs. Amanda P. Pillow was + as yet unborn. The one sure thing about the statement was that Rand's + Peach Nectar could be had, in large or small quantities, as desired. And + the Tribune was prepared to state; on its own authority, that a Mr. + Humphrey Crewe did exist, and might reluctantly consent to take the + nomination for the governorship. In industry and zeal he was said to + resemble the celebrated and lamented Mr. Rand, of the Peach Nectar. + </p> + <p> + Ingratitude merely injures those who are capable of it, although it + sometimes produces sadness in great souls. What were Mr. Crewe's feelings + when he read this drivel? When he perused the extracts from the “Book of + Arguments” which appeared (with astonishing unanimity, too!) in sixty odd + weekly newspapers of the State—an assortment of arguments for each + county. + </p> + <p> + “Brush Bascom's doin' that work now,” said Mr. Tooting, contemptuously, + “and he's doin' it with a shovel. Look here! He's got the same squib in + three towns within a dozen miles of each other, the one beginning + 'Political conditions in this State are as clean as those of any State in + the Union, and the United Northeastern Railroads is a corporation which + is, fortunately, above calumny. A summer resident who, to satisfy his lust + for office, is rolling to defame—'” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” interrupted Mr. Crewe, “never mind reading any more of that rot.” + </p> + <p> + “It's botched,” said Mr. Tooting, whose artistic soul was jarred. “I'd + have put that in Avalon County, and Weave, and Marshall. I know men that + take all three of those papers in Putnam.” + </p> + <p> + No need of balloonists to see what the enemy is about, when we have a Mr. + Tooting. + </p> + <p> + “They're stung!” he cried, as he ran rapidly through the bundle of papers—Mr. + Crewe having subscribed, with characteristic generosity, to the entire + press of the State. “Flint gave 'em out all this stuff about the railroad + bein' a sacred institution. You've got 'em on the run right now, Mr. + Crewe. You'll notice that, Democrats and Republicans, they've dropped + everybody else, that they've all been sicked on to you. They're scared.” + </p> + <p> + “I came to that conclusion some time ago,” replied Mr. Crewe, who was + sorting over his letters. + </p> + <p> + “And look there!” exclaimed Mr. Tooting, tearing out a paragraph, “there's + the best campaign material we've had yet. Say, I'll bet Flint taken that + doddering idiot's pass away for writing that.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Crewe took the extract, and read:— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “A summer resident of Leith, who is said to be a millionaire + many times over, and who had a somewhat farcical career as a + legislator last winter, has announced himself as a candidate + for the Republican nomination on a platform attacking the + Northeastern Railroads. Mr. Humphrey Crewe declares that the + Northeastern Railroads govern us. What if they do? Every + sober-minded citizen, will agree that they give us a pretty + good government. More power to them.” + </pre> + <p> + Mr. Crewe permitted himself to smile. + </p> + <p> + “They are playing into our hands, sure enough. What?” + </p> + <p> + This is an example of the spirit in which the ridicule and abuse was met. + </p> + <p> + It was Senator Whitredge—only, last autumn so pleased to meet Mr. + Crewe at Mr. Flint's—who asked the hypocritical question, “Who is + Humphrey Crewe?” A biography (in pamphlet form, illustrated,—send + your name and address) is being prepared by the invaluable Mr. Tooting, + who only sleeps six hours these days. We shall see it presently, when it + emerges from that busy hive at Wedderburn. + </p> + <p> + Wedderburn was a hive, sure enough. Not having a balloon ourselves, it is + difficult to see all that is going on there; but there can be no mistake + (except by the Honourable Hilary's seismograph) that it has become the + centre of extraordinary activity. The outside world has paused to draw + breath at the spectacle, and members of the metropolitan press are filling + the rooms of the Ripton House and adding to the prosperity of its + livery-stable. Mr. Crewe is a difficult man to see these days—there + are so many visitors at Wedderburn, and the representatives of the + metropolitan press hitch their horses and stroll around the grounds, or + sit on the porch and converse with gentlemen from various counties of the + State who (as the Tribune would put it) have been led by a star to Leith. + </p> + <p> + On the occasion of one of these gatherings, when Mr. Crewe had been + inaccessible for four hours, Mrs. Pomfret drove up in a victoria with her + daughter Alice. + </p> + <p> + “I'm sure I don't know when we're going to see poor dear Humphrey again,” + said Mrs. Pomfret, examining the group on the porch through her + gold-mounted lenses; “these awful people are always here when I come. I + wonder if they sleep here, in the hammocks and lounging chairs! Alice, we + must be very polite to them—so much depends on it.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm always polite, mother,” answered Alice, “except when you tell me not + to be. The trouble is I never know myself.” + </p> + <p> + The victoria stopped in front of the door, and the irreproachable Waters + advanced across the porch. + </p> + <p> + “Waters,” said Mrs. Pomfret, “I suppose Mr. Crewe is too busy to come + out.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm afraid so, madam,” replied Waters; “there's a line of gentlemen + waitin' here” (he eyed them with no uncertain disapproval) “and I've + positive orders not to disturb him, madam.” + </p> + <p> + “I quite understand, at a time like this,” said Mrs. Pomfret, and added, + for the benefit of her audience, “when Mr. Crewe has been public-spirited + and unselfish enough to undertake such a gigantic task. Tell him Miss + Pomfret and I call from time to time because we are so interested, and + that the whole of Leith wishes him success.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll tell him, madam,” said Waters. + </p> + <p> + But Mrs. Pomfret did not give the signal for her coachman to drive on. She + looked, instead, at the patient gathering. + </p> + <p> + “Good morning, gentlemen,” she said. + </p> + <p> + “Mother!” whispered Alice, “what are you going to do?” + </p> + <p> + The gentlemen rose. + </p> + <p> + “I'm Mrs. Pomfret,” she said, as though that simple announcement were + quite sufficient,—as it was, for the metropolitan press. Not a man + of them who had not seen Mrs. Pomfret's important movements on both sides + of the water chronicled. “I take the liberty of speaking to you, as we all + seem to be united in a common cause. How is the campaign looking?” + </p> + <p> + Some of the gentlemen shifted their cigars from one hand to the other, and + grinned sheepishly. + </p> + <p> + “I am so interested,” continued Mrs. Pomfret; “it is so unusual in America + for a gentleman to be willing to undertake such a thing, to subject + himself to low criticism, and to have his pure motives questioned. Mr. + Crewe has rare courage—I have always said so. And we are all going + to put our shoulder to the wheel, and help him all we can.” + </p> + <p> + There was one clever man there who was quick to see his opportunity, and + seize it for his newspaper. + </p> + <p> + “And are you going to help Mr. Crewe in his campaign, Mrs. Pomfret?” + </p> + <p> + “Most assuredly,” answered Mrs. Pomfret. “Women in this country could do + so much if they only would. You know,” she added, in her most winning + manner, “you know that a woman can often get a vote when a man can't.” + </p> + <p> + “And you, and—other ladies will go around to the public meetings?” + </p> + <p> + “Why not, my friend; if Mr. Crewe has no objection? and I can conceive of + none.” + </p> + <p> + “You would have an organization of society ladies to help Mr. Crewe?” + </p> + <p> + “That's rather a crude way of putting it,” answered Mrs. Pomfret, with her + glasses raised judicially. “Women in what you call I society are, I am + glad to say, taking an increasing interest in politics. They are beginning + to realize that it is a duty.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you,” said the reporter; “and now would you mind if I took a + photograph of you in your carriage.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, mother,” protested Alice, “you won't let him do that!” + </p> + <p> + “Be quiet, Alice. Lady Aylestone and the duchess are photographed in every + conceivable pose for political purposes. Wymans, just drive around to the + other side of the circle.” + </p> + <p> + The article appeared next day, and gave, as may be imagined, a tremendous + impetus to Mr. Crewe's cause. “A new era in American politics!” “Society + to take a hand in the gubernatorial campaign of Millionaire Humphrey + Crewe!” “Noted social leader, Mrs. Patterson Pomfret, declares it a duty, + and saga that English women have the right idea.” And a photograph of Mrs. + Patterson Pomfret herself, in her victoria, occupied a generous portion of + the front page. + </p> + <p> + “What's all this rubbish about Mrs. Pomfret?” was Mr. Crewe's grateful + comment when he saw it. “I spent two valuable hours with that reporter + givin' him material and statistics, and I can't find that he's used a word + of it.” + </p> + <p> + “Never you mind about that,” Mr. Tooting replied. “The more advertising + you get, the better, and this shows that the right people are behind you. + Mrs. Pomfret's a smart woman, all right. She knows her job. And here's + more advertising,” he continued, shoving another sheet across the desk, “a + fine likeness of you in caricature labelled, 'Ajax defying the Lightning.' + Who's Ajax? There was an Italian, a street contractor, with that name—or + something like it—in Newcastle a couple of years ago—in the + eighth ward.” + </p> + <p> + In these days, when false rumours fly apace to the injury of innocent men, + it is well to get at the truth, if possible. It is not true that Mr. Paul + Pardriff, of the 'Ripton Record,' has been to Wedderburn. Mr. Pardriff was + getting into a buggy to go—somewhere—when he chanced to meet + the Honourable Brush Bascom, and the buggy was sent back to the + livery-stable. Mr. Tooting had been to see Mr. Pardriff before the + world-quaking announcement of June 7th, and had found Mr. Pardriff a + reformer who did not believe that the railroad should run the State. But + the editor of the Ripton Record was a man after Emerson's own heart: “a + foolish consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds”—and Mr. + Pardriff did not go to Wedderburn. He went off on an excursion up the + State instead, for he had been working too hard; and he returned, as many + men do from their travels, a conservative. He listened coldly to Mr. + Tooting's impassioned pleas for cleaner politics, until Mr. Tooting + revealed the fact that his pockets were full of copy. It seems that a + biography was to be printed—a biography which would, undoubtedly, be + in great demand; the biography of a public benefactor, illustrated with + original photographs and views in the country. Mr. Tooting and Mr. + Pardriff both being men of the world, some exceeding plain talk ensued + between them, and when two such minds unite, a way out is sure to be + found. One can be both a conservative and a radical—if one is + clever. There were other columns in Mr. Pardriff's paper besides editorial + columns; editorial columns, Mr. Pardriff said, were sacred to his + convictions. Certain thumb-worn schedules were referred to. Paul Pardriff, + Ripton, agreed to be the publisher of the biography. + </p> + <p> + The next edition of the Record was an example of what Mr. Emerson meant. + Three columns contained extracts of absorbing interest from the + forthcoming biography and, on another page, an editorial. “The Honourable + Humphrey Crewe, of Leith, is an estimable gentleman and a good citizen, + whose public endeavours have been of great benefit to the community. A + citizen of Avalon County, the Record regrets that it cannot support his + candidacy for the Republican gubernatorial nomination. We are not among + those who seek to impugn motives, and while giving Mr. Crewe every credit + that his charges against the Northeastern Railroads are made in good + faith, we beg to differ from him. That corporation is an institution which + has stood the test of time, and enriches every year the State treasury by + a large sum in taxes. Its management is in safe, conservative hands. No + one will deny Mr. Crewe's zeal for the State's welfare, but it must be + borne in mind that he is a newcomer in politics, and that conditions, seen + from the surface, are sometimes deceptive. We predict for Mr. Crewe a long + and useful career, but we do not think that at this time, and on this + platform, he will obtain the governorship.” + </p> + <p> + “Moral courage is what the age needs,” had been Mr. Crewe's true and + sententious remark when he read this editorial. But, bearing in mind a + biblical adage, he did not blame Mr. Tooting for his diplomacy. “Send in + the next man.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Tooting opened the study door and glanced over the public-spirited + citizens awaiting, on the porch, the pleasure of their leader. + </p> + <p> + “Come along, Caldwell,” said Mr. Tooting. “He wants your report from + Kingston. Get a hustle on!” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Caldwell made his report, received many brief and business-like + suggestions, and retired, impressed. Whereupon Mr. Crewe commanded Mr. + Tooting to order his automobile—an occasional and rapid spin over + the country roads being the only diversion the candidate permitted + himself. Wishing to be alone with his thoughts, he did not take Mr. + Tooting with him on these excursions. + </p> + <p> + “And by the way,” said Mr. Crewe, as he seized the steering wheel a few + moments later, “just drop a line to Austen Vane, will you, and tell him I + want to see him up here within a day or two. Make an appointment. It has + occurred to me that he might be very useful.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Tooting stood on the driveway watching the cloud of dust settle on the + road below. Then he indulged in a long and peculiarly significant whistle + through his teeth, rolled his eyes heavenward, and went into the house. He + remembered Austen's remark about riding a cyclone. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Crewe took the Tunbridge road. On his excursion of the day before he + had met Mrs. Pomfret, who had held up her hand, and he had protestingly + brought the car to a stop. + </p> + <p> + “Your horses don't frighten,” he had said. + </p> + <p> + “No, but I wanted to speak to you, Humphrey,” Mrs. Pomfret had replied; + “you are becoming so important that nobody ever has a glimpse of you. I + wanted to tell you what an interest we take in this splendid thing you are + doing.” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said Mr. Crewe, “it was a plain duty, and nobody else seemed + willing to undertake it.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Pomfret's eyes had flashed. + </p> + <p> + “Men of that type are scarce,” she answered. “But you'll win. You're the + kind of man that wins.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes, I'll win,” said Mr. Crewe. + </p> + <p> + “You're so magnificently sure of yourself,” cried Mrs. Pomfret. “Alice is + taking such an interest. Every day she asks, 'When is Humphrey going to + make his first speech?' You'll let us know in time, won't you?” + </p> + <p> + “Did you put all that nonsense in the New York Flare?” asked Mr. Crewe. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Humphrey, I hope you liked it,” cried Mrs. Pomfret. “Don't make the + mistake of despising what women can do. They elected the Honourable Billy + Aylestone—he said so himself. I'm getting all the women interested.” + </p> + <p> + “Who've you been calling on now?” he inquired. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Pomfret hesitated. + </p> + <p> + “I've been up at Fairview to see about Mrs. Flint. She isn't much better.” + </p> + <p> + “Is Victoria home?” Mr. Crewe demanded, with undisguised interest. + </p> + <p> + “Poor dear girl!” said Mrs. Pomfret, “of course I wouldn't have mentioned + the subject to her, but she wanted to know all about it. It naturally + makes an awkward situation between you and her, doesn't it?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Victoria's level-headed enough,” Mr. Crewe had answered; “I guess she + knows something about old Flint and his methods by this time. At any rate, + it won't make any difference with me,” he added magnanimously, and threw + in his clutch. He had encircled Fairview in his drive that day, and was, + curiously enough, headed in that direction now. Slow to make up his mind + in some things, as every eligible man must be, he was now coming rapidly + to the notion that he might eventually decide upon Victoria as the most + fitting mate for one in his position. Still, there was no hurry. As for + going to Fairview House, that might be awkward, besides being open to + misconstruction by his constituents. Mr. Crewe reflected, as he rushed up + the hills, that he had missed Victoria since she had been abroad—and + a man so continually occupied as he did not have time to miss many people. + Mr. Crewe made up his mind he would encircle Fairview every day until he + ran across her. + </p> + <p> + The goddess of fortune sometimes blesses the persistent even before they + begin to persist—perhaps from sheer weariness at the remembrance of + previous importuning. Victoria, on a brand-new and somewhat sensitive + five-year-old, was coming out of the stone archway when Mr. Crewe (without + any signal this time!) threw on his brakes. An exhibition of horsemanship + followed, on Victoria's part, which Mr. Crewe beheld with admiration. The + five-year-old swung about like a weathercock in a gust of wind, assuming + an upright position, like the unicorn in the British coat of arms. + Victoria cut him, and he came down on all fours and danced into the wire + fence that encircled the Fairview domain, whereupon he got another + stinging reminder that there was some one on his back. + </p> + <p> + “Bravo!” cried Mr. Crewe, leaning on the steering wheel and watching the + performance with delight. Never, he thought, had Victoria been more + appealing; strangely enough, he had not remembered that she was quite so + handsome, or that her colour was so vivid; or that her body was so + straight and long and supple. He liked the way in which she gave it to + that horse, and he made up his mind that she would grace any position, + however high. Presently the horse made a leap into the road in front of + the motor and stood trembling, ready to bolt. + </p> + <p> + “For Heaven's sake, Humphrey,” she cried, “shut off your power? Don't sit + there like an idiot—do you think I'm doing this for pleasure?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Crewe good-naturedly turned off his switch, and the motor, with a + dying sigh, was silent. He even liked the notion of being commanded to do + a thing; there was a relish about it that was new. The other women of his + acquaintance addressed him more deferentially. + </p> + <p> + “Get hold of the bridle,” he said to the chauffeur. “You've got no + business to have an animal like that,” was his remark to Victoria. + </p> + <p> + “Don't touch him!” she said to the man, who was approaching with a true + machinist's fear of a high-spirited horse. “You've got no business to have + a motor like that, if you can't handle it any better than you do.” + </p> + <p> + “You managed him all right. I'll say that for you,” said Mr. Crewe. + </p> + <p> + “No thanks to you,” she replied. Now that the horse was comparatively + quiet, she sat and regarded Mr. Crewe with an amusement which was + gradually getting the better of her anger. A few moments since, and she + wished with great intensity that she had been using the whip on his + shoulders instead. Now that she had time to gather up the threads of the + situation, the irresistibly comic aspect of it grew upon her, and little + creases came into the corners of her eyes—which Mr. Crewe admired. + She recalled—with indignation, to be sure—the conversation she + had overheard in the dining room of the Duncan house, but her indignation + was particularly directed, on that occasion, towards Mr. Tooting. Here was + Humphrey Crewe, sitting talking to her in the road—Humphrey Crewe, + whose candidacy for the governorship impugned her father's management of + the Northeastern Railroads—and she was unable to take the matter + seriously! There must be something wrong with her, she thought. + </p> + <p> + “So you're home again,” Mr. Crewe observed, his eyes still bearing witness + to the indubitable fact. “I shouldn't have known it—I've been so + busy.” + </p> + <p> + “Is the Legislature still in session?” Victoria soberly inquired. + </p> + <p> + “You are a little behind the times—ain't you?” said Mr. Crewe, in + surprise. “How long have you been home? Hasn't anybody told you what's + going on?” + </p> + <p> + “I only came up ten days ago,” she answered, “and I'm afraid I've been + something of a recluse. What is going on?” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” he declared, “I should have thought you'd heard it, anyway. I'll + send you up a few newspapers when I get back. I'm a candidate for the + governorship.” + </p> + <p> + Victoria bit her lip, and leaned over to brush a fly from the neck of her + horse. + </p> + <p> + “You are getting on rapidly, Humphrey,” she said. “Do you think you've got—any + chance?” + </p> + <p> + “Any chance!” he repeated, with some pardonable force. “I'm sure to be + nominated. There's an overwhelming sentiment among the voters of this + State for decent politics. It didn't take me long to find that out. The + only wonder is that somebody hasn't seen it before.” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps,” she answered, giving him a steady look, “perhaps somebody has.” + </p> + <p> + One of Mr. Crewe's greatest elements of strength was his imperviousness to + this kind of a remark. + </p> + <p> + “If anybody's seen it,” he replied, “they haven't the courage of their + convictions.” Such were the workings of Mr. Crewe's mind that he had + already forgotten that first talk with Mr. Hamilton Tooting. “Not that I + want to take too much credit on myself,” he added, with becoming modesty, + “I have had some experience in the world, and it was natural that I should + get a fresh view. Are you coming down to Leith in a few days?” + </p> + <p> + “I may,” said Victoria. + </p> + <p> + “Telephone me,” said Mr. Crewe, “and if I can get off, I will. I'd like to + talk to you. You have more sense than most women I know.” + </p> + <p> + “You overwhelm me, Humphrey. Compliments sound strangely on your lips.” + </p> + <p> + “When I say a thing, I mean it,” Mr. Crewe declared. “I don't pay + compliments. I'd make it a point to take a little time off to talk to you. + You see, so many men are interested in this thing from various parts of + the State, and we are so busy organizing, that it absorbs most of my day.” + </p> + <p> + “I couldn't think of encroaching,” Victoria protested. + </p> + <p> + “That's all right—you can be a great help. I've got confidence in + your judgment. By the way,” he asked suddenly, “you haven't seen your + friend Austen Vane since you got back, have you?” + </p> + <p> + “Why do you call him my friend?” said Victoria. Mr. Crew perceived that + the exercise had heightened her colour, and the transition appealed to his + sense of beauty. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps I put it a little strongly,” he replied. “You seemed to take an + interest in him, for some reason. I suppose it's because you like new + types.” + </p> + <p> + “I like Mr. Vane very much,—and for himself,” she said quietly. “But + I haven't seen him since I came back. Nor do I think I am likely to see + him. What made you ask about him?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, he seems to be a man of some local standing, and he ought to be in + this campaign. If you happen to see him, you might mention the subject to + him. I've sent for him to come up and see me.” + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Vane doesn't seem to me to be a person one can send for like that,” + Victoria remarked judicially. “As to advising him as to what course he + should take politically—that would even be straining my friendship + for you, Humphrey. On reflection,” she added, smiling, “there may appear + to you reasons why I should not care to meddle with—politics, just + now.” + </p> + <p> + “I can't see it,” said Mr. Crewe; “you've got a mind of your own, and + you've never been afraid to use it, so far as I know. If you should see + that Vane man, just give him a notion of what I'm trying to do.” + </p> + <p> + “What are you trying to do?” inquired Victoria, sweetly. + </p> + <p> + “I'm trying to clean up this State politically,” said Mr. Crewe, “and I'm + going to do it. When you come down to Leith, I'll tell you about it, and + I'll send you the newspapers to-day. Don't be in a hurry,” he cried, + addressing over his shoulder two farmers in a wagon who had driven up a + few moments before, and who were apparently anxious to pass. “Wind her up, + Adolphe.” + </p> + <p> + The chauffeur, standing by the crank, started the engine instantly, and + the gears screamed as Mr. Crewe threw in his low speed. The five-year-old + whirled, and bolted down the road at a pace which would have seemed to + challenge a racing car; and the girl in the saddle, bending to the motion + of the horse, was seen to raise her hand in warning. + </p> + <p> + “Better stay whar you be,” shouted one of the farmers; “don't go to + follerin' her. The hoes is runnin' away.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Crewe steered his car into the Fairview entrance, and backed into the + road again, facing the other way. He had decided to go home. + </p> + <p> + “That lady can take care of herself,” he said, and started off towards + Leith, wondering how it was that Mr. Flint had not confided his recent + political troubles to his daughter. + </p> + <p> + “That hoss is ugly, sure enough,” said the farmer who had spoken before. + </p> + <p> + Victoria flew on, down the narrow road. After twenty strides she did not + attempt to disguise from herself the fact that the five-year-old was in a + frenzy of fear, and running away. Victoria had been run away with before, + and having some knowledge of the animal she rode, she did not waste her + strength by pulling on the curb, but sought rather to quiet him with her + voice, which had no effect whatever. He was beyond appeal, his head was + down, and his ears trembling backwards and straining for a sound of the + terror that pursued him. The road ran through the forest, and Victoria + reflected that the grade, on the whole, was downward to the East Tunbridge + station, where the road crossed the track and took to the hills beyond. + Once among them, she would be safe—he might run as far, as he + pleased. But could she pass the station? She held a firm rein, and tried + to keep her mind clear. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly, at a slight bend of the road, the corner of the little red + building came in sight, some hundreds of yards ahead; and, on the side + where it stood, in the clearing, was a white mass which Victoria + recognized as a pile of lumber. She saw several men on the top of the + pile, standing motionless; she heard one of them shout; the horse swerved, + and she felt herself flung violently to the left. + </p> + <p> + Her first thought, after striking, was one of self-congratulation that her + safety stirrup and habit had behaved properly. Before she could rise, a + man was leaning over her—and in the instant she had the impression + that he was a friend. Other people had had this impression of him on first + acquaintance—his size, his genial, brick-red face, and his honest + blue eyes all doubtless contributing. + </p> + <p> + “Are you hurt, Miss Flint?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “Not in the least,” she replied, springing to her feet to prove the + contrary. “What's become of my horse?” + </p> + <p> + “Two of the men have gone after him,” he said, staring at her with + undisguised but honest admiration. Whereupon he became suddenly + embarrassed, and pulled out a handkerchief the size of a table napkin. + “Let me dust you off.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you,” said Victoria, laughing, and beginning the process herself. + Her new acquaintance plied the handkerchief, his face a brighter brick-red + than ever. + </p> + <p> + “Thank God, there wasn't a freight on the siding,” he remarked, so + fervently that Victoria stole a glance at him. The dusting process + continued. + </p> + <p> + “There,” she exclaimed, at last, adjusting her stock and shaking her + skirt, “I'm ever so much obliged. It was very foolish in me to tumble off, + wasn't it?” + </p> + <p> + “It was the only thing you could have done,” he declared. “I had a good + view of it, and he flung you like a bean out of a shooter. That's a + powerful horse. I guess you're the kind that likes to take risks.” + </p> + <p> + Victoria laughed at his expressive phrase, and crossed the road, and sat + down on the edge of the lumber pile, in the shade. + </p> + <p> + “There seems to be nothing to do but wait,” she said, “and to thank you + again. Will you tell me your name?” + </p> + <p> + “I'm Tom Gaylord,” he replied. + </p> + <p> + Her colour, always so near the surface, rose a little as she regarded him. + So this was Austen Vane's particular friend, whom he had tried to put out + of his window. A Herculean task, Victoria thought, from Tom's appearance. + Tom sat down within a few feet of her. + </p> + <p> + “I've seen you a good many times, Miss Flint,” he remarked, applying the + handkerchief to his face. + </p> + <p> + “And I've seen you—once, Mr. Gaylord,” some mischievous impulse + prompted her to answer. Perhaps the impulse was more deep-seated, after + all. + </p> + <p> + “Where?” demanded Tom, promptly. + </p> + <p> + “You were engaged,” said Victoria, “in a struggle in a window on Ripton + Square. It looked, for a time,” she continued, “as if you were going to be + dropped on the roof of the porch.” + </p> + <p> + Tom gazed at her in confusion and surprise. + </p> + <p> + “You seem to be fond, too, of dangerous exercise,” she observed. + </p> + <p> + “Do you mean to say you remembered me from that?” he exclaimed. “Oh, you + know Austen Vane, don't you?” + </p> + <p> + “Does Mr. Vane acknowledge the acquaintance?” Victoria inquired. + </p> + <p> + “It's funny, but you remind me of Austen,” said Tom, grinning; “you seem + to have the same queer way of saying things that he has.” Here he was + conscious of another fit of embarrassment. “I hope you don't mind what I + say, Miss Flint.” + </p> + <p> + “Not at all,” said Victoria. She turned, and looked across the track. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose they are having a lot of trouble in catching my horse,” she + remarked. + </p> + <p> + “They'll get him,” Tom assured her, “one of those men is my manager. He + always gets what he starts out for. What were we talking about? Oh, Austen + Vane. You see, I've known him ever since I was a shaver, and I think the + world of him. If he asked me to go to South America and get him a zebra + to-morrow, I believe I'd do it.” + </p> + <p> + “That is real devotion,” said Victoria. The more she saw of young Tom, the + better she liked him, although his conversation was apt to be slightly + embarrassing. + </p> + <p> + “We've been through a lot of rows together,” Tom continued, warming to his + subject, “in school and college. You see, Austen's the kind of man who + doesn't care what anybody thinks, if he takes it into his head to do a + thing. It was a great piece of luck for me that he shot that fellow out + West, or he wouldn't be here now. You heard about that, didn't you?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Victoria, “I believe I did.” + </p> + <p> + “And yet,” said Tom, “although I'm as good a friend as he has, I never + quite got under his skin. There's some things I wouldn't talk to him + about. I've learned that. I never told him, for instance, that I saw him + out in a sleigh with you at the capital.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh,” said Victoria; and she added, “Is he ashamed of it?” + </p> + <p> + “It's not that,” replied Tom, hastily, “but I guess if he'd wanted me to + know about it, he'd have told me.” + </p> + <p> + Victoria had begun to realize that, in the few minutes which had elapsed + since she had found herself on the roadside, gazing up into young Tom's + eyes, she had somehow become quite intimate with him. + </p> + <p> + “I fancy he would have told you all there was to tell about it—if + the matter had occurred to him again,” she said, with the air of finally + dismissing a subject already too prolonged. But Tom knew nothing of the + shades and conventions of the art of conversation. + </p> + <p> + “He's never told me he knew you at all!” he exclaimed, staring at + Victoria. Apparently some of the aspects of this now significant omission + on Austen's part were beginning to dawn on Tom. + </p> + <p> + “It wasn't worth mentioning,” said Victoria, briefly, seeking for a + pretext to change the subject. + </p> + <p> + “I don't believe that,” said Tom, “you can't expect me to sit here and + look at you and believe that. How long has he known you?” + </p> + <p> + “I saw him once or twice last summer, at Leith,” said Victoria, now + wavering between laughter and exasperation. She had got herself into a + quandary indeed when she had to parry the appalling frankness of such + inquiries. + </p> + <p> + “The more you see of him, the more you'll admire him, I'll prophesy,” said + Tom. “If he'd been content to travel along the easy road, as most fellows + are, he would have been counsel for the Northeastern. Instead of that—” + here Tom halted abruptly, and turned scarlet: “I forgot,” he said, “I'm + always putting my foot in it, with ladies.” + </p> + <p> + He was so painfully confused that Victoria felt herself suffering with + him, and longed to comfort him. + </p> + <p> + “Please go on, Mr. Gaylord,” she said; “I am very much interested in my + neighbours here, and I know that a great many of them think that the + railroad meddles in politics. I've tried to find out what they think, but + it is so difficult for a woman to understand. If matters are wrong, I'm + sure my father will right them when he knows the situation. He has so much + to attend to.” She paused. Tom was still mopping his forehead. “You may + say anything you like to me, and I shall not take offence.” + </p> + <p> + Tom's admiration of her was heightened by this attitude. + </p> + <p> + “Austen wouldn't join Mr. Crewe in his little game, anyway,” he said. + “When Ham Tooting, Crewe's manager, came to him he kicked him downstairs.” + </p> + <p> + Victoria burst out laughing. + </p> + <p> + “I constantly hear of these ferocious deeds which Mr. Vane commits,” she + said, “and yet he seems exceptionally good-natured and mild-mannered.” + </p> + <p> + “That's straight—he kicked him downstairs. Served Tooting right, + too.” + </p> + <p> + “There does seem to have been an element of justice in it,” Victoria + remarked. + </p> + <p> + “You haven't seen Austen since he left his father?” Mr. Gaylord inquired. + </p> + <p> + “Left him! Where—has he gone?” + </p> + <p> + “Gone up to live with Jabe Jenney. If Austen cared anything about money, + he never would have broken with the old man, who has some little put + away.” + </p> + <p> + “Why did he leave his father?” asked Victoria, not taking the trouble now + to conceal her interest. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said Tom, “you know they never did get along. It hasn't been + Austen's fault—he's tried. After he came back from the West he + stayed here to please old Hilary, when he might have gone to New York and + made a fortune at the law, with his brains. But after Austen saw the kind + of law the old man practised he wouldn't stand for it, and got an office + of his own.” + </p> + <p> + Victoria's eyes grew serious. + </p> + <p> + “What kind of law does Hilary Vane practise?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + Tom hesitated and began to mop his forehead again. + </p> + <p> + “Please don't mind me,” Victoria pleaded. + </p> + <p> + “Well, all right,” said Tom, “I'll tell you the truth, or die for it. But + I don't want to make you-unhappy.” + </p> + <p> + “You will do me a kindness, Mr. Gaylord,” she said, “by telling me what + you believe to be true.” + </p> + <p> + There was a note in her voice which young Tom did not understand. + Afterwards, when he reflected about the matter, he wondered if she were + unhappy. + </p> + <p> + “I don't want to blame Hilary too much,” he answered. “I know Austen + don't. Hilary's grown up with that way of doing things, and in the old + days there was no other way. Hilary is the chief counsel for the + Northeastern, and he runs the Republican organization in this State for + their benefit. But Austen made up his mind that there was no reason why he + should grow up that way. He says that a lawyer should keep to his + profession, and not become a lobbyist in the interest of his clients. He + lived with the old man until the other day, because he has a real soft + spot for him. Austen put up with a good deal. And then Hilary turned loose + on him and said a lot of things he couldn't stand. Austen didn't answer, + but went up and packed his bags and made Hilary's housekeeper promise to + stay with him, or she'd have left, too. They say Hilary's sorry, now. He's + fond of Austen, but he can't get along with him.” + </p> + <p> + “Do—Do you know what they quarreled about?” asked Victoria, in a low + voice. + </p> + <p> + “This spring,” said Tom, “the Gaylord Lumber Company made Austen junior + counsel. He ran across a law the other day that nobody else seems to have + had sense enough to discover, by which we can sue the railroad for + excessive freight rates. It means a lot of money. He went right in to + Hilary and showed him the section, told him that suit was going to be + brought, and offered to resign. Hilary flew off the track—and said + if he didn't bring suit he'd publish it all over the State that Austen + started it. Galusha Hammer, our senior counsel, is sick, and I don't think + he'll ever get well. That makes Austen senior counsel. But he persuaded + old Tom, my father, not to bring this suit until after the political + campaign, until Mr. Crewe gets through with his fireworks. Hilary doesn't + know that.” + </p> + <p> + “I see,” said Victoria. + </p> + <p> + Down the hill, on the far side of the track, she perceived the two men + approaching with a horse; then she remembered the fact that she had been + thrown, and that it was her horse. She rose to her feet. + </p> + <p> + “I'm ever so much obliged to you, Mr. Gaylord,” she said; “you have done + me a great favour by—telling me these things. And thanks for letting + them catch the horse. I'm afraid I've put you to a lot of bother.” + </p> + <p> + “Not at all,” said Tom, “not at all.” He was studying her face. Its + expression troubled and moved him strangely, for he was not an analytical + person. “I didn't mean to tell you those things when I began,” he + apologized, “but you wanted to hear them.” + </p> + <p> + “I wanted to hear them,” repeated Victoria. She held out her hand to him. + </p> + <p> + “You're not going to ride home!” he exclaimed. “I'll take you up in my + buggy—it's in the station shed.” + </p> + <p> + She smiled, turned and questioned and thanked the men, examined the girths + and bridle, and stroked the five-year-old on the neck. He was wet from + mane to fetlocks. + </p> + <p> + “I don't think he'll care to run much farther,” she said. “If you'll pull + him over to the lumber pile, Mr. Gaylord, I'll mount him.” + </p> + <p> + They performed her bidding in silence, each paying her a tribute in his + thoughts. As for the five-year-old, he was quiet enough by this time. When + she was in the saddle she held out her hand once more to Tom. + </p> + <p> + “I hope we shall meet soon again,” she said, and smiling back at him, + started on her way towards Fairview. + </p> + <p> + Tom stood for a moment looking after her, while the two men indulged in + surprised comments. + </p> + <p> + “Andrews,” said young Mr. Gaylord, “just fetch my buggy and follow her + until she gets into the gate.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0018" id="link2HCH0018"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVIII. A SPIRIT IN THE WOODS + </h2> + <p> + Empires crack before they crumble, and the first cracks seem easily mended—even + as they have been mended before. A revolt in Gaul or Britain or Thrace is + little to be minded, and a prophet in Judea less. And yet into him who + sits in the seat of power a premonition of something impending gradually + creeps—a premonition which he will not acknowledge, will not define. + Yesterday, by the pointing of a finger, he created a province; to-day he + dares not, but consoles himself by saying he does not wish to point. No + antagonist worthy of his steel has openly defied him, worthy of + recognition by the opposition of a legion. But the sense of security has + been subtly and indefinably shaken. + </p> + <p> + By the strange telepathy which defies language, to the Honourable Hilary + Vane, Governor of the Province, some such unacknowledged forebodings have + likewise been communicated. A week after his conversation with Austen, on + the return of his emperor from a trip to New York, the Honourable Hilary + was summoned again to the foot of the throne, and his thoughts as he + climbed the ridges towards Fairview were not in harmony with the carols of + the birds in the depths of the forest and the joy of the bright June + weather. Loneliness he had felt before, and to its ills he had applied the + antidote of labour. The burden that sat upon his spirit to-day was not + mere loneliness; to the truth of this his soul attested, but Hilary Vane + had never listened to the promptings of his soul. He would have been + shocked if you had told him this. Did he not confess, with his eyes shut, + his sins every Sunday? Did he not publicly acknowledge his soul? + </p> + <p> + Austen Vane had once remarked that, if some keen American lawyer would + really put his mind to the evasion of the Ten Commandments, the High + Heavens themselves might be cheated. This saying would have shocked the + Honourable Hilary inexpressibly. He had never been employed by a syndicate + to draw up papers to avoid these mandates; he revered them, as he revered + the Law, which he spelled with a capital. He spelled the word Soul with a + capital likewise, and certainly no higher recognition could be desired + than this! Never in the Honourable Hilary's long, laborious, and + preeminently model existence had he realized that happiness is harmony. It + would not be true to assert that, on this wonderful June day, a glimmering + of this truth dawned upon him. Such a statement would be open to the + charge of exaggeration, and his frame of mind was pessimistic. But he had + got so far as to ask himself the question,—Cui bono? and repeated it + several times on his drive, until a verse of Scripture came, unbidden, to + his lips. “For what hate man of all his labour, and of the vexation of his + heart, wherein he hath laboured under the sun?” and “there is one event + unto all.” Austen's saying, that he had never learned how to enjoy life, + he remembered, too. What had Austen meant by that? + </p> + <p> + Hitherto Hilary Vane had never failed of self-justification in any event + which had befallen him; and while this consciousness of the rectitude of + his own attitude had not made him happier, there had been a certain grim + pleasure in it. To the fact that he had ruined, by sheer + over-righteousness, the last years of the sunny life of Sarah Austen he + had been oblivious—until to-day. The strange, retrospective mood + which had come over him this afternoon led his thoughts into strange + paths, and he found himself wondering if, after all, it had not been in + his power to make her happier. Her dryad-like face, with its sweet, + elusive smile, seemed to peer at him now wistfully out of the forest, and + suddenly a new and startling thought rose up within him—after six + and thirty years. Perhaps she had belonged in the forest! Perhaps, because + he had sought to cage her, she had pined and died! The thought gave Hilary + unwonted pain, and he strove to put it away from him; but memories such as + these, once aroused, are not easily set at rest, and he bent his head as + he recalled (with a new and significant pathos) those hopeless and pitiful + flights into the wilds she loved. + </p> + <p> + Now Austen had gone. Was there a Law behind these actions of mother and + son which he had persisted in denouncing as vagaries? Austen was a man: a + man, Hilary could not but see, who had the respect of his fellows, whose + judgment and talents were becoming recognized. Was it possible that he, + Hilary Vane, could have been one of those referred to by the Preacher? + During the week which had passed since Austen's departure the house in + Hanover Street had been haunted for Hilary. The going of his son had not + left a mere void,—that would have been pain enough. Ghosts were + there, ghosts which he could but dimly feel and see, and more than once, + in the long evenings, he had taken to the streets to avoid them. + </p> + <p> + In that week Hilary's fear of meeting his son in the street or in the + passages of the building had been equalled by a yearning to see him. Every + morning, at the hour Austen was wont to drive Pepper to the Ripton House + stables across the square, Hilary had contrived to be standing near his + windows—a little back, and out of sight. And—stranger still!—he + had turned from these glimpses to the reports of the Honourable Brush + Bascom and his associates with a distaste he had never felt before. + </p> + <p> + With some such thoughts as these Hilary Vane turned into the last straight + stretch of the avenue that led to Fairview House, with its red and white + awnings gleaming in the morning sun. On the lawn, against a white and + purple mass of lilacs and the darker background of pines, a straight and + infinitely graceful figure in white caught his eye and held it. He + recognized Victoria. She wore a simple summer gown, the soft outline of + its flounces mingling subtly with the white clusters behind her. She + turned her head at the sound of the wheels and looked at him; the distance + was not too great for a bow, but Hilary did not bow. Something in her face + deterred him from this act,—something which he himself did not + understand or define. He sought to pronounce the incident negligible. What + was the girl, or her look, to him? And yet (he found himself strangely + thinking) he had read in her eyes a trace of the riddle which had been + relentlessly pursuing him; there was an odd relation in her look to that + of Sarah Austen. During the long years he had been coming to Fairview, + even before the new house was built, when Victoria was in pinafores, he + had never understood her. When she was a child, he had vaguely recognized + in her a spirit antagonistic to his own, and her sayings had had a + disconcerting ring. And now this simple glance of hers had troubled him—only + more definitely. + </p> + <p> + It was a new experience for the Honourable Hilary to go into a business + meeting with his faculties astray. Absently he rang the stable bell, + surrendered his horse, and followed a footman to the retired part of the + house occupied by the railroad president. Entering the oak-bound sanctum, + he crossed it and took a seat by the window, merely nodding to Mr. Flint, + who was dictating a letter. Mr. Flint took his time about the letter, but + when it was finished he dismissed the stenographer with an impatient and + powerful wave of the hand—as though brushing the man bodily out of + the room. Remaining motionless until the door had closed, Mr. Flint turned + abruptly and fixed his eyes on the contemplative figure of his chief + counsel. + </p> + <p> + “Well?” he said. + </p> + <p> + “Well, Flint,” answered the Honourable Hilary. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said Mr. Flint, “that bridge over Maple River has got loosened up + so by the freshet that we have to keep freight cars on it to hold it down, + and somebody is trying to make trouble by writing a public letter to the + Railroad Commission, and calling attention to the head-on collision at + Barker's Station.” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” replied the Honourable Hilary, again, “that won't have any + influence on the Railroad Commission.” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Mr. Flint, “but it all goes to increase this confounded public + sentiment that's in the air, like smallpox. Another jackass pretends to + have kept a table of the through trains on the Sumsic division, and says + they've averaged forty-five minutes late at Edmundton. He says the through + express made the run faster thirty years ago.” + </p> + <p> + “I guess that's so,” said the Honourable Hilary, “I was counsel for that + road then. I read that letter. He says there isn't an engine on the + division that could pull his hat off, up grade.” + </p> + <p> + Neither of the two gentlemen appeared to deem this statement humorous. + </p> + <p> + “What these incendiaries don't understand,” said Mr. Flint, “is that we + have to pay dividends.” + </p> + <p> + “It's because they don't get 'em,” replied Mr. Vane, sententiously. + </p> + <p> + “The track slid into the water at Glendale,” continued Mr. Flint. “I + suppose they'll tell us we ought to rock ballast that line. You'll see the + Railroad Commission, and give 'em a sketch of a report.” + </p> + <p> + “I had a talk with Young yesterday,” said Mr. Vane, his eyes on the + stretch of lawn and forest framed by the window. For the sake of the + ignorant, it may be well to add that the Honourable Orrin Young was the + chairman of the Commission. + </p> + <p> + “And now,” said Mr. Flint, “not that this Crewe business amounts to that” + (here the railroad president snapped his fingers with the intensity of a + small pistol shot), “but what's he been doing?” + </p> + <p> + “Political advertising,” said the Honourable Hilary. + </p> + <p> + “Plenty of it, I guess,” Mr. Flint remarked acidly. “That's one thing + Tooting can't teach him. He's a natural-born genius at it.” + </p> + <p> + “Tooting can help—even at that,” answered Mr. Vane, ironically. + “They've got a sketch of so-called Northeastern methods in forty weekly + newspapers this week, with a picture of that public benefactor and martyr, + Humphrey Crewe. Here's a sample of it.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Flint waved the sample away. + </p> + <p> + “You've made a list of the newspapers that printed it?” Mr. Flint + demanded. Had he lived in another age he might have added, “Have the + malefactors burned alive in my garden.” + </p> + <p> + “Brush has seen some of 'em,” said Mr. Vane, no doubt referring to the + editors, “and I had some of 'em come to Ripton. They've got a lot to say + about the freedom of the press, and their right to take political + advertising. Crewe's matter is in the form of a despatch, and most of 'em + pointed out at the top of the editorial columns that their papers are not + responsible for despatches in the news columns. Six of 'em are out and out + for Crewe, and those fellows are honest enough.” + </p> + <p> + “Take away their passes and advertising,” said Mr. Flint. (“Off with their + heads!” said the Queen of Hearts.) + </p> + <p> + “I wouldn't do that if I were you, Flint; they might make capital out of + it. I think you'll find that five of 'em have sent their passes back, + anyway.” + </p> + <p> + “Freeman will give you some new ideas” (from the “Book of Arguments,” + although Mr. Flint did not say so) “which have occurred to me might be + distributed for editorial purposes next week. And, by the way, what have + you done about that brilliant Mr. Coombes of the 'Johnstown Ray,' who says + 'the Northeastern Railroads give us a pretty good government'?” + </p> + <p> + The Honourable Hilary shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “Too much zeal,” he observed. “I guess he won't do it again.” + </p> + <p> + For a while after that they talked of strictly legal matters, which the + chief counsel produced in order out of his bag. But when these were + finally disposed of, Mr. Flint led the conversation back to the Honourable + Humphrey Crewe, who stood harmless—to be sure—like a bull on + the track which it might be unwise to run over. + </p> + <p> + “He doesn't amount to a soap bubble in a gale,” Mr. Flint declared + contemptuously. “Sometimes I think we made a great mistake to notice him. + </p> + <p> + “We haven't noticed him,” said Mr. Vane; “the newspapers have.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Flint brushed this distinction aside. + </p> + <p> + “That,” he said irritably, “and letting Tooting go—” + </p> + <p> + The Honourable Hilary's eyes began to grow red. In former days Mr. Flint + had not often questioned his judgment. + </p> + <p> + “There's one thing more I wanted to mention to you,” said the chief + counsel. “In past years I have frequently drawn your attention to that + section of the act of consolidation which declares that rates and fares + existing at the time of its passage shall not be increased.” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said Mr. Flint, impatiently, “well, what of it?” + </p> + <p> + “Only this,” replied the Honourable Hilary, “you disregarded my advice, + and the rates on many things are higher than they were.” + </p> + <p> + “Upon my word, Vane,” said Mr. Flint, “I wish you'd chosen some other day + to croak. What do you want me to do? Put all the rates back because this + upstart politician Crewe is making a noise? Who's going to dig up that + section?” + </p> + <p> + “Somebody has dug it up,” said Mr. Vane: + </p> + <p> + This was the last straw. + </p> + <p> + “Speak out, man!” he cried. “What are you leading up to?” + </p> + <p> + “Just this,” answered the Honourable Hilary; “that the Gaylord Lumber + Company are going to bring suit under that section.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Flint rose, thrust his hands in his pockets, and paced the room twice. + </p> + <p> + “Have they got a case?” he demanded. + </p> + <p> + “It looks a little that way tome,” said Mr. Vane. “I'm not prepared to + give a definite opinion as yet.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Flint measured the room twice again. + </p> + <p> + “Did that old fool Hammer stumble on to this?” + </p> + <p> + “Hammer's sick,” said Mr. Vane; “they say he's got Bright's disease. My + son discovered that section.” + </p> + <p> + There was a certain ring of pride in the Honourable Hilary's voice, and a + lifting of the head as he pronounced the words “my son,” which did not + escape Mr. Flint. The railroad president walked slowly to the arm of the + chair in which his chief counsel was seated, and stood looking down at + him. But the Honourable Hilary appeared unconscious of what was impending. + </p> + <p> + “Your son!” exclaimed Mr. Flint. “So your son, the son of the man who has + been my legal adviser and confidant and friend for thirty years, is going + to join the Crewel and Tootings in their assaults on established decency + and order! He's out for cheap political preferment, too, is he? By + thunder! I thought that he had some such thing in his mind when he came in + here and threw his pass in my face and took that Meader suit. I don't mind + telling you that he's the man I've been afraid of all along. He's got a + head on him—I saw that at the start. I trusted to you to control + him, and this is how you do it.” + </p> + <p> + It was characteristic of the Honourable Hilary, when confronting an angry + man, to grow cooler as the other's temper increased. + </p> + <p> + “I don't want to control him,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “I guess you couldn't,” retorted Mr. Flint. + </p> + <p> + “That's a better way of putting it,” replied the Honourable Hilary, “I + couldn't.” + </p> + <p> + The chief counsel for the Northeastern Railroads got up and went to the + window, where he stood for some time with his back turned to the + president. Then Hilary Vane faced about. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Flint,” he began, in his peculiar deep and resonant voice, “you've + said some things to-day that I won't forget. I want to tell you, first of + all, that I admire my son.” + </p> + <p> + “I thought so,” Mr. Flint interrupted. + </p> + <p> + “And more than that,” the Honourable Hilary continued, “I prophesy that + the time will come when you'll admire him. Austen Vane never did an + underhanded thing in his life—or committed a mean action. He's be'n + wild, but he's always told me the truth. I've done him injustice a good + many times, but I won't stand up and listen to another man do him + injustice.” Here he paused, and picked up his bag. “I'm going down to + Ripton to write out my resignation as counsel for your roads, and as soon + as you can find another man to act, I shall consider it accepted.” + </p> + <p> + It is difficult to put down on paper the sensations of the president of + the Northeastern Railroads as he listened to these words from a man with + whom he had been in business relations for over a quarter of a century, a + man upon whose judgment he had always relied implicitly, who had been a + strong fortress in time of trouble. Such sentences had an incendiary, + blasphemous ring on Hilary Vane's lips—at first. It was as if the + sky had fallen, and the Northeastern had been wiped out of existence. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Flint's feelings were, in a sense, akin to those of a traveller by sea + who wakens out of a sound sleep in his cabin, with peculiar and unpleasant + sensations, which he gradually discovers are due to cold water, and he + realizes that the boat on which he is travelling is sinking. + </p> + <p> + The Honourable Hilary, with his bag, was halfway to the door, when Mr. + Flint crossed the room in three strides and seized him by the arm. + </p> + <p> + “Hold on, Vane,” he said, speaking with some difficulty; “I'm—I'm a + little upset this morning, and my temper got the best of me. You and I + have been good friends for too many years for us to part this way. Sit + down a minute, for God's sake, and let's cool off. I didn't intend to say + what I did. I apologize.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Flint dropped his counsel's arm, and pulled out a handkerchief, and + mopped his face. “Sit down, Hilary,” he said. + </p> + <p> + The Honourable Hilary's tight lips trembled. Only three or four times in + their long friendship had the president made use of his first name. + </p> + <p> + “You wouldn't leave me in the lurch now, Hilary,” Mr. Flint continued, + “when all this nonsense is in the air? Think of the effect such an + announcement would have! Everybody knows and respects you, and we can't do + without your advice and counsel. But I won't put it on that ground. I'd + never forgive myself, as long as I lived, if I lost one of my oldest and + most valued personal friends in this way.” + </p> + <p> + The Honourable Hilary looked at Mr. Flint, and sat down. He began to cut a + piece of Honey Dew, but his hand shook. It was difficult, as we know, for + him to give expression to his feelings. + </p> + <p> + “All right,” he said. + </p> + <p> + Half an hour later Victoria, from under the awning of the little balcony + in front of her mother's sitting room, saw her father come out bareheaded + into the sun and escort the Honourable Hilary Vane to his buggy. This was + an unwonted proceeding. + </p> + <p> + Victoria loved to sit in that balcony, a book lying neglected in her lap, + listening to the summer sounds: the tinkle of distant cattle bells, the + bass note of a hurrying bee, the strangely compelling song of the + hermit-thrush, which made her breathe quickly; the summer wind, stirring + wantonly, was prodigal with perfumes gathered from the pines and the sweet + June clover in the fields and the banks of flowers; in the distance, + across the gentle foreground of the hills, Sawanec beckoned—did + Victoria but raise her eyes!—to a land of enchantment. + </p> + <p> + The appearance of her father and Hilary had broken her reverie, and a new + thought, like a pain, had clutched her. The buggy rolled slowly down the + drive, and Mr. Flint, staring after it a moment, went in the house. After + a few minutes he emerged again, an old felt hat on his head which he was + wont to wear in the country and a stick in his hand. Without raising his + eyes, he started slowly across the lawn; and to Victoria, leaning forward + intently over the balcony rail, there seemed an unwonted lack of purpose + in his movements. Usually he struck out briskly in the direction of the + pastures where his prize Guernseys were feeding, stopping on the way to + pick up the manager of his farm. There are signs, unknown to men, which + women read, and Victoria felt her heart beating, as she turned and entered + the sitting room through the French window. A trained nurse was softly + closing the door of the bedroom on the right. + </p> + <p> + “Mrs. Flint is asleep,” she said. + </p> + <p> + “I am going out for a little while, Miss Oliver,” Victoria answered, and + the nurse returned a gentle smile of understanding. + </p> + <p> + Victoria, descending the stairs, hastily pinned on a hat which she kept in + the coat closet, and hurried across the lawn in the direction Mr. Flint + had taken. Reaching the pine grove, thinned by a famous landscape + architect, she paused involuntarily to wonder again at the ultramarine of + Sawanec through the upright columns of the trunks under the high canopy of + boughs. The grove was on a plateau, which was cut on the side nearest the + mountain by the line of a gray stone wall, under which the land fell away + sharply. Mr. Flint was seated on a bench, his hands clasped across his + stick, and as she came softly over the carpet of the needles he did not + hear her until she stood beside him. + </p> + <p> + “You didn't tell me that you were going for a walk,” she said + reproachfully. + </p> + <p> + He started, and dropped his stick. She stooped quickly, picked it up for + him, and settled herself at his side. + </p> + <p> + “I—I didn't expect to go, Victoria,” he answered. + </p> + <p> + “You see,” she said, “it's useless to try to slip away. I saw you from the + balcony.” + </p> + <p> + “How's your mother feeling?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “She's asleep. She seems better to me since she's come back to Fairview.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Flint stared at the mountain with unseeing eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Father,” said Victoria, “don't you think you ought to stay up here at + least a week, and rest? I think so.” + </p> + <p> + “No,” he said, “no. There's a directors' meeting of a trust company + to-morrow which I have to attend. I'm not tired.” + </p> + <p> + Victoria shook her head, smiling at him with serious eyes. + </p> + <p> + “I don't believe you know when you are tired,” she declared. “I can't see + the good of all these directors' meetings. Why don't you retire, and live + the rest of your life in peace? You've got—money enough, and even if + you haven't,” she added, with the little quiver of earnestness that + sometimes came into her voice, “we could sell this big house and go back + to the farmhouse to live. We used to be so happy there.” + </p> + <p> + He turned abruptly, and fixed upon her a steadfast, searching stare that + held, nevertheless, a strange tenderness in it. + </p> + <p> + “You don't care for all this, do you, Victoria?” he demanded, waving his + stick to indicate the domain of Fairview. + </p> + <p> + She laughed gently, and raised her eyes to the green roof of the needles. + </p> + <p> + “If we could only keep the pine grove!” she sighed. “Do you remember what + good times we had in the farmhouse, when you and I used to go off for + whole days together?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Mr. Flint, “yes.” + </p> + <p> + “We don't do that any more,” said Victoria. “It's only a little drive and + a walk, now and then. And they seem to be growing—scarcer.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Flint moved uneasily, and made an attempt to clear his voice. + </p> + <p> + “I know it,” he said, and further speech seemingly failed him. Victoria + had the greater courage of the two. + </p> + <p> + “Why don't we?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “I've often thought of it,” he replied, still seeking his words with + difficulty. “I find myself with more to do every year, Victoria, instead + of less.” + </p> + <p> + “Then why don't you give it up?” + </p> + <p> + “Why?” he asked, “why? Sometimes I wish with my whole soul I could give it + up. I've always said that you had more sense than most women, but even you + could not understand.” + </p> + <p> + “I could understand,” said Victoria. + </p> + <p> + He threw at her another glance,—a ring in her words proclaimed their + truth in spite of his determined doubt. In her eyes—had he but known + it!—was a wisdom that exceeded his. + </p> + <p> + “You don't realize what you're saying,” he exclaimed; “I can't leave the + helm.” + </p> + <p> + “Isn't it,” she said, “rather the power that is so hard to relinquish?” + </p> + <p> + The feelings of Augustus Flint when he heard this question were of a + complex nature. It was the second time that day he had been shocked,—the + first being when Hilary Vane had unexpectedly defended his son. The word + Victoria had used, power, had touched him on the quick. What had she meant + by it? Had she been his wife and not his daughter, he would have flown + into a rage. Augustus Flint was not a man given to the psychological + amusement of self-examination; he had never analyzed his motives. He had + had little to do with women, except Victoria. The Rose of Sharon knew him + as the fountainhead from which authority and money flowed, but Victoria, + since her childhood, had been his refuge from care, and in the haven of + her companionship he had lost himself for brief moments of his life. She + was the one being he really loved, with whom he consulted on such affairs + of importance as he felt to be within her scope and province,—the + cattle, the men on the place outside of the household, the wisdom of + buying the Baker farm; bequests to charities, paintings, the library; and + recently he had left to her judgment the European baths and the kind of + treatment which her mother had required. Victoria had consulted with the + physicians in Paris, and had made these decisions herself. From a child + she had never shown a disposition to evade responsibility. + </p> + <p> + To his intimate business friends, Mr. Flint was in the habit of speaking + of her as his right-hand man, but she was circumscribed by her sex,—or + rather by Mr. Flint's idea of her sex,—and it never occurred to him + that she could enter into the larger problems of his life. For this reason + he had never asked himself whether such a state of affairs would be + desirable. In reality it was her sympathy he craved, and such an + interpretation of himself as he chose to present to her. + </p> + <p> + So her question was a shock. He suddenly beheld his daughter transformed, + a new personality who had been thinking, and thinking along paths which he + had never cared to travel. + </p> + <p> + “The power!” he repeated. “What do you mean by that, Victoria?” + </p> + <p> + She sat for a moment on the end of the bench, gazing at him with a + questioning, searching look which he found disconcerting. What had + happened to his daughter? He little guessed the tumult in her breast. She + herself could not fully understand the strange turn the conversation had + taken towards the gateway of the vital things. + </p> + <p> + “It is natural for men to love power, isn't it?” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose so,” said Mr. Flint, uneasily. “I don't know what you're + driving at, Victoria.” + </p> + <p> + “You control the lives and fortunes of a great many people.” + </p> + <p> + “That's just it,” answered Mr. Flint, with a dash at this opening; “my + responsibilities are tremendous. I can't relinquish them.” + </p> + <p> + “There is no—younger man to take your place? Not that I mean you are + old, father,” she continued, “but you have worked very hard all your life, + and deserve a holiday the rest of it.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know of any younger man,” said Mr. Flint. “I don't mean to say + I'm the only person in the world who can safeguard the stockholders' + interests in the Northeastern. But I know the road and its problems. I + don't understand this from you, Victoria. It doesn't sound like you. And + as for letting go the helm now,” he added, with a short laugh tinged with + bitterness, “I'd be posted all over the country as a coward.” + </p> + <p> + “Why?” asked Victoria, in the same quiet way. + </p> + <p> + “Why? Because a lot of discontented and disappointed people who have made + failures of their lives are trying to give me as much trouble as they + can.” + </p> + <p> + “Are you sure they are all disappointed and discontented, father?” she + said. + </p> + <p> + “What,” exclaimed Mr. Flint, “you ask me that question? You, my own + daughter, about people who are trying to make me out a rascal!” + </p> + <p> + “I don't think they are trying to make you out a rascal—at least + most of them are not,” said Victoria. “I don't think the—what you + might call the personal aspect enters in with the honest ones.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Flint was inexpressibly amazed. He drew a long breath. + </p> + <p> + “Who are the honest ones?” he cried. “Do you mean to say that you, my own + daughter, are defending these charlatans?” + </p> + <p> + “Listen, father,” said Victoria. “I didn't mean to worry you, I didn't + mean to bring up that subject to-day. Come—let's go for a walk and + see the new barn.” + </p> + <p> + But Mr. Flint remained firmly planted on the bench. + </p> + <p> + “Then you did intend to bring up the subject—some day?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Victoria. She sat down again. “I have often wanted to hear—your + side of it.” + </p> + <p> + “Whose side have you heard?” demanded Mr. Flint. + </p> + <p> + A crimson flush crept into her cheek, but her father was too disturbed to + notice it. + </p> + <p> + “You know,” she said gently, “I go about the country a good deal, and I + hear people talking,—farmers, and labourers, and people in the + country stores who don't know that I'm your daughter.” + </p> + <p> + “What do they say?” asked Mr. Flint, leaning forward eagerly and + aggressively. + </p> + <p> + Victoria hesitated, turning over the matter in her mind. + </p> + <p> + “You understand, I am merely repeating what they say—” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes,” he interrupted, “I want to know how far this thing has gone + among them.” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” continued Victoria, looking at him bravely, “as nearly as I can + remember their argument it is this: that the Northeastern Railroads + control the politics of the State for their own benefit. That you appoint + the governors and those that go to the Legislature, and that—Hilary + Vane gets them elected. They say that he manages a political machine—that's + the right word, isn't it?—for you. And that no laws can be passed of + which you do not approve. And they say that the politicians whom Hilary + Vane commands, and the men whom they put into office are all beholden to + the railroad, and are of a sort which good citizens cannot support. They + say that the railroad has destroyed the people's government.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Flint, for the moment forgetting or ignoring the charges, glanced at + her in astonishment. The arraignment betrayed an amount of thought on the + subject which he had not suspected. + </p> + <p> + “Upon my word, Victoria,” he said, “you ought to take the stump for + Humphrey Crewe.” + </p> + <p> + She reached out with a womanly gesture, and laid her hand upon his. + </p> + <p> + “I am only telling you—what I hear,” she said. + </p> + <p> + “Won't you explain to me the way you look at it? These people don't all + seem to be dishonest men or charlatans. Some of them, I know, are honest.” + And her colour rose again. + </p> + <p> + “Then they are dupes and fools,” Mr. Flint declared vehemently. “I don't + know how to explain it to you the subject is too vast, too far-reaching. + One must have had some business experience to grasp it. I don't mean to + say you're not intelligent, but I'm at a loss where to begin with you. + Looked at from their limited point of view, it would seem as if they had a + case. I don't mean your friend, Humphrey Crewe—it's anything to get + office with him. Why, he came up here and begged me—” + </p> + <p> + “I wasn't thinking of Humphrey Crewe,” said Victoria. Mr. Flint gave an + ejaculation of distaste. + </p> + <p> + “He's no more of a reformer than I am. And now we've got that wild son of + Hilary Vane's—the son of one of my oldest friends and associates—making + trouble. He's bitten with this thing, too, and he's got some brains in his + head. Why,” exclaimed Mr. Flint, stopping abruptly and facing his + daughter, “you know him! He's the one who drove you home that evening from + Crewe's party.” + </p> + <p> + “I remember,” Victoria faltered, drawing her hand away. + </p> + <p> + “I wasn't very civil to him that night, but I've always been on the + lookout for him. I sent him a pass once, and he came up here and gave me + as insolent a talking to as I ever had in my life.” + </p> + <p> + How well Victoria recalled that first visit, and how she had wondered + about the cause of it! So her father and Austen Vane had quarrelled from + the first. + </p> + <p> + “I'm sure he didn't mean to be insolent,” she said, in a low voice. “He + isn't at all that sort.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know what sort he is, except that he isn't my sort,” Mr. Flint + retorted, intent upon the subject which had kindled his anger earlier in + the day. “I don't pretend to understand him. He could probably have been + counsel for the road if he had behaved decently. Instead, he starts in + with suits against us. He's hit upon something now.” + </p> + <p> + The president of the Northeastern dug savagely into the ground with his + stick, and suddenly perceived that his daughter had her face turned away + from his, towards the mountain. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I won't bore you with that.” + </p> + <p> + She turned with a look in her eyes that bewildered him. + </p> + <p> + “You're not—boring me,” she said. + </p> + <p> + “I didn't intend to go into all that,” he explained more calmly, “but the + last few days have been trying, we've got to expect the wind to blow from + all directions.” + </p> + <p> + Victoria smiled at him faintly. + </p> + <p> + “I have told you,” she said, “that what you need is a trip abroad. Perhaps + some day you will remember it.” + </p> + <p> + “Maybe I'll go in the autumn,” he answered, smiling back at her. “These + little flurries don't amount to anything more than mosquito-bites—only + mosquitoes are irritating. You and I understand each other, Victoria, and + now listen. I'll give you the broad view of this subject, the view I've + got to take, and I've lived in the world and seen more of it than some + folks who think they know it all. I am virtually the trustee for thousands + of stockholders, many of whom are widows and orphans. These people are + innocent; they rely on my ability, and my honesty, for their incomes. Few + men who have not had experience in railroad management know one-tenth of + the difficulties and obstructions encountered by a railroad president who + strives to do his duty by the road. My business is to run the Northeastern + as economically as is consistent with good service and safety, and to give + the stockholders the best return for their money. I am the steward—and + so long as I am the steward,” he exclaimed, “I'm going to do what I think + is right, taking into consideration all the difficulties that confront + me.” + </p> + <p> + He got up and took a turn or two on the pine-needles. Victoria regarded + him in silence. He appeared to her at that moment the embodiment of the + power he represented. Force seemed to emanate from him, and she understood + more clearly than ever how, from a poor boy on an obscure farm in Truro, + he had risen to his present height. + </p> + <p> + “I don't say the service is what it should be,” he went on, “but give me + time—give me time. With all this prosperity in the country we can't + handle the freight. We haven't got cars enough, tracks enough, engines + enough. I won't go into that with you. But I do expect you to understand + this: that politicians are politicians; they have always been corrupt as + long as I have known them, and in my opinion they always will be. The + Northeastern is the largest property holder in the State, pays the biggest + tax, and has the most at stake. The politicians could ruin us in a single + session of the Legislature—and what's more, they would do it. We'd + have to be paying blackmail all the time to prevent measures that would + compel us to go out of business. This is a fact, and not a theory. What + little influence I exert politically I have to maintain in order to + protect the property of my stockholders from annihilation. It isn't to be + supposed,” he concluded, “that I'm going to see the State turned over to a + man like Humphrey Crewe. I wish to Heaven that this and every other State + had a George Washington for governor and a majority of Robert Morrises in + the Legislature. If they exist, in these days, the people won't elect 'em—that's + all. The kind of man the people will elect, if you let 'em alone, is—a + man who brings in a bill and comes to you privately and wants you to buy + him off.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, father,” Victoria cried, “I can't believe that of the people I see + about here! They seem so kind and honest and high-principled.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Flint gave a short laugh. + </p> + <p> + “They're dupes, I tell you. They're at the mercy of any political schemer + who thinks it worth his while to fool 'em. Take Leith, for instance. + There's a man over there who has controlled every office in that town for + twenty-five years or more. He buys and sells votes and credentials like + cattle. His name is Job Braden.” + </p> + <p> + “Why,” said Victoria, “I saw him at Humphrey Crewe's garden-party.” + </p> + <p> + “I guess you did,” said Mr. Flint, “and I guess Humphrey Crewe saw him + before he went.” + </p> + <p> + Victoria was silent, the recollection of the talk between Mr. Tooting and + Mr. Crewe running through her mind, and Mr. Tooting's saying that he had + done “dirty things” for the Northeastern. She felt that this was something + she could not tell her father, nor could she answer his argument with what + Tom Gaylord had said. She could not, indeed, answer Mr. Flint's argument + at all; the subject, as he had declared, being too vast for her. And + moreover, as she well knew, Mr. Flint was a man whom other men could not + easily answer; he bore them down, even as he had borne her down. + Involuntarily her mind turned to Austen, and she wondered what he had + said; she wondered how he would have answered her father—whether he + could have answered him. And she knew not what to think. Could it be + right, in a position of power and responsibility, to acknowledge evil and + deal with it as evil? That was, in effect, the gist of Mr. Flint's + contention. She did not know. She had never (strangely enough, she + thought) sought before to analyze the ethical side of her father's + character. One aspect of him she had shared with her mother, that he was a + tower of defence and strength, and that his name alone had often been + sufficient to get difficult things done. + </p> + <p> + Was he right in this? And were his opponents charlatans, or dupes, or + idealists who could never be effective? Mr. Crewe wanted an office; Tom + Gaylord had a suit against the road, and Austen Vane was going to bring + that suit! What did she really know of Austen Vane? But her soul cried out + treason at this, and she found herself repeating, with intensity, “I + believe in him! I believe in him!” She would have given worlds to have + been able to stand up before her father and tell him that Austen would not + bring the suit at this time that Austen had not allowed his name to be + mentioned for office in this connection, and had spurned Mr. Crewe's + advances. But she had not seen Austen since February. + </p> + <p> + What was his side of it? He had never told her, and she respected his + motives—yet, what was his side? Fresh from the inevitably deep + impressions which her father's personality had stamped upon her, she + wondered if Austen could cope with the argument before which she had been + so helpless. + </p> + <p> + The fact that she made of each of these two men the embodiment of a + different and opposed idea did not occur to Victoria until that afternoon. + Unconsciously, each had impersonated the combatants in a struggle which + was going on in her own breast. Her father himself, instinctively, had + chosen Austen Vane for his antagonist without knowing that she had an + interest in him. Would Mr. Flint ever know? Or would the time come when + she would be forced to take a side? The blood mounted to her temples as + she put the question from her. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0019" id="link2HCH0019"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIX. MR. JABE JENNEY ENTERTAINS + </h2> + <p> + Mr. Flint had dropped the subject with his last remark, nor had Victoria + attempted to pursue it. Bewildered and not a little depressed (a new + experience for her), she had tried to hide her feelings. He, too, was + harassed and tired, and she had drawn him away from the bench and through + the pine woods to the pastures to look at his cattle and the model barn he + was building for them. At half-past three, in her runabout, she had driven + him to the East Tunbridge station, where he had taken the train for New + York. He had waved her a good-by from the platform, and smiled: and for a + long time, as she drove through the silent roads, his words and his manner + remained as vivid as though he were still by her side. He was a man who + had fought and conquered, and who fought on for the sheer love of it. + </p> + <p> + It was a blue day in the hill country. At noon the clouds had crowned + Sawanec—a sure sign of rain; the rain had come and gone, a June + downpour, and the overcast sky lent (Victoria fancied) to the country-side + a new atmosphere. The hills did not look the same. It was the kind of a + day when certain finished country places are at their best—or rather + seem best to express their meaning; a day for an event; a day set + strangely apart with an indefinable distinction. Victoria recalled such + days in her youth when weddings or garden-parties had brought canopies + into service, or news had arrived to upset the routine of the household. + Raindrops silvered the pines, and the light winds shook them down on the + road in a musical shower. + </p> + <p> + Victoria was troubled, as she drove, over a question which had recurred to + her many times since her talk that morning: had she been hypocritical in + not telling her father that she had seen more of Austen Vane than she had + implied by her silence? For many years Victoria had chosen her own + companions; when the custom had begun, her mother had made a protest which + Mr. Flint had answered with a laugh; he thought Victoria's judgment better + than his wife's. Ever since that time the Rose of Sharon had taken the + attitude of having washed her hands of responsibility for a course which + must inevitably lead to ruin. She discussed some of Victoria's + acquaintances with Mrs. Pomfret and other intimates; and Mrs. Pomfret had + lost no time in telling Mrs. Flint about her daughter's sleigh-ride at the + State capital with a young man from Ripton who seemed to be seeing + entirely too much of Victoria. Mrs. Pomfret had marked certain danger + signs, and as a conscientious woman was obliged to speak of them. Mrs. + Pomfret did not wish to see Victoria make a mesalliance. + </p> + <p> + “My dear Fanny,” Mrs. Flint had cried, lifting herself from the lace + pillows, “what do you expect me to do especially when I have nervous + prostration? I've tried to do my duty by Victoria—goodness knows—to + bring her up—among the sons and daughters of the people who are my + friends. They tell me that she has temperament—whatever that may be. + I'm sure I never found out, except that the best thing to do with people + who have it is to let them alone and pray for them. When we go abroad I + like the Ritz and Claridge's and that new hotel in Rome. I see my friends + there. Victoria, if you please, likes the little hotels in the narrow + streets where you see nobody, and where you are most uncomfortable.” (Miss + Oliver, it's time for those seven drops.) “As I was saying, Victoria's + enigmatical hopeless, although a French comtesse who wouldn't look at + anybody at the baths this spring became wild about her, and a certain type + of elderly English peer always wants to marry her. (I suppose I do look + pale to-day.) Victoria loves art, and really knows something about it. She + adores to potter around those queer places abroad where you see strange + English and Germans and Americans with red books in their hands. What am I + to do about this young man of whom you speak—whatever his name is? I + suppose Victoria will marry him—it would be just like her. But what + can I do, Fanny? I can't manage her, and it's no use going to her father. + He would only laugh. Augustus actually told me once there was no such + thing as social position in this country!” + </p> + <p> + “American men of affairs,” Mrs. Pomfret judicially replied, “are too busy + to consider position. They make it, my dear, as a by-product.” Mrs. + Pomfret smiled, and mentally noted this aptly technical witticism for use + again. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose they do,” assented the Rose of Sharon, “and their daughters + sometimes squander it, just as their sons squander their money.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm not at all sure that Victoria is going to squander it,” was Mrs. + Pomfret's comforting remark. “She is too much of a personage, and she has + great wealth behind her. I wish Alice were more like her, in some ways. + Alice is so helpless, she has to be prodded and prompted continually. I + can't leave her for a moment. And when she is married, I'm going into a + sanatorium for six months.” + </p> + <p> + “I hear,” said Mrs. Flint, “that Humphrey Crewe is quite epris.” + </p> + <p> + “Poor dear Humphrey!” exclaimed Mrs. Pomfret, “he can think of nothing + else but politics.” + </p> + <p> + But we are not to take up again, as yet, the deeds of the crafty Ulysses. + In order to relate an important conversation between Mrs. Pomfret and the + Rose of Sharon, we have gone back a week in this history, and have left + Victoria—absorbed in her thoughts—driving over a wood road of + many puddles that led to the Four Corners, near Avalon. The road climbed + the song-laden valley of a brook, redolent now with scents of which the + rain had robbed the fern, but at length Victoria reached an upland where + the young corn was springing from the black furrows that followed the + contours of the hillsides, where the big-eyed cattle lay under the heavy + maples and oaks or gazed at her across the fences. + </p> + <p> + Victoria drew up in front of an unpainted farm-house straggling beside the + road, a farm-house which began with the dignity of fluted pilasters and + ended in a tumble-down open shed filled with a rusty sleigh and a hundred + nondescript articles—some of which seemed to be moving. Intently + studying this phenomenon from her runabout, she finally discovered that + the moving objects were children; one of whom, a little girl, came out and + stared at her. + </p> + <p> + “How do you do, Mary?” said Victoria. “Isn't your name Mary?” + </p> + <p> + The child nodded. + </p> + <p> + “I remember you,” she said; “you're the rich lady, mother met at the + party, that got father a job.” + </p> + <p> + Victoria smiled. And such was the potency of the smile that the child + joined in it. + </p> + <p> + “Where's brother?” asked Victoria. “He must be quite grown up since we + gave him lemonade.” + </p> + <p> + Mary pointed to the woodshed. + </p> + <p> + “O dear!” exclaimed Victoria, leaping out of the runabout and hitching her + horse, “aren't you afraid some of those sharp iron things will fall on + him?” She herself rescued brother from what seemed untimely and certain + death, and set him down in safety in the middle of the grass plot. He + looked up at her with the air of one whose dignity has been irretrievably + injured, and she laughed as she reached down and pulled his nose. Then his + face, too, became wreathed in smiles. + </p> + <p> + “Mary, how old are you?” + </p> + <p> + “Seven, ma'am.” + </p> + <p> + “And I'm five,” Mary's sister chimed in. + </p> + <p> + “I want you to promise me,” said Victoria, “that you won't let brother + play in that shed. And the very next time I come I'll bring you both the + nicest thing I can think of.” + </p> + <p> + Mary began to dance. + </p> + <p> + “We'll promise, we'll promise!” she cried for both, and at this juncture + Mrs. Fitch, who had run from the washtub to get into her Sunday waist, + came out of the door. + </p> + <p> + “So you hain't forgot me!” she exclaimed. “I was almost afeard you'd + forgot me.” + </p> + <p> + “I've been away,” said Victoria, gently taking the woman's hand and + sitting down on the doorstep. + </p> + <p> + “Don't set there,” said Mrs. Fitch; “come into the parlour. You'll dirty + your dress—Mary!” This last in admonition. + </p> + <p> + “Let her stay where she is,” said Victoria, putting her arm around the + child. “The dress washes, and it's so nice outside.” + </p> + <p> + “You rich folks certainly do have strange notions,” declared Mrs. Fitch, + fingering the flounce on Victoria's skirt, which formed the subject of + conversation for the next few minutes. + </p> + <p> + “How are you getting on?” Victoria asked at length. + </p> + <p> + A look of pain came into the woman's eyes. + </p> + <p> + “You've be'n so good to us, and done so much gettin' Eben a job on your + father's place, that I don't feel as if I ought to lie to you. He done it + again—on Saturday night. First time in three months. The manager up + at Fairview don't know it. Eben was all right Monday.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm sorry,” said Victoria, simply. “Was it bad?” + </p> + <p> + “It might have be'n. Young Mr. Vane is stayin' up at Jabe Jenney's—you + know, the first house as you turn off the hill road. Mr. Vane heard some + way what you'd done for us, and he saw Eben in Ripton Saturday night, and + made him get into his buggy and come home. I guess he had a time with + Eben. Mr. Vane, he came around here on Sunday, and gave him as stiff a + talkin' to as he ever got, I guess. He told Eben he'd ought to be ashamed + of himself goin' back on folks who was tryin' to help him pay his + mortgage. And I'll say this for Eben, he was downright ashamed. He told + Mr. Vane he could lick him if he caught him drunk again, and Mr. Vane said + he would. My, what a pretty colour you've got to-day.” + </p> + <p> + Victoria rose. “I'm going to send you down some washing,” she said. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Fitch insisted upon untying the horse, while Victoria renewed her + promises to the children. + </p> + <p> + There were two ways of going back to Fairview,—a long and a short + way,—and the long way led by Jabe Jenney's farm. Victoria came to + the fork in the road, paused,—and took the long way. Several times + after this, she pulled her horse down to a walk, and was apparently on the + point of turning around again: a disinterested observer in a farm wagon, + whom she passed, thought that she had missed her road. “The first house + after you turn off the hill road,” Mrs. Fitch had said. She could still, + of course, keep on the hill road, but that would take her to Weymouth, and + she would never get home. + </p> + <p> + It is useless to go into the reasons for this act of Victoria's. She did + not know them herself. The nearer Victoria got to Mr. Jenney's, the more + she wished herself back at the forks. Suppose Mrs. Fitch told him of her + visit! Perhaps she could pass the Jenneys' unnoticed. The chances of this, + indeed, seemed highly favourable, and it was characteristic of her sex + that she began to pray fervently to this end. Then she turned off the hill + road, feeling as though she had but to look back to see the smoke of the + burning bridges. + </p> + <p> + Victoria remembered the farm now; for Mr. Jabe Jenney, being a person of + importance in the town of Leith, had a house commensurate with his estate. + The house was not large, but its dignity was akin to Mr. Jenney's + position: it was painted a spotless white, and not a shingle or a nail was + out of place. Before it stood the great trees planted by Mr. Jenney's + ancestors, which Victoria and other people had often paused on their + drives to admire, and on the hillside was a little, old-fashioned flower + garden; lilacs clustered about the small-paned windows, and a bitter-sweet + clung to the roof and pillars of the porch. These details of the place + (which she had never before known as Mr. Jenney's) flashed into Victoria's + mind before she caught sight of the great trees themselves looming against + the sombre blue-black of the sky: the wind, rising fitfully, stirred the + leaves with a sound like falling waters, and a great drop fell upon her + cheek. Victoria raised her eyes in alarm, and across the open spaces, + toward the hills which piled higher and higher yet against the sky, was a + white veil of rain. She touched with her whip the shoulder of her horse, + recalling a farm a quarter of a mile beyond—she must not be caught + here! + </p> + <p> + More drops followed, and the great trees seemed to reach out to her a + protecting shelter. She spoke to the horse. Beyond the farm-house, on the + other side of the road, was a group of gray, slate-shingled barns, and + here two figures confronted her. One was that of the comfortable, + middle-aged Mr. Jenney himself, standing on the threshold of the barn, and + laughing heartily, and crying: “Hang on to him That's right—get him + by the nose!” + </p> + <p> + The person thus addressed had led a young horse to water at the spring + which bubbled out of a sugar-kettle hard by; and the horse, quivering, had + barely touched his nostrils to the water when he reared backward, jerking + the halter-rope taut. Then followed, with bewildering rapidity, a series + of manoeuvres on the part of the horse to get away, and on the part of the + person to prevent this, and inasmuch as the struggle took place in the + middle of the road, Victoria had to stop. By the time the person had got + the horse by the nose,—shutting off his wind,—the rain was + coming down in earnest. + </p> + <p> + “Drive right in,” cried Mr. Jenney, hospitably; “you'll get wet. Look out, + Austen, there's a lady comin'. Why, it's Miss Flint!” + </p> + <p> + Victoria knew that her face must be on fire. She felt Austen Vane's quick + glance upon her, but she did not dare look to the right or left as she + drove into the barn. There seemed no excuse for any other course. + </p> + <p> + “How be you?” said Mr. Jenney; “kind of lucky you happened along here, + wahn't it? You'd have been soaked before you got to Harris's. How be you? + I ain't seen you since that highfalutin party up to Crewe's.” + </p> + <p> + “It's very kind of you to let me come in, Mr. Jenney.” + </p> + <p> + “But I have a rain-coat and a boot, and—I really ought to be going + on.” + </p> + <p> + Here Victoria produced the rain-coat from under the seat. The garment was + a dark blue, and Mr. Jenney felt of its gossamer weight with a + good-natured contempt. + </p> + <p> + “That wouldn't be any more good than so much cheesecloth,” he declared, + nodding in the direction of the white sheet of the storm. “Would it, + Austen.” + </p> + <p> + She turned her head slowly and met Austen's eyes. Fortunate that the barn + was darkened, that he might not see how deep the colour mantling in her + temples! His head was bare, and she had never really marked before the + superb setting of it on his shoulders, for he wore a gray flannel shirt + open at the neck, revealing a bronzed throat. His sinewy arms—weather-burned, + too—were bare above the elbows. + </p> + <p> + Explanations of her presence sprang to her lips, but she put them from her + as subterfuges unworthy of him. She would not attempt to deceive him in + the least. She had wished to see him again—nor did she analyze her + motives. Once more beside him, the feeling of confidence, of belief in + him, rose within her and swept all else away—burned in a swift + consuming flame the doubts of absence. He took her hand, but she withdrew + it quickly. + </p> + <p> + “This is a fortunate accident,” he said, “fortunate, at least, for me.” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps Mr. Jenney will not agree with you,” she retorted. + </p> + <p> + But Mr. Jenney was hitching the horse and throwing a blanket over him. + Suddenly, before they realized it, the farmer had vanished into the storm, + and this unexplained desertion of their host gave rise to an awkward + silence between them, which each for a while strove vainly to break. In + the great moments of life, trivialities become dwarfed and ludicrous, and + the burden of such occasions is on the woman. + </p> + <p> + “So you've taken to farming,” she said, “isn't it about haying time?” + </p> + <p> + He laughed. + </p> + <p> + “We begin next week. And you—you've come back in season for it. I + hope that your mother is better.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” replied Victoria, simply, “the baths helped her. But I'm glad to + get back,—I like my own country so much better,—and especially + this part of it,” she added. “I can bear to be away from New York in the + winter, but not from Fairview in the summer.” + </p> + <p> + At this instant Mr. Jenney appeared at the barn door bearing a huge green + umbrella. + </p> + <p> + “Come over to the house—Mis' Jenney is expectin' you,” he said. + </p> + <p> + Victoria hesitated. To refuse would be ungracious; moreover, she could + risk no misinterpretation of her acts, and she accepted. Mrs. Jenney met + her on the doorstep, and conducted her into that sanctum reserved for + occasions, the parlour, with its Bible, its flat, old-fashioned piano, its + samplers, its crayon portrait of Mr. and Mrs. Jenney after their + honeymoon; with its aroma that suggested Sundays and best manners. Mrs. + Jenney, with incredible rapidity (for her figure was not what it had been + at the time of the crayon portrait), had got into a black dress, over + which she wore a spotless apron. She sat in the parlour with her guest + until Mr. Jenney reappeared with shining face and damp hair. + </p> + <p> + “You'll excuse me, my dear,” said Mrs. Jenney, “but the supper's on the + stove, and I have to run out now and then.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Jenney was entertaining. He had the shrewd, humorous outlook upon life + characteristic of the best type of New England farmer, and Victoria got + along with him famously. His comments upon his neighbours were kindly but + incisive, except when the question of spirituous liquors occurred to him. + Austen Vane he thought the world of, and dwelt upon this subject a little + longer than Victoria, under the circumstances, would have wished. + </p> + <p> + “He comes out here just like it was home,” said Mr. Jenney, “and helps + with the horses and cows the same as if he wasn't gettin' to be one of the + greatest lawyers in the State.” + </p> + <p> + “O dear, Mr. Jenney,” said Victoria, glancing out of the window, “I'll + really have to go home. I'm sure it won't stop raining for hours. But I + shall be perfectly dry in my rain-coat,—no matter how much you may + despise it.” + </p> + <p> + “You're not a-going to do anything of the kind,” cried Mrs. Jenney from + the doorway. “Supper's all ready, and you're going to walk right in.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I really have to go,” Victoria exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + “Now I know it ain't as grand as you'd get at home,” said Mr. Jenney. “It + ain't what we'd give you, Miss Victoria,—that's only simple home + fare,—it's what you'd give us. It's the honour of having you,” he + added,—and Victoria thought that no courtier could have worded an + invitation better. She would not be missed at Fairview. Her mother was + inaccessible at this hour, and the servants would think of her as dining + at Leith. The picture of the great, lonely house, of the ceremonious + dinner which awaited her single presence, gave her an irresistible longing + to sit down with these simple, kindly souls. Austen was the only obstacle. + He, too, had changed his clothes, and now appeared, smiling at her behind + Mrs. Jenney. The look of prospective disappointment in the good woman's + face decided Victoria. + </p> + <p> + “I'll stay, with pleasure,” she said. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Jenney pronounced grace. Victoria sat across the table from Austen, + and several times the consciousness of his grave look upon her as she + talked heightened the colour in her cheek. He said but little during the + meal. Victoria heard how well Mrs. Jenney's oldest son was doing in + Springfield, and how the unmarried daughter was teaching, now, in the + West. Asked about Europe, that land of perpetual mystery to the native + American, the girl spoke so simply and vividly of some of the wonders she + had seen that she held the older people entranced long after the meal was + finished. But at length she observed, with a start, the gathering + darkness. In the momentary happiness of this experience, she had been + forgetful. + </p> + <p> + “I will drive home with you, if you'll allow me,” said Austen. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no, I really don't need an escort, Mr. Vane. I'm so used to driving + about at night, I never think of it,” she answered. + </p> + <p> + “Of course he'll drive home with you, dear,” said Mrs. Jenney. “And, Jabe, + you'll hitch up and go and fetch Austen back.” + </p> + <p> + “Certain,” Mr. Jenney agreed. + </p> + <p> + The rain had ceased, and the indistinct outline of the trees and fences + betrayed the fact that the clouds were already thinning under the moon. + Austen had lighted the side lamps of the runabout, revealing the shining + pools on the road as they drove along—for the first few minutes in + silence. + </p> + <p> + “It was very good of you to stay,” he said; “you do not know how much + pleasure you have given them.” + </p> + <p> + Her feminine appreciation responded to the tact of this remark: it was so + distinctly what he should have said. + </p> + <p> + How delicate, she thought, must be his understanding of her, that he + should have spoken so! + </p> + <p> + “I was glad to stay,” she answered, in a low voice. “I—enjoyed it, + too.” + </p> + <p> + “They have very little in their lives,” he said, and added, with a + characteristic touch, “I do not mean to say that your coming would not be + an event in any household.” + </p> + <p> + She laughed with him, softly, at this sally. + </p> + <p> + “Not to speak of the visit you are making them,” she replied. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I'm one of the family,” he said; “I come and go. Jabe's is my country + house, when I can't stand the city any longer.” + </p> + <p> + She saw that he did not intend to tell her why he had left Ripton on this + occasion. There fell another silence. They were like prisoners, and each + strove to explore the bounds of their captivity: each sought a lawful + ground of communication. Victoria suddenly remembered—with an access + of indignation—her father's words, “I do not know what sort he is, + but he is not my sort.” A while ago, and she had blamed herself vehemently + for coming to Jabe Jenney's, and now the act had suddenly become + sanctified in her sight. She did not analyze her feeling for Austen, but + she was consumed with a fierce desire that justice should be done him. “He + was honourable—honourable!” she found herself repeating under her + breath. No man or woman could look into his face, take his hand, sit by + his side, without feeling that he was as dependable as the stars in their + courses. And her father should know this, must be made to know it. This + man was to be distinguished from opportunists and self-seekers, from + fanatics who strike at random. His chief possession was a priceless one—a + conscience. + </p> + <p> + As for Austen, it sufficed him for the moment that he had been lifted, by + another seeming caprice of fortune, to a seat of torture the agony whereof + was exquisite. An hour, and only the ceaseless pricking memory of it would + abide. The barriers had risen higher since he had seen her last, but still + he might look into her face and know the radiance of her presence. Could + he only trust himself to guard his tongue! But the heart on such occasions + will cheat language of its meaning. + </p> + <p> + “What have you been doing since I saw you last?” she asked. “It seems that + you still continue to lead a life of violence.” + </p> + <p> + “Sometimes I wish I did,” he answered, with a laugh; “the humdrum + existence of getting practice enough to keep a horse is not the most + exciting in the world. To what particular deed of violence do you refer?” + </p> + <p> + “The last achievement, which is in every one's mouth, that of assisting + Mr. Tooting down-stairs.” + </p> + <p> + “I have been defamed,” Austen laughed; “he fell down, I believe. But as I + have a somewhat evil reputation, and as he came out of my entry, people + draw their own conclusions. I can't imagine who told you that story.” + </p> + <p> + “Never mind,” she answered. “You see, I have certain sources of + information about you.” + </p> + <p> + He tingled over this, and puzzled over it so long that she laughed. + </p> + <p> + “Does that surprise you?” she asked. “I fail to see why I should be + expected to lose all interest in my friends—even if they appear to + have lost interest in me.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, don't say that!” he cried so sharply that she wished her words + unsaid. “You can't mean it! You don't know!” + </p> + <p> + She trembled at the vigorous passion he put into the words. + </p> + <p> + “No, I don't mean it,” she said gently. + </p> + <p> + The wind had made a rent in the sheet of the clouds, and through it burst + the moon in her full glory, flooding field and pasture, and the black + stretches of pine forest at their feet. Below them the land fell away, and + fell again to the distant broadening valley, to where a mist of white + vapour hid the course of the Blue. And beyond, the hills rose again, tier + upon tier, to the shadowy outline of Sawanec herself against the hurrying + clouds and the light-washed sky. Victoria, gazing at the scene, drew a + deep breath, and turned and looked at him in the quick way which he + remembered so well. + </p> + <p> + “Sometimes,” she said, “it is so beautiful that it hurts to look at it. + You love it—do you ever feel that way?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” he said, but his answer was more than the monosyllable. “I can see + that mountain from my window, and it seriously interferes with my work. I + really ought to move into another building.” + </p> + <p> + There was a little catch in her laugh. + </p> + <p> + “And I watch it,” she continued, “I watch it from the pine grove by the + hour. Sometimes it smiles, and sometimes it is sad, and sometimes it is + far, far away, so remote and mysterious that I wonder if it is ever to + come back and smile again.” + </p> + <p> + “Have you ever seen the sunrise from its peak?” said Austen. + </p> + <p> + “No. Oh, how I should love to see it!” she exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, you would like to see it,” he answered simply. He would like to take + her there, to climb, with her hand in his, the well-known paths in the + darkness, to reach the summit in the rosy-fingered dawn: to see her stand + on the granite at his side in the full glory of the red light, and to show + her a world which she was henceforth to share with him. + </p> + <p> + Some such image, some such vision of his figure on the rock, may have been + in her mind as she turned her face again toward the mountain. + </p> + <p> + “You are cold,” he said, reaching for the mackintosh in the back of the + trap. + </p> + <p> + “No,” she said. But she stopped the horse and acquiesced by slipping her + arms into the coat, and he felt upon his hand the caress of a stray wisp + of hair at her neck. Under a spell of thought and feeling, seemingly laid + by the magic of the night, neither spoke for a space. And then Victoria + summoned her forces, and turned to him again. Her tone bespoke the subtle + intimacy that always sprang up between them, despite bars and conventions. + </p> + <p> + “I was sure you would understand why I wrote you from New York,” she said, + “although I hesitated a long time before doing so. It was very stupid of + me not to realize the scruples which made you refuse to be a candidate for + the governorship, and I wanted to—to apologize.” + </p> + <p> + “It wasn't necessary,” said Austen, “but—I valued the note.” The + words seemed so absurdly inadequate to express his appreciation of the + treasure which he carried with him, at that moment, in his pocket. “But, + really,” he added, smiling at her in the moonlight, “I must protest + against your belief that I could have been an effective candidate! I have + roamed about the State, and I have made some very good friends here and + there among the hill farmers, like Mr. Jenney. Mr. Redbrook is one of + these. But it would have been absurd of me even to think of a candidacy + founded on personal friendships. I assure you,” he added, smiling, “there + was no self denial in my refusal.” + </p> + <p> + She gave him an appraising glance which he found at once enchanting and + disconcerting. + </p> + <p> + “You are one of those people, I think, who do not know their own value. If + I were a man, and such men as Mr. Redbrook and Mr. Jenney knew me and + believed sufficiently in me and in my integrity of purpose to ask me to be + their candidate” (here she hesitated an instant), “and I believed that the + cause were a good one, I should not have felt justified in refusing. That + is what I meant. I have always thought of you as a man of force and a man + of action. But I did not see—the obstacle in your way.” + </p> + <p> + She hesitated once more, and added, with a courage which did not fail of + its direct appeal, “I did not realize that you would be publicly opposing + your father. And I did not realize that you would not care to criticise—mine.” + </p> + <p> + On the last word she faltered and glanced at his profile. + </p> + <p> + Had she gone too far? + </p> + <p> + “I felt that you would understand,” he answered. He could not trust + himself to speak further. How much did she know? And how much was she + capable of grasping? + </p> + <p> + His reticence served only to fortify her trust—to elevate it. It was + impossible for her not to feel something of that which was in him and + crying for utterance. She was a woman. And if this one action had been but + the holding of her coat, she would have known. A man who could keep silent + under these conditions must indeed be a rock of might and honour; and she + felt sure now, with a surging of joy, that the light she had seen shining + from it was the beacon of truth. A question trembled on her lips—the + question for which she had long been gathering strength. Whatever the + outcome of this communion, she felt that there must be absolute truth + between them. + </p> + <p> + “I want to ask you something, Mr. Vane—I have been wanting to for a + long time.” + </p> + <p> + She saw the muscles of his jaw tighten,—a manner he had when earnest + or determined,—and she wondered in agitation whether he divined what + she was going to say. He turned his face slowly to hers, and his eyes were + troubled. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “You have always spared my feelings,” she went on. “Now—now I am + asking for the truth—as you see it. Do the Northeastern Railroads + wrongfully govern this State for their own ends?” + </p> + <p> + Austen, too, as he thought over it afterwards, in the night, was surprised + at her concise phrasing, suggestive; as it was, of much reflection. But at + the moment, although he had been prepared for and had braced himself + against something of this nature, he was nevertheless overcome by the + absolute and fearless directness of her speech. + </p> + <p> + “That is a question,” he answered, “which you will have to ask your + father.” + </p> + <p> + “I have asked him,” she said, in a low voice; “I want to know what—you + believe.” + </p> + <p> + “You have asked him!” he repeated, in astonishment. + </p> + <p> + “Yes. You mustn't think that, in asking you, I am unfair to him in any way—or + that I doubt his sincerity. We have been” (her voice caught a little) “the + closest friends ever since I was a child.” She paused. “But I want to know + what you believe.” + </p> + <p> + The fact that she emphasized the last pronoun sent another thrill through + him. Did it, then, make any difference to her what he believed? Did she + mean to differentiate him from out of the multitude? He had to steady + himself before he answered:—“I have sometimes thought that my own + view might not be broad enough.” + </p> + <p> + She turned to him again. + </p> + <p> + “Why are you evading?” she asked. “I am sure it is not because you have + not settled convictions. And I have asked you—a favour.” + </p> + <p> + “You have done me an honour,” he answered, and faced her suddenly. “You + must see,” he cried, with a power and passion in his voice that startled + and thrilled her in turn, “you must see that it's because I wish to be + fair that I hesitate. I would tell you—anything. I do not agree with + my own father,—we have been—apart—for years because of + this. And I do—not agree with Mr. Flint. I am sure that they both + are wrong. But I cannot help seeing their point of view. These practices + are the result of an evolution, of an evolution of their time. They were + forced to cope with conditions in the way they did, or go to the wall. + They make the mistake of believing that the practices are still necessary + to-day.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” she exclaimed, a great hope rising within her at these words. “Oh, + and you believe they are not!” His explanation seemed so simple, so + inspiring. And above and beyond that, he was sure. Conviction rang in + every word. Had he not, she remembered, staked his career by disagreeing + with his father? Yes, and he had been slow to condemn; he had seen their + side. It was they who condemned him. He must have justice—he should + have it! + </p> + <p> + “I believe such practices are not necessary now,” he said firmly. “A new + generation has come—a generation more jealous of its political + rights, and not so willing to be rid of them by farming them out. A change + has taken place even in the older men, like Mr. Jenney and Mr. Redbrook, + who simply did not think about these questions ten years ago. Men of this + type, who could be leaders, are ready to assume their responsibilities, + are ready to deal fairly with railroads and citizens alike. This is a + matter of belief. I believe it—Mr. Flint and my father do not. They + see the politicians, and I see the people. I belong to one generation, and + they to another. With the convictions they have, added to the fact that + they are in a position of heavy responsibility toward the owners of their + property, they cannot be blamed for hesitating to try any experiments.” + </p> + <p> + “And the practices are—bad?” Victoria asked. + </p> + <p> + “They are entirely subversive of the principles of American government, to + say the least,” replied Austen, grimly. He was thinking of the pass which + Mr. Flint had sent him, and of the kind of men Mr. Flint employed to make + the practices effective. + </p> + <p> + They descended into the darkness of a deep valley, scored out between the + hills by one of the rushing tributaries of the Blue. The moon fell down + behind the opposite ridge, and the road ran through a deep forest. He no + longer saw the shades of meaning in her face, but in the blackness of + Erebus he could have sensed her presence at his side. Speech, though of + this strange kind of which neither felt the strangeness, had come and gone + between them, and now silence spoke as eloquently. Twice or thrice their + eyes met through the gloom,—and there was light. At length she spoke + with the impulsiveness in her voice that he found so appealing. + </p> + <p> + “You must see my father—you must talk to him. He doesn't know how + fair you are!” + </p> + <p> + To Austen the inference was obvious that Mr. Flint had conceived for him a + special animosity, which he must have mentioned to Victoria, and this + inference opened the way to a wide speculation in which he was at once + elated and depressed. Why had he been so singled out? And had Victoria + defended him? Once before he remembered that she had told him he must see + Mr. Flint. They had gained the ridge now, and the moon had risen again for + them, striking black shadows from the maples on the granite-cropped + pastures. A little farther on was a road which might have been called the + rear entrance to Fairview. + </p> + <p> + What was he to say? + </p> + <p> + “I am afraid Mr. Flint has other things to do than to see me,” he + answered. “If he wished to see me, he would say so.” + </p> + <p> + “Would you go to see him, if he were to ask you?” said Victoria. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” he replied, “but that is not likely to happen. Indeed, you are + giving my opinion entirely too much importance in your father's eyes,” he + added, with an attempt to carry it off lightly; “there is no more reason + why he should care to discuss the subject with me than with any other + citizen of the State of my age who thinks as I do.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes, there is,” said Victoria; “he regards you as a person whose + opinion has some weight. I am sure of that. He thinks of you as a person + of convictions—and he has heard things about you. You talked to him + once,” she went on, astonished at her own boldness, “and made him angry. + Why don't you talk to him again?” she cried, seeing that Austen was + silent. “I am sure that what you said about the change of public opinion + in the State would appeal to him. And oh, don't quarrel with him! You have + a faculty of differing with people without quarrelling with them. My + father has so many cares, and he tries so hard to do right as he sees it. + You must remember that he was a poor farmer's son, and that he began to + work at fourteen in Brampton, running errands for a country printer. He + never had any advantages except those he made for himself, and he had to + fight his way in a hard school against men who were not always honourable. + It is no wonder that he sometimes takes—a material view of things. + But he is reasonable and willing to listen to what other men have to say, + if he is not antagonized.” + </p> + <p> + “I understand,” said Austen, who thought Mr. Flint blest in his advocate. + Indeed, Victoria's simple reference to her father's origin had touched him + deeply. “I understand, but I cannot go to him. There is every reason why I + cannot,” he added, and she knew that he was speaking with difficulty, as + under great emotion. + </p> + <p> + “But if he should send for you?” she asked. She felt his look fixed upon + her with a strange intensity, and her heart leaped as she dropped her + eyes. + </p> + <p> + “If Mr. Flint should send for me,” he answered slowly, “I would come—and + gladly. But it must be of his own free will.” + </p> + <p> + Victoria repeated the words over to herself, “It must be of his own free + will,” waiting until she should be alone to seek their full + interpretation. She turned, and looked across the lawn at Fairview House + shining in the light. In another minute they had drawn up before the open + door. + </p> + <p> + “Won't you come in—and wait for Mr. Jenney?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + He gazed down into her face, searchingly, and took her hand. + </p> + <p> + “Good night,” he said; “Mr. Jenney is not far behind. I think—I + think I should like the walk.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0020" id="link2HCH0020"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XX. MR. CREWE: AN APPRECIATION (1) + </h2> + <p> + It is given to some rare mortals—with whom fame precedes grey hairs + or baldness to read, while still on the rising tide of their efforts, that + portion of their lives which has already been inscribed on the scroll of + history—or something like it. Mr. Crewe in kilts at five; and + (prophetic picture!) with a train of cars which—so the family + tradition runs—was afterwards demolished; Mr. Crewe at fourteen, in + delicate health; this picture was taken abroad, with a long-suffering + tutor who could speak feelingly, if he would, of embryo geniuses. Even at + this early period Humphrey Crewe's thirst for knowledge was insatiable: he + cared little, the biography tells us, for galleries and churches and + ruins, but his comments upon foreign methods of doing business were + astonishingly precocious. He recommended to amazed clerks in provincial + banks the use of cheques, ridiculed to speechless station-masters the + side-entrance railway carriage with its want of room, and the size of the + goods trucks. He is said to have been the first to suggest that soda-water + fountains might be run at a large profit in London. + </p> + <p> + In college, in addition to keeping up his classical courses, he found time + to make an exhaustive study of the railroads of the United States, + embodying these ideas in a pamphlet published shortly after graduation. + This pamphlet is now, unfortunately, very rare, but the anonymous + biographer managed to get one and quote from it. If Mr. Crewe's + suggestions had been carried out, seventy-five per cent of the railroad + accidents might have been eliminated. Thorough was his watchword even + then. And even at that period he foresaw, with the prophecy of genius, the + days of single-track congestion. + </p> + <p> + His efforts to improve Leith and the State in general, to ameliorate the + condition of his neighbours, were fittingly and delicately dwelt upon. A + desire to take upon himself the burden of citizenship led—as we know—to + further self-denial. He felt called upon to go to the Legislature—and + this is what he saw:—(Mr. Crewe is quoted here at length in an + admirable, concise, and hair-raising statement given in an interview to + his biographer. But we have been with him, and know what he saw. It is, + for lack of space, reluctantly omitted.) + </p> + <p> + And now we are to take up where the biography left off; to relate, in a + chapter if possible, one of the most remarkable campaigns in the history + of this country. A certain reformer of whose acquaintance the honest + chronicler boasts (a reformer who got elected!) found, on his first visit + to the headquarters he had hired—two citizens under the influence of + liquor and a little girl with a skip rope. Such are the beginnings that + try men's souls. + </p> + <p> + The window of every independent shopkeeper in Ripton contained a + large-sized picture of the Leith statesman, his determined chin slightly + thrust down into the Gladstone collar. Underneath were the words, “I will + put an end to graft and railroad rule. I am a Candidate of the People. + Opening rally of the People's Campaign at the Opera House, at 8 P.M., July + 10th. The Hon. Humphrey Crewe, of Leith, will tell the citizens of Ripton + how their State is governed.” + </p> + <p> + “Father,” said Victoria, as she read this announcement (three columns + wide, in the Ripton Record) as they sat at breakfast together, “do you + mind my going? I can get Hastings Weare to take me.” + </p> + <p> + “Not at all,” said Mr. Flint, who had returned from New York in a better + frame of mind. “I should like a trustworthy account of that meeting. + Only,” he added, “I should advise you to go early, Victoria, in order to + get a seat.” + </p> + <p> + “You don't object to my listening to criticism of you?” + </p> + <p> + “Not by Humphrey Crewe,” laughed Mr. Flint. + </p> + <p> + Early suppers instead of dinners were the rule at Leith on the evening of + the historic day, and the candidate himself, in his red Leviathan, was not + inconsiderably annoyed, on the way to Ripton, by innumerable carryalls and + traps filled with brightly gowned recruits of that organization of Mrs. + Pomfret's which Beatrice Chillingham had nicknamed “The Ladies' + Auxiliary.”. In vain Mr. Crewe tooted his horn: the sound of it was + drowned by the gay talk and laughter in the carryalls, and shrieks ensued + when the Leviathan cut by with only six inches to spare, and the candidate + turned and addressed the drivers in language more forceful than polite, + and told the ladies they acted as if they were going to a Punch-and-Judy + show. + </p> + <p> + “Poor dear Humphrey!” said, Mrs. Pomfret, “is so much in earnest. I + wouldn't give a snap for a man without a temper.” + </p> + <p> + “Poor dear Humphrey” said Beatrice Chillingham, in an undertone to her + neighbour, “is exceedingly rude and ungrateful. That's what I think.” + </p> + <p> + The occupants of one vehicle heard the horn, and sought the top of a + grassy mound to let the Leviathan go by. And the Leviathan, with + characteristic contrariness, stopped. + </p> + <p> + “Hello,” said Mr. Crewe, with a pull at his cap. “I intended to be on the + lookout for you.” + </p> + <p> + “That is very thoughtful, Humphrey, considering how many things you have + to be on the lookout for this evening,” Victoria replied. + </p> + <p> + “That's all right,” was Mr. Crewe's gracious reply. “I knew you'd be + sufficiently broad-minded to come, and I hope you won't take offence at + certain remarks I think it my duty to make.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't let my presence affect you,” she answered, smiling; “I have come + prepared for anything.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll tell Tooting to give you a good seat,” he called back, as he started + onward. + </p> + <p> + Hastings Weare looked up at her, with laughter-brimming eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Victoria, you're a wonder!” he remarked. “Say, do you remember that tall + fellow we met at Humphrey's party, Austen Vane?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “I saw him on the street in Ripton the other day, and he came right up and + spoke to me. He hadn't forgotten my name. Now, he'd be my notion of a + candidate. He makes you feel as if your presence in the world meant + something to him.” + </p> + <p> + “I think he does feel that way,” replied Victoria. + </p> + <p> + “I don't blame him if he feels that way about you,” said Hastings, who + made love openly. + </p> + <p> + “Hastings,” she answered, “when you get a little older, you will learn to + confine yourself to your own opinions.” + </p> + <p> + “When I do,” he retorted audaciously, “they never make you blush like + that.” + </p> + <p> + “It's probably because you have never learned to be original,” she + replied. But Hastings had been set to thinking. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Pomfret, with her foresight and her talent for management, had given + the Ladies' Auxiliary notice that they were not to go farther forward than + the twelfth row. She herself, with some especially favoured ones, occupied + a box, which was the nearest thing to being on the stage. One unforeseen + result of Mrs. Pomfret's arrangement was that the first eleven rows were + vacant, with the exception of one old man and five or six schoolboys. Such + is the courage of humanity in general! On the arrival of the candidate, + instead of a surging crowd lining the sidewalk, he found only a fringe of + the curious, whose usual post of observation was the railroad station, + standing silently on the curb. Within, Mr. Tooting's duties as an usher + had not been onerous. He met Mr. Crewe in the vestibule, and drew him into + the private office. + </p> + <p> + “The railroad's fixed 'em,” said the manager, indignantly, but sotto voce; + “I've found that out. Hilary Vane had the word passed around town that if + they came, somethin' would fall on 'em. The Tredways and all the people + who own factories served notice on their men that if they paid any + attention to this meeting they'd lose their job. But say, the people are + watchin' you, just the same.” + </p> + <p> + “How many people are in there?” Mr. Crewe demanded. + </p> + <p> + “Twenty-seven, when I came out,” said Mr. Tooting, with commendable + accuracy. “But it wants fifteen minutes to eight.” + </p> + <p> + “And who,” asked Mr. Crewe, “is to introduce me?” + </p> + <p> + An expression of indignation spread over Mr. Tooting's face. + </p> + <p> + “There ain't a man in Ripton's got sand enough!” he exclaimed. “Sol + Gridley was a-goin' to, but he went to New York on the noon train. I guess + it's a pleasure trip,” Mr. Tooting hinted darkly. + </p> + <p> + “Why,” said Mr. Crewe, “he's the fellow—” + </p> + <p> + “Exactly,” Mr. Tooting replied, “and he did get a lot of 'em, travelling + about. But Sol has got to work on the quiet, you understand. He feels he + can't come out right away.” + </p> + <p> + “And how about Amos Ricketts? Where's he?” + </p> + <p> + “Amos,” said Mr. Tooting, regretfully, “was taken very sudden about five + o'clock. One of his spells come on, and he sent me word to the Ripton + House. He had his speech all made up, and it was a good one, too. He was + going to tell folks pretty straight how the railroad beat him for mayor.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Crewe made a gesture of disgust. + </p> + <p> + “I'll introduce myself,” he said. “They all know me, anyhow.” + </p> + <p> + “Say,” said Mr. Tooting, laying a hand on his candidate's arm. “You + couldn't do any better. I've bin for that all along.” + </p> + <p> + “Hold on,” said Mr. Crewe, listening, “a lot of people are coming in now.” + </p> + <p> + What Mr. Crewe had heard, however, was the arrival of the Ladies' + Auxiliary,—five and thirty strong, from Leith. But stay! Who are + these coming? More ladies—ladies in groups of two and three and + five! ladies of Ripton whose husbands, for some unexplained reason, have + stayed at home; and Mr. Tooting, as he watched them with mingled feelings, + became a woman's suffragist on the spot. He dived into the private office + once more, where he found Mr. Crewe seated with his legs crossed, calmly + reading a last winter's playbill. (Note for a more complete biography.) + </p> + <p> + “Well, Tooting,” he said, “I thought they'd begin to come.” + </p> + <p> + “They're mostly women,” Mr. Tooting informed him. + </p> + <p> + “Women!” + </p> + <p> + “Hold on!” said Mr. Tooting, who had the true showman's instinct. “Can't + you see that folks are curious? They're afraid to come 'emselves, and + they're sendin' their wives and daughters. If you get the women tonight, + they'll go home and club the men into line.” + </p> + <p> + Eight strokes boomed out from the tower of the neighbouring town hall, and + an expectant flutter spread over the audience,—a flatter which + disseminated faint odours of sachet and other mysterious substances in + which feminine apparel is said to the laid away. The stage was empty, save + for a table which held a pitcher of water and a glass. + </p> + <p> + “It's a pretty good imitation of a matinee,” Hastings Weare remarked. “I + wonder whom the front seats are reserved for. Say, Victoria, there's your + friend Mr. Vane in the corner. He's looking over here.” + </p> + <p> + “He has a perfect right to look where he chooses,” said Victoria. She + wondered whether he would come over and sit next to her if she turned + around, and decided instantly that he wouldn't. Presently, when she + thought Hastings was off his guard, she did turn, to meet, as she + expected, Austen's glance fixed upon her. Their greeting was the signal of + two people with a mutual understanding. He did not rise, and although she + acknowledged to herself a feeling of disappointment, she gave him credit + for a nice comprehension of the situation. Beside him was his friend Tom + Gaylord, who presented to her a very puzzled face. And then, if there had + been a band, it would have been time to play “See, the Conquering Hero + Comes!” + </p> + <p> + Why wasn't there a band? No such mistake, Mr. Tooting vowed, should be + made at the next rally. + </p> + <p> + It was Mrs. Pomfret who led the applause from her box as the candidate + walked modestly up the side aisle and presently appeared, alone, on the + stage. The flutter of excitement was renewed, and this time it might + almost be called a flutter of apprehension. But we who have heard Mr. + Crewe speak are in no alarm for our candidate. He takes a glass of iced + water; he arranges, with the utmost sangfroid, his notes on the desk and + adjusts the reading light. Then he steps forward and surveys the scattered + groups. + </p> + <p> + “Ladies—” a titter ran through the audience,—a titter which + started somewhere in the near neighbourhood of Mr. Hastings Weare—and + rose instantly to several hysterical peals of feminine laughter. Mrs. + Pomfret, outraged, sweeps the frivolous offenders with her lorgnette; Mr. + Crewe, with his arm resting, on the reading-desk, merely raises the palm + of his hand to a perpendicular reproof,—“and gentlemen.” At this + point the audience is thoroughly cowed. “Ladies and gentlemen and fellow + citizens. I thank you for the honour you have done me in coming here to + listen to the opening speech of my campaign to-night. It is a campaign for + decency and good government, and I know that the common people of the + State—of whom I have the honour to be one—demand these things. + I cannot say as much for the so-called prominent citizens,” said Mr. + Crewe, glancing about him; “not one of your prominent citizens in Ripton + would venture to offend the powers that be by consenting to introduce me + to-night, or dared come into this theatre and take seats within thirty + feet of this platform.” Here Mr. Crewe let his eyes rest significantly on + the eleven empty rows, while his hearers squirmed in terrified silence at + this audacity. Even the Ripton women knew that this was high treason + beneath the walls of the citadel, and many of them glanced furtively at + the strangely composed daughter of Augustus P. Flint. + </p> + <p> + “I will show you that I can stand on my own feet,” Mr. Crewe continued. “I + will introduce myself. I am Humphrey Crewe of Leith, and I claim to have + added something to the welfare and prosperity of this State, and I intend + to add more before I have finished.” + </p> + <p> + At this point, as might have been expected, spontaneous applause broke + forth, originating in the right-hand stage box. Here was a daring defiance + indeed, a courage of such a high order that it completely carried away the + ladies and drew reluctant plaudits from the male element. “Give it to 'em, + Humphrey!” said one of those who happened to be sitting next to Miss + Flint, and who received a very severe pinch in the arm in consequence. + </p> + <p> + “I thank the gentleman,” answered Mr. Crewe, “and I propose to—(Handclapping + and sachet.) I propose to show that you spend something like two hundred + thousand dollars a year to elect legislators and send 'em to the capital, + when the real government of your State is in a room in the Pelican Hotel + known as the Railroad Room, and the real governor is a citizen of your + town, the Honourable Hilary Vane, who sits there and acts for his master, + Mr. Augustus P. Flint of New York. And I propose to prove to you that, + before the Honourable Adam B. Hunt appeared as that which has come to be + known as the 'regular' candidate, Mr. Flint sent for him to go to New York + and exacted certain promises from him. Not that it was necessary, but the + Northeastern Railroads never take any chances. (Laughter.) The Honourable + Adam B. Hunt is what they call a 'safe' man, meaning by that a man who + will do what Mr. Flint wants him to do. While I am not 'safe' because I + have dared to defy them in your name, and will do what the people want me + to do. (Clapping and cheers from a gentleman in the darkness, afterwards + identified as Mr. Tooting.) Now, my friends, are you going to continue to + allow a citizen of New York to nominate your governors, and do you intend, + tamely, to give the Honourable Adam B. Hunt your votes?” + </p> + <p> + “They ain't got any votes,” said a voice—not that of Mr. Hastings + Weare, for it came from the depths of the gallery. + </p> + <p> + “'The hand that rocks the cradle sways the world,'” answered Mr. Crewe, + and there was no doubt about the sincerity of the applause this time. + </p> + <p> + “The campaign of the Honourable Humphrey Crewe of Leith,” said the State + Tribune next day, “was inaugurated at the Opera House in Ripton last night + before an enthusiastic audience consisting of Mr. Austen Vane, Mr. Thomas + Gaylord, Jr., Mr. Hamilton Tooting, two reporters, and seventy-four + ladies, who cheered the speaker to the echo. About half of these ladies + were summer residents of Leith in charge of the well-known social leader, + Mrs. Patterson Pomfret,—an organized league which, it is understood, + will follow the candidate about the State in the English fashion, kissing + the babies and teaching the mothers hygienic cooking and how to ondule the + hair.” + </p> + <p> + After speaking for an hour and a half, the Honourable Humphrey Crewe + declared that he would be glad to meet any of the audience who wished to + shake his hand, and it was Mrs. Pomfret who reached him first. + </p> + <p> + “Don't be discouraged, Humphrey,—you are magnificent,” she + whispered. + </p> + <p> + “Discouraged!” echoed Mr. Crewe. “You can't kill an idea, and we'll see + who's right and who's wrong before I get through with 'em.” + </p> + <p> + “What a noble spirit!” Mrs. Pomfret exclaimed aside to Mrs. Chillingham. + Then she added, in a louder tone, “Ladies, if you will kindly tell me your + names, I shall be happy to introduce you to the candidate. Well, Victoria, + I didn't expect to see you here.” + </p> + <p> + “Why not?” said Victoria. “Humphrey, accept my congratulations.” + </p> + <p> + “Did you like it?” asked Mr. Crewe. “I thought it was a pretty good speech + myself. There's nothing like telling the truth, you know. And, by the way, + I hope to see you in a day or two, before I start for Kingston. Telephone + me when you come down to Leith.” + </p> + <p> + The congratulations bestowed on the candidate by the daughter of the + president of the Northeastern Railroads quite took the breath out of the + spectators who witnessed the incident, and gave rise to the wildest + conjectures. And the admiration of Mr. Hastings Weare was unbounded. + </p> + <p> + “You've got the most magnificent nerve I ever saw, Victoria,” he + exclaimed, as they made their way towards the door. + </p> + <p> + “You forget Humphrey,” she replied. + </p> + <p> + Hastings looked at her and chuckled. In fact, he chuckled all the way + home. In the vestibule they met Mr. Austen Vane and Mr. Thomas Gaylord, + the latter coming forward with a certain palpable embarrassment. All + through the evening Tom had been trying to account for her presence at the + meeting, until Austen had begged him to keep his speculations to himself. + “She can't be engaged to him!” Mr. Gaylord had exclaimed more than once, + under his breath. “Why not?” Austen had answered; “there's a good deal + about him to admire.” “Because she's got more sense,” said Tom doggedly. + Hence he was at a loss for words when she greeted him. + </p> + <p> + “Well, Mr. Gaylord,” she said, “you see no bones were broken, after all. + But I appreciated your precaution in sending the buggy behind me, although + it wasn't necessary. + </p> + <p> + “I felt somewhat responsible,” replied Tom, and words failed him. “Here's + Austen Vane,” he added, indicating by a nod of the head the obvious + presence of that gentleman. “You'll excuse me. There's a man here I want + to see.” + </p> + <p> + “What's the matter with Mr. Gaylord?” Victoria asked. “He seems so—queer.” + </p> + <p> + They were standing apart, alone, Hastings Weare having gone to the stables + for the runabout. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Gaylord imagines he doesn't get along with the opposite sex,” Austen + replied, with just a shade of constraint. + </p> + <p> + “Nonsense!” exclaimed Victoria; “we got along perfectly the other day when + he rescued me from the bushes. What's the matter with him?” + </p> + <p> + Austen laughed, and their eyes met. + </p> + <p> + “I think he is rather surprised to see you here,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “And you?” returned Victoria. “Aren't you equally out of place?” + </p> + <p> + He did not care to go into an explanation of Tom's suspicion in regard to + Mr. Crewe. + </p> + <p> + “My curiosity was too much for me,” he replied, smiling. + </p> + <p> + “So was mine,” she replied, and suddenly demanded: “What did you think of + Humphrey's speech?” + </p> + <p> + Their eyes met. And despite the attempted seriousness of her tone they + joined in an irresistible and spontaneous laughter. They were again on + that plane of mutual understanding and intimacy for which neither could + account. + </p> + <p> + “I have no criticism to make of Mr. Crewe as an orator, at least,” he + said. + </p> + <p> + Then she grew serious again, and regarded him steadfastly. + </p> + <p> + “And—what he said?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + Austen wondered again at the courage she had displayed. All he had been + able to think of in the theatre, while listening to Mr. Crewe's words of + denunciation of the Northeastern Railroads, had been of the effect they + might have on Victoria's feelings, and from time to time he had glanced + anxiously at her profile. And now, looking into her face, questioning, + trustful—he could not even attempt to evade. He was silent. + </p> + <p> + “I shouldn't have asked you that,” she said. “One reason I came was + because—because I wanted to hear the worst. You were too considerate + to tell me—all.” + </p> + <p> + He looked mutely into her eyes, and a great desire arose in him to be able + to carry her away from it all. Many times within the past year, when the + troubles and complications of his life had weighed upon him, his thoughts + had turned to, that Western country, limited only by the bright horizons + where the sun rose and set. If he could only take her there, or into his + own hills, where no man might follow them! It was a primeval longing, and, + being a woman and the object of it, she saw its essential meaning in his + face. For a brief moment they stood as completely alone as on the crest of + Sawanec. + </p> + <p> + “Good night,” she said, in a low voice. + </p> + <p> + He did not trust himself to speak at once, but went down the steps with + her to the curb, where Hastings Weare was waiting in the runabout. + </p> + <p> + “I was just telling Miss Flint,” said that young gentleman, “that you + would have been my candidate.” + </p> + <p> + Austen's face relaxed. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, Mr. Weare,” he said simply; and to Victoria, “Good night.” + </p> + <p> + At the corner, when she turned, she saw him still standing on the edge of + the sidewalk, his tall figure thrown into bold relief by the light which + flooded from the entrance. The account of the Ripton meeting, + substantially as it appeared in the State Tribune, was by a singular + coincidence copied at once into sixty-odd weekly newspapers, and must have + caused endless merriment throughout the State. Congressman Fairplay's + prophecy of “negligible” was an exaggeration, and one gentleman who had + rashly predicted that Mr. Crewe would get twenty delegates out of a + thousand hid himself for shame. On the whole, the “monumental farce” + forecast seemed best to fit the situation. A conference was held at Leith + between the candidate, Mr. Tooting, and the Honourable Timothy Watling of + Newcastle, who was preparing the nominating speech, although the + convention was more than two months distant. Mr. Watling was skilled in + rounded periods of oratory and in other things political; and both he and + Mr. Tooting reiterated their opinion that there was no particle of doubt + about Mr. Crewe's nomination. + </p> + <p> + “But we'll have to fight fire with fire,” Mr. Tooting declared. It was + probably an accident that he happened to kick, at this instant, Mr. + Watling under cover of the table. Mr. Watling was an old and valued + friend. + </p> + <p> + “Gentlemen,” said Mr. Crewe, “I haven't the slightest doubt of my + nomination, either. I do not hesitate to say, however, that the expenses + of this campaign, at this early stage, seem to me out of all proportion. + Let me see what you have there.” + </p> + <p> + The Honourable Timothy Wading had produced a typewritten list containing + some eighty towns and wards, each followed by a name and the number of the + delegates therefrom—and figures. + </p> + <p> + “They'd all be enthusiastic Crewe men—if they could be seen by the + right party,” declared Mr. Tooting. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Crewe ran his eye over the list. + </p> + <p> + “Whom would you suggest to see 'em?” he asked coldly. + </p> + <p> + “There's only one party I know of that has much influence over 'em,” Mr. + Tooting replied, with a genial but deferential indication of his friend. + </p> + <p> + At this point Mr. Crewe's secretary left the room on an errand, and the + three statesmen went into executive session. In politics, as in charity, + it is a good rule not to let one's right hand know what the left hand + doeth. Half an hour later the three emerged into the sunlight, Mr. Tooting + and Mr. Watling smoking large cigars. + </p> + <p> + “You've got a great lay-out here, Mr. Crewe,” Mr. Watling remarked. “It + must have stood you in a little money, eh? Yes, I'll get mileage books, + and you'll hear from me every day or two.” + </p> + <p> + And now we are come to the infinitely difficult task of relating in a + whirlwind manner the story of a whirlwind campaign—a campaign that + was to make the oldest resident sit up and take notice. In the space of + four short weeks a miracle had begun to show itself. First, there was the + Kingston meeting, with the candidate, his thumb in his watch-pocket, + seated in an open carriage beside Mr. Hamilton Tooting,—a carriage + draped with a sheet on which was painted “Down with Railroad Ring Rule.” + </p> + <p> + The carriage was preceded by the Kingston Brass Band, producing throbbing + martial melodies, and followed (we are not going to believe the State + Tribune any longer) by a jostling' and cheering crowd. The band halts + before the G.A.R. Hall; the candidate alights, with a bow of + acknowledgment, and goes to the private office until the musicians are + seated in front of the platform, when he enters to renewed cheering and + the tune of “See, the Conquering Hero Comes!” + </p> + <p> + An honest historian must admit that there were two accounts of this + meeting. Both agree that Mr. Crewe introduced himself, and poured a + withering sarcasm on the heads of Kingston's prominent citizens. One + account, which the ill-natured declared to be in Mr. Tooting's style, and + which appeared (in slightly larger type than that of the other columns) in + the Kingston and local papers, stated that the hall was crowded to + suffocation, and that the candidate was “accorded an ovation which lasted + for fully five minutes.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Crewe's speech was printed—in this slightly larger type. Woe to + the Honourable Adam B. Hunt, who had gone to New York to see whether he + could be governor! Why didn't he come out on the platform? Because he + couldn't. “Safe” candidates couldn't talk. His subservient and fawning + reports on accidents while chairman of the Railroad Commission were + ruthlessly quoted (amid cheers and laughter). What kind of railroad + service was Kingston getting compared to what it should have? Compared, + indeed, to what it had twenty years ago? An informal reception was held + afterwards. + </p> + <p> + More meetings followed, at the rate of four a week, in county after + county. At the end of fifteen days a selectman (whose name will go down in + history) voluntarily mounted the platform and introduced the Honourable + Humphrey Crewe to the audience; not, to be sure, as the saviour of the + State; and from that day onward Mr. Crewe did not lack for a sponsor. On + the other hand, the sponsors became more pronounced, and at Harwich (a + free-thinking district) a whole board of selectmen and five prominent + citizens sat gravely beside the candidate in the town hall. + </p> + <p> + (1) Paul Pardriff, Ripton. Sent post free, on application, to voters and + others. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0023" id="link2H_4_0023"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + BOOK 3. + </h2> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0021" id="link2HCH0021"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXI. ST. GILES OF THE BLAMELESS LIFE + </h2> + <p> + The burden of the valley of vision: woe to the Honourable Adam B. Hunt! + Where is he all this time? On the porch of his home in Edmundton, smoking + cigars, little heeding the rising of the waters; receiving visits from the + Honourables Brush Bascom, Nat Billings, and Jacob Botcher, and signing + cheques to the order of these gentlemen for necessary expenses. Be it + known that the Honourable Adam was a man of substance in this world's + goods. To quote from Mr. Crewe's speech at Hull: “The Northeastern + Railroads confer—they do not pay, except in passes. Of late years + their books may be searched in vain for evidence of the use of political + funds. The man upon whom they choose to confer your governorship is always + able to pay the pipers.” (Purposely put in the plural.) + </p> + <p> + Have the pipers warned the Honourable Adam of the rising tide against him? + Have they asked him to gird up his loins and hire halls and smite the + upstart hip and thigh? They have warned him, yes, that the expenses may be + a little greater than ordinary. But it is not for him to talk, or to + bestir himself in any unseemly manner, for the prize which he was to have + was in the nature of a gift. In vain did Mr. Crewe cry out to him four + times a week for his political beliefs, for a statement of what he would + do if he were elected governor. The Honourable Adam's dignified answer was + that he had always been a good Republican, and would die one. Following a + time-honoured custom, he refused to say anything, but it was rumoured that + he believed in the gold standard. + </p> + <p> + It is August, and there is rejoicing in—Leith. There is no doubt now + that the campaign of the people progresses; no need any more for the true + accounts of the meetings, in large print, although these are still + continued. The reform rallies resemble matinees no longer, and two real + reporters accompany Mr. Crewe on his tours. Nay, the campaign of education + has already borne fruit, which the candidate did not hesitate to mention + in his talks Edmundton has more trains, Kingston has more trains, and more + cars. No need now to stand up for twenty miles on a hot day; and more cars + are building, and more engines; likewise some rates have been lowered. And + editors who declare that the Northeastern gives the State a pretty good + government have, like the guinea pigs, long been suppressed. + </p> + <p> + In these days were many councils at Fairview and in the offices of the + Honourable Hilary Vane at Ripton; councils behind closed doors, from which + the councillors emerged with smiling faces that men might not know the + misgivings in their hearts; councils, nevertheless, out of which leaked + rumours of dissension and recrimination conditions hitherto unheard of. + One post ran to meet another, and one messenger ran to meet another; and + it was even reported—though on doubtful authority—after the + rally in his town the Honourable Jacob Botcher had made the remark that, + under certain conditions, he might become a reformer. + </p> + <p> + None of these upsetting rumours, however, were allowed by Mr. Bascom and + other gentlemen close to the Honourable Adam B. Hunt to reach that + candidate, who continued to smoke in tranquillity on the porch of his home + until the fifteenth day of August. At eight o'clock that morning the + postman brought him a letter marked personal, the handwriting on which he + recognized as belonging to the Honourable Hilary Vane. For some reason, as + he read, the sensations of the Honourable Adam were disquieting; the + contents of the letter, to say the least, were peculiar. “To-morrow, at + noon precisely, I shall be driving along the Broad Brook road by the + abandoned mill—three miles towards Edmundton from Hull. I hope you + will find it convenient to be there.” + </p> + <p> + These were the strange words the Honourable Hilary had written, and the + Honourable Adam knew that it was an order. At that very instant Mr. Hunt + had been reading in the Guardian the account of an overflow meeting in + Newcastle, by his opponent, in which Mr. Crewe had made some particularly + choice remarks about him; and had been cheered to the echo. The Honourable + Adam put the paper down, and walked up the street to talk to Mr. Burrows, + the postmaster whom, with the aid of Congressman Fairplay, he had had + appointed at Edmundton. The two racked their brains for three hours; and + Postmaster Burrows, who was the fortunate possessor of a pass, offered to + go down to Ripton in the interest of his liege lord and see what was up. + The Honourable Adam, however, decided that he could wait for twenty-four + hours. + </p> + <p> + The morning of the sixteenth dawned clear, as beautiful a summer's day for + a drive as any man could wish. But the spirit of the Honourable Adam did + not respond to the weather, and he had certain vague forebodings as his + horse jogged toward Hull, although these did not take such a definite + shape as to make him feel a premonitory pull of his coat-tails. The ruined + mill beside the rushing stream was a picturesque spot, and the figure of + the Honourable Hilary Vane, seated on the old millstone, in the green and + gold shadows of a beech, gave an interesting touch of life to the + landscape. The Honourable Adam drew up and eyed his friend and associate + of many years before addressing him. + </p> + <p> + “How are you, Hilary?” + </p> + <p> + “Hitch your horse,” said Mr. Vane. + </p> + <p> + The Honourable Adam was some time in picking out a convenient tree. Then + he lighted a cigar, and approached Mr. Vane, and at length let himself + down, cautiously, on the millstone. Sitting on his porch had not improved + Mr. Hunt's figure. + </p> + <p> + “This is kind of mysterious, ain't it, Hilary?” he remarked, with a tug at + his goatee. + </p> + <p> + “I don't know but what it is,” admitted Mr. Vane, who did not look as + though the coming episode were to give him unqualified joy. + </p> + <p> + “Fine weather,” remarked the Honourable Adam, with a brave attempt at + geniality. + </p> + <p> + “The paper predicts rain to-morrow,” said the Honourable Hilary. + </p> + <p> + “You don't smoke, do you?” asked the Honourable Adam. + </p> + <p> + “No,” said the Honourable Hilary. + </p> + <p> + A silence, except for the music of the brook over the broken dam. + </p> + <p> + “Pretty place,” said the Honourable Adam; “I kissed my wife here once—before + I was married.” + </p> + <p> + This remark, although of interest, the Honourable Hilary evidently thought + did not require an answer: + </p> + <p> + “Adam,” said Mr. Vane, presently, “how much money have you spent so far?” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said Mr. Hunt, “it has been sort of costly, but Brush and the boys + tell me the times are uncommon, and I guess they are. If that crazy cuss + Crewe hadn't broken loose, it would have been different. Not that I'm + uneasy about him, but all this talk of his and newspaper advertising had + to be counteracted some. Why, he has a couple of columns a week right here + in the Edmundton Courier. The papers are bleedin' him to death, certain.” + </p> + <p> + “How much have you spent?” asked the Honourable Hilary. + </p> + <p> + The Honourable Adam screwed up his face and pulled his goatee + thoughtfully. + </p> + <p> + “What are you trying to get at, Hilary,” he inquired, “sending for me to + meet you out here in the woods in this curious way? If you wanted to see + me, why didn't you get me to go down to Ripton, or come up and sit on my + porch? You've been there before.” + </p> + <p> + “Times,” said the Honourable Hilary, repeating, perhaps unconsciously, Mr. + Hunt's words, “are uncommon. This man Crewe's making more headway than you + think. The people don't know him, and he's struck a popular note. It's the + fashion to be down on railroads these days.” + </p> + <p> + “I've taken that into account,” replied Mr. Hunt. + </p> + <p> + “It's unlucky, and it comes high. I don't think he's got a show for the + nomination, but my dander's up, and I'll beat him if I have to mortgage my + house.” + </p> + <p> + The Honourable Hilary grunted, and ruminated. + </p> + <p> + “How much did you say you'd spent, Adam?” + </p> + <p> + “If you think I'm not free enough, I'll loosen up a little more,” said the + Honourable Adam. + </p> + <p> + “How free have you been?” said the Honourable Hilary. + </p> + <p> + For some reason the question, put in this form, was productive of results. + </p> + <p> + “I can't say to a dollar, but I've got all the amounts down in a book. I + guess somewhere in the neighbourhood of nine thousand would cover it.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Vane grunted again. + </p> + <p> + “Would you take a cheque, Adam?” he inquired. + </p> + <p> + “What for?” cried the Honourable Adam. + </p> + <p> + “For the amount you've spent,” said the Honourable Hilary, sententiously. + </p> + <p> + The Honourable Adam began to breathe with apparent difficulty, and his + face grew purple. But Mr. Vane did not appear to notice these alarming + symptoms. Then the candidate turned about, as on a pivot, seized Mr. Vane + by the knee, and looked into his face. + </p> + <p> + “Did you come up here with orders for me to get out?” he demanded, with + some pardonable violence. “By thunder, I didn't think that of my old + friend, Hilary Vane. You ought to have known me better, and Flint ought to + have known me better. There ain't a mite of use of our staying here + another second, and you can go right back and tell Flint what I said. + Flint knows I've been waiting to be governor for eight years, and each + year it's been just a year ahead. You ask him what he said to me when he + sent for me to go to New York. I thought he was a man of his word, and he + promised me that I should be governor this year.” + </p> + <p> + The Honourable Hilary gave no indication of being moved by this righteous + outburst. + </p> + <p> + “You can be governor next year, when this reform nonsense has blown over,” + he said. “You can't be this year, even if you stay in the race.” + </p> + <p> + “Why not?” the Honourable Adam asked pugnaciously. + </p> + <p> + “Your record won't stand it—not just now,” said Mr. Vane, slowly. + </p> + <p> + “My record is just as good as yours, or any man's,” said the Honourable + Adam. + </p> + <p> + “I never run for office,” answered Mr. Vane. + </p> + <p> + “Haven't I spent the days of my active life in the service of that road—and + is this my reward? Haven't I done what Flint wanted always?” + </p> + <p> + “That's just the trouble,” said the Honourable Hilary; “too many folks + know it. If we're going to win this time, we've got to have a man who's + never had any Northeastern connections.” + </p> + <p> + “Who have you picked?” demanded the Honourable Adam, with alarming + calmness. + </p> + <p> + “We haven't picked anybody yet,” said Mr. Vane, “but the man who goes in + will give you a cheque for what you've spent, and you can be governor next + time.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, if this isn't the d—dest, coldest-blooded proposition ever + made, I want to know!” cried the Honourable Adam. “Will Flint put up a + bond of one hundred thousand dollars that I'll be nominated and elected + next year? This is the clearest case of going back on an old friend I ever + saw. If this is the way you fellows get scared because a sham reformer + gets up and hollers against the road, then I want to serve notice on you + that I'm not made of that kind of stuff. When I go into a fight, I go in + to stay, and you can't pull me out by the coat-tails in favour of a saint + who's never done a lick of work for the road. You tell Flint that.” + </p> + <p> + “All right, Adam,” said Hilary. + </p> + <p> + Some note in Hilary's voice, as he made this brief answer, suddenly + sobered the Honourable Adam, and sent a cold chill down his spine. He had + had many dealings with Mr. Vane, and he had always been as putty in the + chief counsel's hands. This simple acquiescence did more to convince the + Honourable Adam that his chances of nomination were in real danger than a + long and forceful summary of the situation could have accomplished. But + like many weak men, the Honourable Adam had a stubborn streak, and a + fatuous idea that opposition and indignation were signs of strength. + </p> + <p> + “I've made sacrifices for the road before, and effaced myself. But by + thunder, this is too much!” + </p> + <p> + Corporations, like republics, are proverbially ungrateful. The Honourable + Hilary might have voiced this sentiment, but refrained. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Flint's a good friend of yours, Adam. He wanted me to say that he'd + always taken care of you, and always would, so far as in his power. If you + can't be landed this time, it's common sense for you to get out, and wait—isn't + it? We'll see that you get a cheque to cover what you've put out.” + </p> + <p> + The humour in this financial sacrifice of Mr. Flint's (which the unknown + new candidate was to make with a cheque) struck neither the Honourable + Adam nor the Honourable Hilary. The transaction, if effected, would + resemble that of the shrine to the Virgin built by a grateful Marquis of + Mantua—which a Jew paid for. + </p> + <p> + The Honourable Adam got to his feet. + </p> + <p> + “You can tell Flint,” he said, “that if he will sign a bond of one hundred + thousand dollars to elect me next time, I'll get out. That's my last + word.” + </p> + <p> + “All right, Adam,” replied Mr. Vane, rising also. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Hunt stared at the Honourable Hilary thoughtfully; and although the + gubernatorial candidate was not an observant man, he was suddenly struck + by the fact that the chief counsel was growing old. + </p> + <p> + “I won't hold this against you, Hilary,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “Politics,” said the Honourable Hilary, “are business matters.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll show Flint that it would have been good business to stick to me,” + said the Honourable Adam. “When he gets panicky, and spends all his money + on new equipment and service, it's time for me to drop him. You can tell + him so from me.” + </p> + <p> + “Hadn't you better write him?” said the Honourable Hilary. + </p> + <p> + The rumour of the entry of Mr. Giles Henderson of Kingston into the + gubernatorial contest preceded, by ten days or so, the actual event. It is + difficult for the historian to unravel the precise circumstances which led + to this candidacy. Conservative citizens throughout the State, it was + understood, had become greatly concerned over the trend political affairs + were taking; the radical doctrines of one candidate—propounded for + very obvious reasons—they turned from in disgust; on the other hand, + it was evident that an underlying feeling existed in certain sections that + any candidate who was said to have had more or less connection with the + Northeastern Railroads was undesirable at the present time. This was not + to be taken as a reflection on the Northeastern, which had been the chief + source of the State's prosperity, but merely as an acknowledgment that a + public opinion undoubtedly existed, and ought to be taken into + consideration by the men who controlled the Republican party. + </p> + <p> + This was the gist of leading articles which appeared simultaneously in + several newspapers, apparently before the happy thought of bringing + forward Mr. Giles Henderson had occurred to anybody. He was mentioned + first, and most properly, by the editor of the “Kingston Pilot;” and the + article, with comments upon it, ran like wildfire through the press of the + State,—appearing even in those sheets which maintained editorially + that they were for the Honourable Adam B. Hunt first and last and, all the + time. Whereupon Mr. Giles Henderson began to receive visits from the solid + men—not politicians of the various cities and counties. For + instance, Mr. Silas Tredway of Ripton, made such a pilgrimage and, as a + citizen who had voted in 1860 for Abraham Lincoln (showing Mr. Tredway + himself to have been a radical once), appealed to Mr. Henderson to save + the State. + </p> + <p> + At first Mr. Henderson would give no ear to these appeals, but shook his + head pessimistically. He was not a politician—so much the better, we + don't want a politician; he was a plain business man exactly what is + needed; a conservative, level-headed business man wholly lacking in those + sensational qualities which are a stench in the nostrils of good citizens. + Mr. Giles Henderson admitted that the time had come when a man of these + qualities was needed—but he was not the man. Mr. Tredway was the man—so + he told Mr. Tredway; Mr. Gates of Brampton was the man—so he assured + Mr. Gates. Mr. Henderson had no desire to meddle in politics; his life was + a happy and a full one. But was it not Mr. Henderson's duty? Cincinnatus + left the plough, and Mr. Henderson should leave the ledger at the call of + his countrymen. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Giles Henderson was mild-mannered and blue-eyed, with a scanty beard + that was turning white; he was a deacon of the church, a member of the + school board, president of the Kingston National Bank; the main business + of his life had been in coal (which incidentally had had to be transported + over the Northeastern Railroads); and coal rates, for some reason, were + cheaper from Kingston than from many points out of the State the distances + of which were nearer. Mr. Henderson had been able to sell his coal at a + lower price than any other large dealer in the eastern part of the State. + Mr. Henderson was the holder of a large amount of stock in the + Northeastern, inherited from his father. Facts of no special significance, + and not printed in the weekly newspapers. Mr. Henderson lived in a gloomy + Gothic house on High Street, ate three very plain meals a day, and drank + iced water. He had been a good husband and a good father, and had always + voted the Republican ticket. He believed in the gold standard, a high + tariff, and eternal damnation. At last his resistance was overcome, and he + consented to allow his name to be used. + </p> + <p> + It was used, with a vengeance. Spontaneous praise of Mr. Giles Henderson + bubbled up all over the State, and editors who were for the Honourable + Adam B. Hunt suddenly developed a second choice. No man within the borders + of the commonwealth had so many good qualities as the new candidate, and + it must have been slightly annoying to one of that gentleman's shrinking + nature to read daily, on coming down to breakfast, a list of virtues + attributed to him as long as a rate schedule. How he must have longed for + the record of one wicked deed to make him human! + </p> + <p> + Who will pick a flaw in the character of the Honourable Giles Henderson? + Let that man now stand forth. + </p> + <p> + The news of the probable advent of Mr. Giles Henderson on the field, as + well as the tidings of his actual consent to be a candidate, were not slow + in reaching Leith. And—Mr. Crewe's Bureau of Information being in + perfect working order—the dastardly attempt on the Honourable Adam + B. Hunt's coat-tails was known there. More wonders to relate: the + Honourable Adam B. Hunt had become a reformer; he had made a statement at + last, in which he declared with vigour that no machine or ring was behind + him; he stood on his own merits, invited the minutest inspection of his + record, declared that he was an advocate of good government, and if + elected would be the servant of no man and of no corporation. + </p> + <p> + Thrice-blessed State, in which there were now three reform candidates for + governor! + </p> + <p> + All of these happenings went to indicate confusion in the enemy's camp, + and corresponding elation in Mr. Crewe's. Woe to the reputation for + political sagacity of the gentleman who had used the words “negligible” + and “monumental farce”! The tide was turning, and the candidate from Leith + redoubled his efforts. Had he been confounded by the advent of the + Honourable Giles? Not at all. Mr. Crewe was not given to satire; his + methods, as we know, were direct. Hence the real author of the following + passage in his speech before an overflow meeting in the State capital + remains unknown: + </p> + <p> + “My friends,” Mr. Crewe had said, “I have been waiting for the time when + St. Giles of the Blameless Life would be pushed forward, apparently as the + only hope of our so-called 'solid citizens.' (Prolonged laughter, and + audible repetitions of Mr. Henderson's nickname, which was to stick.) I + will tell you by whose desire St. Giles became a candidate, and whose + bidding he will do if he becomes governor as blindly and obediently as the + Honourable Adam B. Hunt ever did. (Shouts of “Flint!” and, “The + Northeastern!”) I see you know. Who sent the solid citizens to see Mr. + Henderson? (“Flint!”) This is a clever trick—exactly what I should + have done if I'd been running their campaign—only they didn't do it + early enough. They picked Mr. Giles Henderson for two reasons: because he + lives in Kingston, which is anti-railroad and supported the Gaylord bill, + and, because he never in his life committed any positive action, good or + bad—and he never will. And they made another mistake—the + Honourable Adam B. Hunt wouldn't back out.” (Laughter and cheers.) + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0022" id="link2HCH0022"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXII. IN WHICH EUPHRASIA TAKES A HAND + </h2> + <p> + Austen had not forgotten his promise to Euphrasia, and he had gone to + Hanover Street many times since his sojourn at Mr. Jabe Jenney's. Usually + these visits had taken place in the middle of the day, when Euphrasia, + with gentle but determined insistence, had made him sit down before some + morsel which she had prepared against his coming, and which he had not the + heart to refuse. In answer to his inquiries about Hilary, she would toss + her head and reply, disdainfully, that he was as comfortable as he should + be. For Euphrasia had her own strict ideas of justice, and to her mind + Hilary's suffering was deserved. That suffering was all the more terrible + because it was silent, but Euphrasia was a stern woman. To know that he + missed Austen, to feel that Hilary was being justly punished for his + treatment of her idol, for his callous neglect and lack of realization of + the blessings of his life—these were Euphrasia's grim compensations. + </p> + <p> + At times, even, she had experienced a strange rejoicing that she had + promised Austen to remain with his father, for thus it had been given her + to be the daily witness of a retribution for which she had longed during + many years. Nor did she strive to hide her feelings. Their intercourse, + never voluminous, had shrunk to the barest necessities for the use of + speech; but Hilary, ever since the night of his son's departure, had read + in the face of his housekeeper a knowledge of his suffering, an exultation + a thousand times more maddening than the little reproaches of language + would have been. He avoided her more than ever, and must many times have + regretted bitterly the fact that he had betrayed himself to her. As for + Euphrasia, she had no notion of disclosing Hilary's torture to his son. + She was determined that the victory, when it came, should be Austen's, and + the surrender Hilary's. + </p> + <p> + “He manages to eat his meals, and gets along as common,” she would reply. + “He only thinks of himself and that railroad.” + </p> + <p> + But Austen read between the lines. + </p> + <p> + “Poor old Judge,” he would answer; “it's because he's made that way, + Phrasie. He can't help it, any more than I can help flinging law-books on + the floor and running off to the country to have a good time. You know as + well as I do that he hasn't had much joy out of life; that he'd like to be + different, only he doesn't know how.” + </p> + <p> + “I can't see that it takes much knowledge to treat a wife and son like + human beings,” Euphrasia retorted; “that's only common humanity. For a man + that goes to meetin' twice a week, you'd have thought he'd have learned + something by this time out of the New Testament. He's prayed enough in his + life, goodness knows!” + </p> + <p> + Now Euphrasia's ordinarily sharp eyes were sharpened an hundred fold by + affection; and of late, at odd moments during his visits, Austen had + surprised them fixed on him with a penetration that troubled him. + </p> + <p> + “You don't seem to fancy the tarts as much as you used to,” she would + remark. “Time was when you'd eat three and four at a sittin'.” + </p> + <p> + “Phrasie, one of your persistent fallacies is, that I'm still a boy.” + </p> + <p> + “You ain't yourself,” said Euphrasia, ignoring this pleasantry, “and you + ain't been yourself for some months. I've seen it. I haven't brought you + up for nothing. If he's troubling you, don't you worry a mite. He ain't + worth it. He eats better than you do.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm not worrying much about that,” Austen answered, smiling. “The Judge + and I will patch it up before long—I'm sure. He's worried now over + these people who are making trouble for his railroad.” + </p> + <p> + “I wish railroads had never been invented,” cried Euphrasia. “It seems to + me they bring nothing but trouble. My mother used to get along pretty well + in a stage-coach.” + </p> + <p> + One evening in September, when the summer days were rapidly growing + shorter and the mists rose earlier in the valley of the Blue, Austen, who + had stayed late at the office preparing a case, ate his supper at the + Ripton House. As he sat in the big dining room, which was almost empty, + the sense of loneliness which he had experienced so often of late came + over him, and he thought of Euphrasia. His father, he knew, had gone to + Kingston for the night, and so he drove up Hanover Street and hitched + Pepper to the stone post before the door. Euphrasia, according to an + invariable custom, would be knitting in the kitchen at this hour; and at + the sight of him in the window, she dropped her work with a little, joyful + cry. + </p> + <p> + “I was just thinking of you!” she said, in a low voice of tenderness which + many people would not have recognized as Euphrasia's; as though her + thoughts of him were the errant ones of odd moments! “I'm so glad you + come. It's lonesome here of evenings, Austen.” + </p> + <p> + He entered silently and sat down beside her, in a Windsor chair which had + belonged to some remote Austen of bygone days. + </p> + <p> + “You don't have as good things to eat up at Mis' Jenney's as I give you,” + she remarked. “Not that you appear to care much for eatables any more. + Austen, are you feeling poorly?” + </p> + <p> + “I can dig more potatoes in a day than any other man in Ripton,” he + declared. + </p> + <p> + “You'd ought to get married,” said Euphrasia, abruptly. “I've told you + that before, but you never seem to pay any attention to what I say.” + </p> + <p> + “Why haven't you tried it, Phrasie?” he retorted. + </p> + <p> + He was not prepared for what followed. Euphrasia did not answer at once, + but presently her knitting dropped to her lap, and she sat staring at the + old clock on the kitchen shelf. + </p> + <p> + “He never asked me,” she said, simply. + </p> + <p> + Austen was silent. The answer seemed to recall, with infinite pathos, + Euphrasia's long-lost youth, and he had not thought of youth as a quality + which could ever have pertained to her. She must have been young once, and + fresh, and full of hope for herself; she must have known, long ago, + something of what he now felt, something of the joy and pain, something of + the inexpressible, never ceasing yearning for the fulfilment of a desire + that dwarfed all others. Euphrasia had been denied that fulfilment. And he—would + he, too, be denied it? + </p> + <p> + Out of Euphrasia's eyes, as she gazed at the mantel-shelf, shone the light + of undying fires within—fires which at a touch could blaze forth + after endless years, transforming the wrinkled face, softening the sterner + lines of character. And suddenly there was a new bond between the two. So + used are the young to the acceptance of the sacrifice of the old that they + lose sight of that sacrifice. But Austen saw now, in a flash, the years of + Euphrasia's self-denial, the years of memories, the years of regrets for + that which might have been. + </p> + <p> + “Phrasie,” he said, laying a hand on hers, which rested on the arm of the + chair, “I was only joking, you know.” + </p> + <p> + “I know, I know,” Euphrasia answered hastily, and turned and looked into + his face searchingly. Her eyes were undimmed, and the light was still in + them which revealed a soul of which he had had no previous knowledge. + </p> + <p> + “I know you was, dear. I never told that to a living being except your + mother. He's dead now—he never knew. But I told her—I couldn't + help it. She had a way of drawing things out of you, and you just couldn't + resist. I'll never forget that day she came in here and looked at me and + took my hand—same as you have it now. She wasn't married then. I'll + never forget the sound of her voice as she said, 'Euphrasia, tell me about + it.'” (Here Euphrasia's own voice trembled.) “I told her, just as I'm + telling you,—because I couldn't help it. Folks, had to tell her + things.” + </p> + <p> + She turned her hand and clasped his tightly with her own thin fingers. + </p> + <p> + “And oh, Austen,” she cried, “I want so that you should be happy! She was + so unhappy, it doesn't seem right that you should be, too.” + </p> + <p> + “I shall be, Phrasie,” he said; “you mustn't worry about that.” + </p> + <p> + For a while the only sound in the room was the ticking of the old clock + with the quaint, coloured picture on its panel. And then, with a movement + which, strangely, was an acute reminder of a way Victoria had, Euphrasia + turned and searched his face once more. + </p> + <p> + “You're not happy,” she said. + </p> + <p> + He could not put this aside—nor did he wish to. Her own confidence + had been so simple, so fine, so sure of his sympathy, that he felt it + would be unworthy to equivocate; the confessions of the self-reliant are + sacred things. Yes, and there had been times when he had longed to + unburden himself; but he had had no intimate on this plane, and despite + the great sympathy between them—that Euphrasia might understand had + never occurred to him. She had read his secret. + </p> + <p> + In that instant Euphrasia, with the instinct which love lends to her sex, + had gone farther; indignation seized her—and the blame fell upon the + woman. Austen's words, unconsciously, were an answer to her thoughts. + </p> + <p> + “It isn't anybody's fault but my own,” he said. + </p> + <p> + Euphrasia's lips were tightly closed. Long ago the idol of her youth had + faded into the substance of which dreams are made—to be recalled by + dreams alone; another worship had filled her heart, and Austen Vane had + become—for her—the fulness and the very meaning of life + itself; one to be admired of all men, to be desired of all women. Visions + of Austen's courtship had at times risen in her mind, although Euphrasia + would not have called it a courtship. When the time came, Austen would + confer; and so sure of his judgment was Euphrasia that she was prepared to + take the recipient of the priceless gift into her arms. And now! Was it + possible that a woman lived who would even hesitate? Curiosity seized + Euphrasia with the intensity of a passion. Who was this woman? When and + where had he seen her? Ripton could not have produced her—for it was + characteristic of Euphrasia that no girl of her acquaintance was worthy to + be raised to such a height; Austen's wife would be an unknown of ideal + appearance and attainments. Hence indignation rocked Euphrasia, and doubts + swayed her. In this alone she had been an idealist, but she might have + known that good men were a prey to the unworthy of the opposite sex. + </p> + <p> + She glanced at Austen's face, and he smiled at her gently, as though he + divined something of her thoughts. + </p> + <p> + “If it isn't your fault, that you're not happy, then the matter's easily + mended,” she said. + </p> + <p> + He shook his head at her, as though in reproof. + </p> + <p> + “Was yours—easily mended?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + Euphrasia was silent a moment. + </p> + <p> + “He never knew,” she repeated, in a low voice. + </p> + <p> + “Well, Phrasie, it looks very much as if we were in the same boat,” he + said. + </p> + <p> + Euphrasia's heart gave a bound. + </p> + <p> + “Then you haven't spoke!” she cried; “I knew you hadn't. I—I was a + woman—but sometimes I've thought I'd ought to have given him some + sign. You're a man, Austen; thank God for it, you're a man. If a man loves + a woman, he's only got to tell her so.” + </p> + <p> + “It isn't as simple as that,” he answered. + </p> + <p> + Euphrasia gave him a startled glance. + </p> + <p> + “She ain't married?” she exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + “No,” he said, and laughed in spite of himself. + </p> + <p> + Euphrasia breathed again. For Sarah Austen had had a morality of her own, + and on occasions had given expression to extreme views. + </p> + <p> + “She's not playin' with you?” was Euphrasia's next question, and her tone + boded ill to any young person who would indulge in these tactics with + Austen. + </p> + <p> + He shook his head again, and smiled at her vehemence. + </p> + <p> + “No, she's not playing with me—she isn't that kind. I'd like to tell + you, but I can't—I can't. It was only because you guessed that I + said anything about it.” He disengaged his hand, and rose, and patted her + on the cheek. “I suppose I had to tell somebody,” he said, “and you + seemed, somehow, to be the right person, Phrasie.” + </p> + <p> + Euphrasia rose abruptly and looked up intently into his face. He thought + it strange afterwards, as he drove along the dark roads, that she had not + answered him. + </p> + <p> + Even though the matter were on the knees of the gods, Euphrasia would have + taken it thence, if she could. Nor did Austen know that she shared with + him, that night, his waking hours. + </p> + <p> + The next morning Mr. Thomas Gaylord, the younger, was making his way + towards the office of the Gaylord Lumber Company, conveniently situated on + Willow Street, near the railroad. Young Tom was in a particularly jovial + frame of mind, despite the fact that he had arrived in Ripton, on the + night express, as early as five o'clock in the morning. He had been + touring the State ostensibly on lumber business, but young Tom had a large + and varied personal as well as commercial acquaintance, and he had the + inestimable happiness of being regarded as an honest man, while his rough + and genial qualities made him beloved. For these reasons and others of a + more material nature, suggestions from Mr. Thomas Gaylord were apt to be + well received—and Tom had been making suggestions. + </p> + <p> + Early as he was at his office—the office-boy was sprinkling the floor—young + Tom had a visitor who was earlier still. Pausing in the doorway, Mr. + Gaylord beheld with astonishment a prim, elderly lady in a stiff, black + dress sitting upright on the edge of a capacious oak chair which seemed + itself rather discomfited by what it contained,—for its hospitality + had hitherto been extended to visitors of a very different sort. + </p> + <p> + “Well, upon my soul,” cried young Tom, “if it isn't Euphrasia!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, it's me,” said Euphrasia; “I've been to market, and I had a notion + to see you before I went home.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Gaylord took the office-boy lightly by the collar of his coat and + lifted him, sprinkling can and all, out of the doorway and closed the + door. Then he drew his revolving chair close to Euphrasia, and sat down. + They were old friends, and more than once in a youth far from model Tom + had experienced certain physical reproof at her hands, for which he bore + no ill-will. There was anxiety on his face as he asked:—“There + hasn't been any accident, has there, Euphrasia?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” she said. + </p> + <p> + “No new row?” inquired Tom. + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Euphrasia. She was a direct person, as we know, but true + descendants of the Puritans believe in the decency of preliminaries, and + here was certainly an affair not to be plunged into. Euphrasia was a + spinster in the strictest sense of that formidable and highly descriptive + term, and she intended ultimately to discuss with Tom a subject of which + she was supposed by tradition to be wholly ignorant, the mere mention of + which still brought warmth to her cheeks. Such a delicate matter should + surely be led up to delicately. In the meanwhile Tom was mystified. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I'm mighty glad to see you, anyhow,” he said heartily. “It was fond + of you to call, Euphrasia. I can't offer you a cigar.” + </p> + <p> + “I should think not,” said Euphrasia. + </p> + <p> + Tom reddened. He still retained for her some of his youthful awe. + </p> + <p> + “I can't do the honours of hospitality as I'd wish to,” he went on; “I + can't give you anything like the pies you used to give me.” + </p> + <p> + “You stole most of 'em,” said Euphrasia. + </p> + <p> + “I guess that's so,” said young Tom, laughing, “but I'll never taste pies + like 'em again as long as I live. Do you know, Euphrasia, there were two + reasons why those were the best pies I ever ate?” + </p> + <p> + “What were they?” she asked, apparently unmoved. + </p> + <p> + “First,” said Tom, “because you made 'em, and second, because they were + stolen.” + </p> + <p> + Truly, young Tom had a way with women, had he only been aware of it. + </p> + <p> + “I never took much stock in stolen things,” said Euphrasia. + </p> + <p> + “It's because you never were tempted with such pie as that,” replied the + audacious Mr. Gaylord. + </p> + <p> + “You're gettin' almighty stout,” said Euphrasia. + </p> + <p> + As we see her this morning, could she indeed ever have had a love affair? + </p> + <p> + “I don't have to use my legs as much as I once did,” said Tom. And this + remark brought to an end the first phase of this conversation,—brought + to an end, apparently, all conversation whatsoever. Tom racked his brain + for a new topic, opened his roll-top desk, drummed on it, looked up at the + ceiling and whistled softly, and then turned and faced again the + imperturbable Euphrasia. + </p> + <p> + “Euphrasia,” he said, “you're not exactly a politician, I believe.” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said Euphrasia, “I've be'n maligned a good many times, but nobody + ever went that far.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Gaylord shook with laughter. + </p> + <p> + “Then I guess there's no harm in confiding political secrets to you,” he + said. “I've been around the State some this week, talking to people I + know, and I believe if your Austen wasn't so obstinate, we could make him + governor.” + </p> + <p> + “Obstinate?” ejaculated Euphrasia. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Tom, with a twinkle in his eye, “obstinate. He doesn't seem to + want something that most men would give their souls for.” + </p> + <p> + “And why should he dirty himself with politics?” she demanded. “In the + years I've lived with Hilary Vane I've seen enough of politicians, + goodness knows. I never want to see another.” + </p> + <p> + “If Austen was governor, we'd change some of that. But mind, Euphrasia, + this is a secret,” said Tom, raising a warning finger. “If Austen hears + about it now, the jig's up.” + </p> + <p> + Euphrasia considered and thawed a little. + </p> + <p> + “They don't often have governors that young, do they?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Tom, forcibly, “they don't. And so far as I know, they haven't + had such a governor for years as Austen would make. But he won't push + himself. You know, Euphrasia, I have always believed that he will be + President some day.” + </p> + <p> + Euphrasia received this somewhat startling prediction complacently. She + had no doubt of its accuracy, but the enunciation of it raised young Tom + in her estimation, and incidentally brought her nearer her topic. + </p> + <p> + “Austen ain't himself lately,” she remarked. + </p> + <p> + “I knew that he didn't get along with Hilary,” said Tom, sympathetically, + beginning to realize now that Euphrasia had come to talk about her idol. + </p> + <p> + “It's Hilary doesn't get along with him,” she retorted indignantly. “He's + responsible—not Austen. Of all the narrow, pig-headed, selfish men + the Lord ever created, Hilary Vane's the worst. It's Hilary drove him out + of his mother's house to live with strangers. It's Austen that comes + around to inquire for his father—Hilary never has a word to say + about Austen.” A trace of colour actually rose under Euphrasia's sallow + skin, and she cast her eyes downward. “You've known him a good while, + haven't you, Tom?” + </p> + <p> + “All my life,” said Tom, mystified again, “all my life. And I, think more + of him than of anybody else in the world.” + </p> + <p> + “I calculated as much,” she said; “that's why I came.” She hesitated. + Artful Euphrasia! We will let the ingenuous Mr. Gaylord be the first to + mention this delicate matter, if possible. “Goodness knows, it ain't + Hilary I came to talk about. I had a notion that you'd know if anything + else was troubling Austen.” + </p> + <p> + “Why,” said Tom, “there can't be any business troubles outside of those + Hilary's mixed up in. Austen doesn't spend any money to speak of, except + what he gives away, and he's practically chief counsel for our company.” + </p> + <p> + Euphrasia was silent a moment. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose there's nothing else that could bother him,” she remarked. She + had never held Tom Gaylord's powers of comprehension in high estimation, + and the estimate had not risen during this visit. But she had undervalued + him; even Tom could rise to an inspiration—when the sources of all + other inspirations were eliminated. + </p> + <p> + “Why,” he exclaimed, with a masculine lack of delicacy, “he may be in love—” + </p> + <p> + “That's struck you, has it?” said Euphrasia. + </p> + <p> + But Tom appeared to be thinking; he was, in truth, engaged in collecting + his cumulative evidence: Austen's sleigh-ride at the capital, which he had + discovered; his talk with Victoria after her fall, when she had betrayed + an interest in Austen which Tom had thought entirely natural; and finally + Victoria's appearance at Mr. Crewe's rally in Ripton. Young Mr. Gaylord + had not had a great deal of experience in affairs of the heart, and he was + himself aware that his diagnosis in such a matter would not carry much + weight. He had conceived a tremendous admiration for Victoria, which had + been shaken a little by the suspicion that she might be intending to marry + Mr. Crewe. Tom Gaylord saw no reason why Austen Vane should not marry Mr. + Flint's daughter if he chose—or any other man's daughter; partaking, + in this respect, somewhat of Euphrasia's view. As for Austen himself, Tom + had seen no symptoms; but then, he reflected, he would not be likely to + see any. However, he perceived the object now of Euphrasia's visit, and + began to take the liveliest interest in it. + </p> + <p> + “So you think Austen's in love?” he demanded. + </p> + <p> + Euphrasia sat up straighter, if anything. + </p> + <p> + “I didn't say anything of the kind,” she returned. + </p> + <p> + “He wouldn't tell me, you know,” said Tom; “I can only guess at it.” + </p> + <p> + “And the—lady?” said Euphrasia, craftily. + </p> + <p> + “I'm up a tree there, too. All I know is that he took her sleigh-riding + one afternoon at the capital, and wouldn't tell me who he was going to + take. And then she fell off her horse down at East Tunbridge Station—” + </p> + <p> + “Fell off her horse!” echoed Euphrasia, an accident comparable in her mind + to falling off a roof. What manner of young woman was this who fell off + horses? + </p> + <p> + “She wasn't hurt,” Tom continued, “and she rode the beast home. He was a + wild one, I can tell you, and she's got pluck. That's the first time I + ever met her, although I had often seen her and thought she was a stunner + to look at. She talked as if she took an interest in Austen.” + </p> + <p> + An exact portrayal of Euphrasia's feelings at this description of the + object of Austen's affections is almost impossible. A young woman who was + a stunner, who rode wild horses and fell off them and rode them again, was + beyond the pale not only of Euphrasia's experience but of her imagination + likewise. And this hoyden had talked as though she took an interest in + Austen! Euphrasia was speechless. + </p> + <p> + “The next time I saw her,” said Tom, “was when she came down here to + listen to Humphrey Crewe's attacks on the railroad. I thought that was a + sort of a queer thing for Flint's daughter to do, but Austen didn't seem + to look at it that way. He talked to her after the show was over.” + </p> + <p> + At this point Euphrasia could contain herself no longer, and in her + excitement she slipped off the edge of the chair and on to her feet. + </p> + <p> + “Flint's daughter?” she cried; “Augustus P. Flint's daughter?” + </p> + <p> + Tom looked at her in amazement. + </p> + <p> + “Didn't you know who it was?” he stammered. But Euphrasia was not + listening. + </p> + <p> + “I've seen her,” she was saying; “I've seen her ridin' through Ripton in + that little red wagon, drivin' herself, with a coachman perched up beside + her. Flint's daughter!” Euphrasia became speechless once more, the + complications opened up being too vast for intelligent comment. Euphrasia, + however, grasped some of the problems which Austen had had to face. + Moreover, she had learned what she had come for, and the obvious thing to + do now was to go home and reflect. So, without further ceremony, she + walked to the door and opened it, and turned again with her hand on the + knob. “Look here, Tom Gaylord,” she said, “if you tell Austen I was here, + I'll never forgive you. I don't believe you've got any more sense than to + do it.” + </p> + <p> + And with these words she took her departure, ere the amazed Mr. Gaylord + had time to show her out. Half an hour elapsed before he opened his + letters. + </p> + <p> + When she arrived home in Hanover Street it was nine o'clock—an hour + well on in the day for Euphrasia. Unlocking the kitchen door, she gave a + glance at the stove to assure herself that it had not been misbehaving, + and went into the passage on her way up-stairs to take off her gown before + sitting down to reflect upon the astonishing thing she had heard. Habit + had so crystallized in Euphrasia that no news, however amazing, could have + shaken it. But in the passage she paused; an unwonted, or rather untimely, + sound reached her ears, a sound which came from the front of the house—and + at nine o'clock in the morning! Had Austen been at home, Euphrasia would + have thought nothing of it. In her remembrance Hilary Vane, whether he + returned from a journey or not, had never been inside the house at that + hour on a week-day; and, unlike the gentleman in “La Vie de Boheme,” + Euphrasia did not have to be reminded of the Sabbath. + </p> + <p> + Perhaps Austen had returned! Or perhaps it was a burglar! Euphrasia, + undaunted, ran through the darkened front hall to where the graceful + banister ended in a curve at the foot of the stairs, and there, on the + bottom step, sat a man with his head in his hands. Euphrasia shrieked. He + looked up, and she saw that it was Hilary Vane. She would have shrieked, + anyway. + </p> + <p> + “What in the world's the matter with you?” she cried. + </p> + <p> + “I—I stumbled coming down the stairs,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “But what are you doing at home in the middle of the morning?” she + demanded. + </p> + <p> + He did not answer her. The subdued light which crept under the porch and + came in through the fan shaped window over the door fell on his face. + </p> + <p> + “Are you sick?” said Euphrasia. In all her life she had never seen him + look like that. + </p> + <p> + He shook his head, but did not attempt to rise. A Hilary Vane without + vigour! + </p> + <p> + “No,” he said, “no. I just came up here from the train to—get + somethin' I'd left in my room.” + </p> + <p> + “A likely story!” said Euphrasia. “You've never done that in thirty years. + You're sick, and I'm a-going for the doctor.” + </p> + <p> + She put her hand to his forehead, but he thrust it away and got to his + feet, although in the effort he compressed his lips and winced. + </p> + <p> + “You stay where you are,” he said; “I tell you I'm not sick, and I'm going + down to the square. Let the doctors alone—I haven't got any use for + 'em.” + </p> + <p> + He walked to the door, opened it, and went out and slammed it in her face. + By the time she had got it open again—a crack—he had reached + the sidewalk, and was apparently in full possession of his powers and + faculties. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0023" id="link2HCH0023"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXIII. A FALLING-OUT IN HIGH PLACES + </h2> + <p> + Although one of the most exciting political battles ever fought is fast + coming to its climax, and a now jubilant Mr. Crewe is contesting every + foot of ground in the State with the determination and pertinacity which + make him a marked man; although the convention wherein his fate will be + decided is now but a few days distant, and everything has been done to + secure a victory which mortal man can do, let us follow Hilary Vane to + Fairview. Not that Hilary has been idle. The “Book of Arguments” is + exhausted, and the chiefs and the captains have been to Ripton, and + received their final orders, but more than one has gone back to his fief + with the vision of a changed Hilary who has puzzled them. Rumours have + been in the air that the harmony between the Source of Power and the + Distribution of Power is not as complete as it once was. Certainly, Hilary + Vane is not the man he was—although this must not even be whispered. + Senator Whitredge had told—but never mind that. In the old days an + order was an order; there were no rebels then. In the old days there was + no wavering and rescinding, and if the chief counsel told you, with + brevity, to do a thing, you went and did it straightway, with the + knowledge that it was the best thing to do. Hilary Vane had aged suddenly, + and it occurred for the first time to many that, in this utilitarian + world, old blood must be superseded by young blood. + </p> + <p> + Two days before the convention, immediately after taking dinner at the + Ripton House with Mr. Nat Billings, Hilary Vane, in response to a summons, + drove up to Fairview. One driving behind him would have observed that the + Honourable Hilary's horse took his own gaits, and that the reins, most of + the time, drooped listlessly on his quarters. A September stillness was in + the air, a September purple clothed the distant hills, but to Hilary the + glories of the day were as things non-existent. Even the groom at + Fairview, who took his horse, glanced back at him with a peculiar + expression as he stood for a moment on the steps with a hesitancy the man + had never before remarked. + </p> + <p> + In the meantime Mr. Flint, with a pile of letters in a special basket on + the edge of his desk, was awaiting his counsel; the president of the + Northeastern was pacing his room, as was his wont when his activities were + for a moment curbed, or when he had something on his mind; and every few + moments he would glance towards his mantel at the clock which was set to + railroad time. In past days he had never known Hilary Vane to be a moment + late to an appointment. The door was open, and five and twenty minutes had + passed the hour before he saw the lawyer in the doorway. Mr. Flint was a + man of such preoccupation of mind that he was not likely to be struck by + any change there might have been in his counsel's appearance. + </p> + <p> + “It's half-past three,” he said. + </p> + <p> + Hilary entered, and sat down beside the window. + </p> + <p> + “You mean that I'm late,” he replied. + </p> + <p> + “I've got some engineers coming here in less than an hour,” said Mr. + Flint. + </p> + <p> + “I'll be gone in less than an hour,” said Hilary. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said Mr. Flint, “let's get down to hardtack. I've got to be frank + with you, Vane, and tell you plainly that this political business is all + at sixes and sevens.” + </p> + <p> + “It isn't necessary to tell me that,” said Hilary. + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean?” + </p> + <p> + “I mean that I know it.” + </p> + <p> + “To put it mildly,” the president of the Northeastern continued, “it's the + worst mixed-up campaign I ever knew. Here we are with the convention only + two days off, and we don't know where we stand, how many delegates we've + got, or whether this upstart at Leith is going to be nominated over our + heads. Here's Adam Hunt with his back up, declaring he's a reformer, and + all his section of the State behind him. Now if that could have been + handled otherwise—” + </p> + <p> + “Who told Hunt to go in?” Hilary inquired. + </p> + <p> + “Things were different then,” said Mr. Flint, vigorously. “Hunt had been + promised the governorship for a long time, and when Ridout became out of + the question—” + </p> + <p> + “Why did Ridout become out of the question?” asked Hilary. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Flint made a gesture of impatience. + </p> + <p> + “On account of that foolishness in the Legislature, of course.” + </p> + <p> + “That foolishness in the Legislature, as you call it, represented a + sentiment all over the State,” said Hilary. “And if I'd been you, I + wouldn't have let Hunt in this year. But you didn't ask my opinion. You + asked me when you begged me to get Adam out, and I predicted that he + wouldn't get out.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Flint took a turn up and down the room. + </p> + <p> + “I'm sorry I didn't send for him to go to New York,” he said. “Well, + anyway, the campaign's been muddled, that's certain,—whoever muddled + it.” And the president looked at his counsel as though he, at least, had + no doubts on this point. But Hilary appeared unaware of the implication, + and made no reply. + </p> + <p> + “I can't find out what Bascom and Botcher are doing,” Mr. Flint went on; + “I don't get any reports—they haven't been here. Perhaps you know. + They've had trip passes enough to move the whole population of Putnam + County. Fairplay says they're gettin' delegates for Adam Hunt instead of + Giles Henderson. And Whitredge says that Jake Botcher is talking reform.” + </p> + <p> + “I guess Botcher and Bascom know their business,” said Mr. Vane. If Mr. + Flint had been a less concentrated man, he might have observed that the + Honourable Hilary had not cut a piece of Honey Dew this afternoon. + </p> + <p> + “What is their business?” asked Mr. Flint—a little irrelevantly for + him. + </p> + <p> + “What you and I taught 'em,” said Mr. Vane. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Flint considered this a moment, and decided to let it pass. He looked + at the Honourable Hilary more closely, however. + </p> + <p> + “What's the matter with you, Vane? You're not sick, are you?” + </p> + <p> + “No.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Flint took another turn. + </p> + <p> + “Now the question is, what are we going to do? If you've got any plan, I + want to hear it.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Vane was silent. + </p> + <p> + “Suppose Crewe goes into the convention with enough delegates to lock it + up, so that none of the three has a majority?” + </p> + <p> + “I guess he'll do that,” said Mr. Vane. He fumbled in his pocket, and drew + out a typewritten list. It must be explained that the caucuses, or + primaries, had been held in the various towns of the State at odd dates, + and that the delegates pledged for the different candidates had been + published in the newspapers from time to time—although very much in + accordance with the desires of their individual newspapers. Mr. Crewe's + delegates necessarily had been announced by what is known as political + advertising. Mr. Flint took the Honourable Hilary's list, ran his eye over + it, and whistled. + </p> + <p> + “You mean he claims three hundred and fifty out of the thousand.” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Hilary, “he claims six hundred. He'll have three hundred and + fifty.” + </p> + <p> + In spite of the 'Book of Arguments,' Mr. Crewe was to have three hundred! + It was incredible, preposterous. Mr. Flint looked at his counsel once + more, and wondered whether he could be mentally failing. + </p> + <p> + “Fairplay only gives him two hundred.” + </p> + <p> + “Fairplay only gave him ten, in the beginning,” said Hilary. + </p> + <p> + “You come here two days before the convention and tell me Crewe has three + hundred and fifty!” Mr. Flint exclaimed, as though Hilary Vane were + personally responsible for Mr. Crewe's delegates. A very different tone + from that of other times, when conventions were mere ratifications of + Imperial decrees. “Do you realize what it means if we lose control? + Thousands and thousands of dollars in improvements—rolling stock, + better service, new bridges, and eliminations of grade crossings. And + they'll raise our tax rate to the average, which means thousands more. A + new railroad commission that we can't talk to, and lower dividends—lower + dividends, do you understand? That means trouble with the directors, the + stockholders, and calls for explanations. And what explanations can I make + which can be printed in a public report?” + </p> + <p> + “You were always pretty good at 'em, Flint,” said Hilary. + </p> + <p> + This remark, as was perhaps natural, did not improve the temper of the + president of the Northeastern. + </p> + <p> + “If you think I like this political business any better than you do, + you're mightily mistaken,” he replied. “And now I want to hear what plan + you've got for the convention. Suppose there's a deadlock, as you say + there will be, how are you going to handle it? Can you get a deal through + between Giles Henderson and Adam Hunt? With all my other work, I've had to + go into this myself. Hunt hasn't got a chance. Bascom and Botcher are + egging him on and making him believe he has. When Hunt gets into the + convention and begins to fall off, you've got to talk to him, Vane. And + his delegates have all got to be seen at the Pelican the night before and + understand that they're to swing to Henderson after two ballots. You've + got to keep your hand on the throttle in the convention, you understand. + And I don't need to impress upon you how grave are the consequences if + this man Crewe gets in, with public sentiment behind him and a reactionary + Lower House. You've got to keep your hand on the throttle.” + </p> + <p> + “That's part of my business, isn't it?” Hilary asked, without turning his + head. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Flint did not answer, but his eye rested again on his counsel's face. + </p> + <p> + “I'm that kind of a lawyer,” Hilary continued, apparently more to himself + than to his companion. “You pay me for that sort of thing more than for + the work I do in the courts. Isn't that so, Flint?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Flint was baffled. Two qualities which were very dear to him he + designated as sane and safe, and he had hitherto regarded his counsel as + the sanest and safest of men. This remark made him wonder seriously + whether the lawyer's mind were not giving away; and if so, to whom was he + to turn at this eleventh hour? No man in the State knew the ins and outs + of conventions as did Hilary Vane; and, in the rare times when there had + been crises, he had sat quietly in the little room off the platform as at + the keyboard of an organ, and the delegates had responded to his touch. + Hilary Vane had named the presidents of conventions, and the committees, + and by pulling out stops could get such resolutions as he wished—or + as Mr. Flint wished. But now? + </p> + <p> + Suddenly a suspicion invaded Mr. Flint's train of thought; he repeated + Hilary's words over to himself. “I'm that kind of a lawyer,” and another + individuality arose before the president of the Northeastern. Instincts + are curious things. On the day, some years before, when Austen Vane had + brought his pass into this very room and laid it down on his desk, Mr. + Flint had recognized a man with whom he would have to deal,—a + stronger man than Hilary. Since then he had seen Austen's hand in various + disturbing matters, and now it was as if he heard Austen speaking. “I'm + that kind of a lawyer.” Not Hilary Vane, but Hilary Vane's son was + responsible for Hilary Vane's condition—this recognition came to Mr. + Flint in a flash. Austen had somehow accomplished the incredible feat of + making Hilary Vane ashamed—and when such men as Hilary are ashamed, + their usefulness is over. Mr. Flint had seen the thing happen with a + certain kind of financiers, one day aggressive, combative, and the next + broken, querulous men. Let a man cease to believe in what he is doing, and + he loses force. + </p> + <p> + The president of the Northeastern used a locomotive as long as possible, + but when it ceased to be able to haul a train up-grade, he sent it to the + scrap-heap. Mr. Flint was far from being a bad man, but he worshipped + power, and his motto was the survival of the fittest. He did not yet feel + pity for Hilary—for he was angry. Only contempt,—contempt that + one who had been a power should come to this. To draw a somewhat + far-fetched parallel, a Captain Kidd or a Caesar Borgia with a conscience + would never have been heard of. Mr. Flint did not call it a conscience—he + had a harder name for it. He had to send Hilary, thus vitiated, into the + Convention to conduct the most important battle since the founding of the + Empire, and Austen Vane was responsible. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Flint had to control himself. In spite of his feelings, he saw that he + must do so. And yet he could not resist saying: “I get a good many rumours + here. They tell me that there may be another candidate in the field—a + dark horse.” + </p> + <p> + “Who?” asked Hilary. + </p> + <p> + “There was a meeting in the room of a man named Redbrook during the + Legislature to push this candidate,” said Mr. Flint, eyeing his counsel + significantly, “and now young Gaylord has been going quietly around the + State in his interest.” + </p> + <p> + Suddenly the listless figure of Hilary Vane straightened, and the old look + which had commanded the respect and obedience of men returned to his eye. + </p> + <p> + “You mean my son?” he demanded. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Mr. Flint; “they tell me that when the time comes, your son + will be a candidate on a platform opposed to our interests.” + </p> + <p> + “Then,” said Hilary, “they tell you a damned lie.” + </p> + <p> + Hilary Vane had not sworn for a quarter of a century, and yet it is to be + doubted if he ever spoke more nobly. He put his hands on the arms of his + chair and lifted himself to his feet, where he stood for a moment, a tell + figure to be remembered. Mr. Flint remembered it for many years. Hilary + Vane's long coat was open, and seemed in itself to express this strange + and new-found vigour in its flowing lines; his head was thrown back, and a + look on his face which Mr. Flint had never seen there. He drew from an + inner pocket a long envelope, and his hand trembled, though with seeming + eagerness, as he held it out to Mr. Flint. + </p> + <p> + “Here!” he said. + </p> + <p> + “What's this?” asked Mr. Flint. He evinced no desire to take it, but + Hilary pressed it on him. + </p> + <p> + “My resignation as counsel for your road.” + </p> + <p> + The president of the Northeastern, bewildered by this sudden + transformation, stared at the envelope. + </p> + <p> + “What? Now—to-day?” he said. + </p> + <p> + “No,” answered Hilary; “read it. You'll see it takes effect the day after + the State convention. I'm not much use any more you've done your best to + bring that home to me, and you'll need a new man to do—the kind of + work I've been doing for you for twenty-five years. But you can't get a + new man in a day, and I said I'd stay with you, and I keep my word. I'll + go to the convention; I'll do my best for you, as I always have. But I + don't like it, and after that I'm through. After that I become a lawyer—lawyer, + do you understand?” + </p> + <p> + “A lawyer?” Mr. Flint repeated. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, a lawyer. Ever since last June, when I came up here, I've realized + what I was. A Brush Bascom, with a better education and more brains, but a + Brush Bascom—with the brains prostituted. While things were going + along smoothly I didn't know—you never attempted to talk to me this + way before. Do you remember how you took hold of me that day, and begged + me to stay? I do, and I stayed. Why? Because I was a friend of yours. + Association with you for twenty-five years had got under my skin, and I + thought it had got under yours.” Hilary let his hand fall. “To-day you've + given me a notion of what friendship is. You've given me a chance to + estimate myself on a new basis, and I'm much obliged to you for that. I + haven't got many years left, but I'm glad to have found out what my life + has been worth before I die.” + </p> + <p> + He buttoned up his coat slowly, glaring at Mr. Flint the while with a + courage and a defiance that were superb. And he had picked up his hat + before Mr. Flint found his tongue. + </p> + <p> + “You don't mean that, Vane,” he cried. “My God, think what you've said!” + </p> + <p> + Hilary pointed at the desk with a shaking finger. + </p> + <p> + “If that were a scaffold, and a rope were around my neck, I'd say it over + again. And I thank God I've had a chance to say it to you.” He paused, + cleared his throat, and continued in a voice that all at once had become + unemotional and natural. “I've three tin boxes of the private papers you + wanted. I didn't think of 'em to-day, but I'll bring 'em up to you myself + on Thursday.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Flint reflected afterwards that what made him helpless must have been + the sudden change in Hilary's manner to the commonplace. The president of + the Northeastern stood where he was, holding the envelope in his hand, + apparently without the power to move or speak. He watched the tall form of + his chief counsel go through the doorway, and something told him that that + exit was coincident with the end of an era. + </p> + <p> + The end of an era of fraud, of self-deception, of conditions that violated + every sacred principle of free government which men had shed blood to + obtain. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0024" id="link2HCH0024"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXIV. AN ADVENTURE OF VICTORIA'S + </h2> + <p> + Mrs. Pomfret was a proud woman, for she had at last obtained the consent + of the lion to attend a lunch party. She would have liked a dinner much + better, but beggars are not choosers, and she seized eagerly on the lunch. + The two days before the convention Mr. Crewe was to spend at Leith; having + continual conferences, of course, receiving delegations, and discussing + with prominent citizens certain offices which would be in his gift when he + became governor. Also, there was Mr. Watling's nominating speech to be + gone over carefully, and Mr. Crewe's own speech of acceptance to be + composed. He had it in his mind, and he had decided that it should have + two qualities: it should be brief and forceful. + </p> + <p> + Gratitude, however, is one of the noblest qualities of man, and a + statesman should not fail to reward his faithful workers and adherents. As + one of the chiefest of these, Mrs. Pomfret was entitled to high + consideration. Hence the candidate had consented to have a lunch given in + his honour, naming the day and the hour; and Mrs. Pomfret, believing that + a prospective governor should possess some of the perquisites of royalty, + in a rash moment submitted for his approval a list of guests. This + included two distinguished foreigners who were staying at the Leith Inn, + an Englishman and an Austrian, and an elderly lady of very considerable + social importance who was on a visit to Mrs. Pomfret. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Crewe had graciously sanctioned the list, but took the liberty of + suggesting as an addition to it the name of Miss Victoria Flint, + explaining over the telephone to Mrs. Pomfret that he had scarcely seen + Victoria all summer, and that he wanted particularly to see her. Mrs. + Pomfret declared that she had only left out Victoria because her presence + might be awkward for both of them, but Mr. Crewe waved this aside as a + trivial and feminine objection; so Victoria was invited, and another young + man to balance the table. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Pomfret, as may have been surmised, was a woman of taste, and her + villa at Leith, though small, had added considerably to her reputation for + this quality. Patterson Pomfret had been a gentleman with red cheeks and + an income, who incidentally had been satisfied with both. He had never + tried to add to the income, which was large enough to pay the dues of the + clubs the lists of which he thought worthy to include his name; large + enough to pay hotel bills in London and Paris and at the baths, and to + free the servants at country houses; large enough to clothe his wife and + himself, and to teach Alice the three essentials of music, French, and + deportment. If that man is notable who has mastered one thing well, + Patterson Pomfret was a notable man: he had mastered the possibilities of + his income, and never in any year had he gone beyond it by so much as a + sole d vin blanc or a pair of red silk stockings. When he died, he left a + worthy financial successor in his wife. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Pomfret, knowing the income, after an exhaustive search decided upon + Leith as the place to build her villa. It must be credited to her + foresight that, when she built, she saw the future possibilities of the + place. The proper people had started it. And it must be credited to her + genius that she added to these possibilities of Leith by bringing to it + such families as she thought worthy to live in the neighbourhood—families + which incidentally increased the value of the land. Her villa had a + decided French look, and was so amazingly trim and neat and generally + shipshape as to be fit—for only the daintiest and most + discriminating feminine occupation. The house was small, and its + metamorphosis from a plain wooden farm-house had been an achievement that + excited general admiration. Porches had been added, and a coat of spotless + white relieved by an orange striping so original that many envied, but + none dared to copy it. The striping went around the white chimneys, along + the cornice, under the windows and on the railings of the porch: there + were window boxes gay with geraniums and abundant awnings striped white + and red, to match the flowers: a high, formal hemlock hedge hid the house + from the road, through which entered a blue-stone drive that cut the + close-cropped lawn and made a circle to the doorway. Under the great + maples on the lawn were a tea-table, rugs, and wicker chairs, and the + house itself was furnished by a variety of things of a design not to be + bought in the United States of America: desks, photograph frames, + writing-sets, clocks, paperknives, flower baskets, magazine racks, + cigarette boxes, and dozens of other articles for the duplicates of which + one might have searched Fifth Avenue in vain. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Crewe was a little late. Important matters, he said, had detained him + at the last moment, and he particularly enjoined Mrs. Pomfret's butler to + listen carefully for the telephone, and twice during lunch it was + announced that Mr. Crewe was wanted. At first he was preoccupied, and + answered absently across the table the questions of the Englishman and the + Austrian about American politics, and talked to the lady of social + prominence on his right not at all; nor to Mrs. Pomfret'—who excused + him. Being a lady of discerning qualities, however, the hostess remarked + that Mr. Crewe's eyes wandered more than once to the far end of the oval + table, where Victoria sat, and even Mrs. Pomfret could not deny the + attraction. Victoria wore a filmy gown of mauve that infinitely became + her, and a shadowy hat which, in the semi-darkness of the dining room, was + a wondrous setting for her shapely head. Twice she caught Mr. Crewe's look + upon her and returned it amusedly from under her lashes,—and once he + could have sworn that she winked perceptibly. What fires she kindled in + his deep nature it is impossible to say. + </p> + <p> + She had kindled other fires at her side. The tall young Englishman had + lost interest in American politics, had turned his back upon poor Alice + Pomfret, and had forgotten the world in general. Not so the Austrian, who + was on the other side of Alice, and who could not see Victoria. Mr. Crewe, + by his manner and appearance, had impressed him as a person of importance, + and he wanted to know more. Besides, he wished to improve his English, and + Alice had been told to speak French to him. By a lucky chance, after + several blind attempts, he awakened the interest of the personality. + </p> + <p> + “I hear you are what they call reform in America?” + </p> + <p> + This was not the question that opened the gates. + </p> + <p> + “I don't care much for the word,” answered Mr. Crewe, shortly; “I prefer + the word progressive.” + </p> + <p> + Discourse on the word “progressive” by the Austrian almost a monologue. + But he was far from being discouraged. + </p> + <p> + “And Mrs. Pomfret tells me they play many detestable tricks on you—yes?” + </p> + <p> + “Tricks!” exclaimed Mr. Crewe, the memory of many recent ones being fresh + in his mind; “I should say so. Do you know what a caucus is?” + </p> + <p> + “Caucus—caucus? It brings something to my head. Ah, I have seen a + picture of it, in some English book. A very funny picture—it is in + fun, yes?” + </p> + <p> + “A picture?” said Mr. Crewe. “Impossible!” + </p> + <p> + “But no,” said the Austrian, earnestly, with one finger to his temples. + “It is a funny picture, I know. I cannot recall. But the word caucus I + remember. That is a droll word.” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps, Baron,” said Victoria, who had been resisting an almost + uncontrollable desire to laugh, “you have been reading 'Alice in + Wonderland.'” + </p> + <p> + The Englishman, Beatrice Chillingham, and some others (among whom were not + Mr. Crewe and Mrs. Pomfret) gave way to an extremely pardonable mirth, in + which the good-natured baron joined. + </p> + <p> + “Ach!” he cried. “It is so, I have seen it in 'Alice in Wonderland.'” Here + the puzzled expression returned to his face, “But they are birds, are they + not?” + </p> + <p> + Men whose minds are on serious things are impatient of levity, and Mr. + Crewe looked at the baron: + </p> + <p> + “No,” he said, “they are not birds.” + </p> + <p> + This reply was the signal for more laughter. + </p> + <p> + “A thousand pardons,” exclaimed the baron. “It is I who am so ignorant. + You will excuse me—yes?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Crewe was mollified. The baron was a foreigner, he had been the object + of laughter, and Mr. Crewe's chivalrous spirit resented it. + </p> + <p> + “What we call a caucus in the towns of this State,” he said, “is a meeting + of citizens of one party to determine who their candidates shall be. A + caucus is a primary. There is a very loose primary law in this State, + purposely kept loose by the politicians of the Northeastern Railroads, in + order that they may play such tricks on decent men as they have been + playing on me.” + </p> + <p> + At this mention of the Northeastern Railroads the lady on Mr. Crewe's + right, and some other guests, gave startled glances at Victoria. They + observed with surprise that she seemed quite unmoved. + </p> + <p> + “I'll tell you one or two of the things those railroad lobbyists have + done,” said Mr. Crewe, his indignation rising with the subject, and still + addressing the baron. “They are afraid to let the people into the + caucuses, because they know I'll get the delegates. Nearly everywhere I + speak to the people, I get the delegates. The railroad politicians send + word to the town rings to hold snap caucuses' when they hear I'm coming + into a town to speak, and the local politicians give out notices only a + day before, and only to the voters they want in the caucus. In Hull the + other day, out of a population of two thousand, twenty men elected four + delegates for the railroad candidate.” + </p> + <p> + “It is corruption!” cried the baron, who had no idea who Victoria was, and + a very slim notion of what Mr. Crewe was talking about. + </p> + <p> + “Corruption!” said Mr. Crewe. “What can you expect when a railroad owns a + State? The other day in Britain, where they elect fourteen delegates, the + editor of a weekly newspaper printed false ballots with two of my men at + the top and one at the bottom, and eleven railroad men in the middle. + Fortunately some person with sense discovered the fraud before it was too + late.” + </p> + <p> + “You don't tell me!” said the baron. + </p> + <p> + “And every State and federal office-holder has been distributing passes + for the last three weeks.” + </p> + <p> + “Pass?” repeated the baron. “You mean they fight with the fist—so? + To distribute a pass—so,” and the baron struck out at an imaginary + enemy. “It is the American language. I have read it in the prize-fight. I + am told to read the prize-fight and the base-ball game.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Crewe thought it obviously useless to continue this conversation. + </p> + <p> + “The railroad,” said the baron, “he is the modern Machiavelli.” + </p> + <p> + “I say,” Mr. Rangely, the Englishman, remarked to Victoria, “this is a bit + rough on you, you know.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I'm used to it,” she laughed. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Crewe,” said Mrs. Pomfret, to the table at large, “deserves + tremendous credit for the fight he has made, almost single-handed. Our + greatest need in this country is what you have in England, Mr. Rangely,—gentlemen + in politics. Our country gentlemen, like Mr. Crewe, are now going to + assume their proper duties and responsibilities.” She laid her napkin on + the table and glanced at Alice as she continued: “Humphrey, I shall have + to appoint you, as usual, the man of the house. Will you take the + gentlemen into the library?” + </p> + <p> + Another privilege of celebrity is to throw away one's cigar, and walk out + of the smoking room if one is bored. Mr. Crewe was, in a sense, the host. + He indicated with a wave of his hand the cigars and cigarettes which Mrs. + Pomfret had provided, and stood in a thoughtful manner before the empty + fireplace, with his hands in his pockets, replying in brief sentences to + the questions of Mr. Chillingham and the others. To tell the truth, Mr. + Crewe was bringing to bear all of his extraordinary concentration of mind + upon a problem with which he had been occupied for some years past. He was + not a man, as we know, to take the important steps of life in a hurry, + although; like the truly great, he was capable of making up his mind in a + very brief period when it was necessary to strike. He had now, after + weighing the question with the consideration which its gravity demanded, + finally decided upon definite action. Whereupon he walked out of the + library, leaving the other guests to comment as they would; or not comment + at all, for all he cared. Like all masterful men, he went direct to the + thing he wanted. + </p> + <p> + The ladies were having coffee under the maples, by the tea-table. At some + little distance from the group Beatrice Chillingham was walking with + Victoria, and it was evident that Victoria found Miss Chillingham's + remarks amusing. These were the only two in the party who did not observe + Mr. Crewe's approach. Mrs. Pomfret, when she saw the direction which he + was taking, lost the thread of her conversation, and the lady who was + visiting her wore a significant expression. + </p> + <p> + “Victoria,” said Mr. Crewe, “let's go around to the other side of the + house and look at the view.” + </p> + <p> + Victoria started and turned to him from Miss Chillingham, with the fun + still sparkling in her eyes. It was, perhaps, as well for Mr. Crewe that + he had not overheard their conversation; but this might have applied to + any man. + </p> + <p> + “Are you sure you can spare the time?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Crewe looked at his watch—probably from habit. + </p> + <p> + “I made it a point to leave the smoking room early,” he replied. + </p> + <p> + “We're flattered—aren't we, Beatrice?” + </p> + <p> + Miss Chillingham had a turned-up nose, and a face which was apt to be + slightly freckled at this time of year; for she contemned vanity and + veils. For fear of doing her an injustice, it must be added that she was + not at all bad-looking; quite the contrary All that can be noted in this + brief space is that Beatrice Chillingham was herself. Some people declared + that she was possessed of the seven devils of her sex which Mr. Stockton + wrote about. + </p> + <p> + “I'm flattered,” she said, and walked off towards the tea-table with a + glance in which Victoria read many meanings. Mr. Crewe paid no attention + either to words, look, or departure. + </p> + <p> + “I want to talk to you,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “You've made that very plain, at least,” answered Victoria. “Why did you + pretend it was the view?” + </p> + <p> + “Some conventionalities have to be observed, I suppose,” he said. “Let's + go around there. It is a good view.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't you think this is a little—marked?” asked Victoria, surveying + him with her hands behind her back. + </p> + <p> + “I can't help it if it is,” said Mr. Crewe. “Every hour is valuable to me, + and I've got to take my chances when I get 'em. For some reason, you + haven't been down at Leith much this summer. Why didn't you telephone me, + as I asked you.” + </p> + <p> + “Because I've suddenly grown dignified, I suppose,” she said. “And then, + of course, I hesitated to intrude upon such a person of importance as you + have become, Humphrey.” + </p> + <p> + “I've always got time to see you,” he replied. “I always shall have. But I + appreciate your delicacy. That sort of thing counts with a man more than + most women know.” + </p> + <p> + “Then I am repaid,” said Victoria, “for exercising self-control.” + </p> + <p> + “I find it always pays,” declared Mr. Crewe, and he glanced at her with + distinct approval. They were skirting the house, and presently came out + upon a tiny terrace where young Ridley had made a miniature Italian garden + when the Electric dividends had increased, and from which there was a + vista of the shallows of the Blue. Here was a stone garden-seat which Mrs. + Pomfret had brought from Italy, and over which she had quarrelled with the + customs authorities. Mr. Crewe, with a wave of his hand, signified his + pleasure that they should sit, and cleared his throat. + </p> + <p> + “It's just as well, perhaps,” he began, “that we haven't had the chance to + see each other earlier. When a man starts out upon an undertaking of the + gravest importance, wherein he stakes his reputation, an undertaking for + which he is ridiculed and reviled, he likes to have his judgment + justified. He likes to be vindicated, especially in the eyes of—people + whom he cares about. Personally, I never had any doubt that I should be + the next governor, because I knew in the beginning that I had estimated + public sentiment correctly. The man who succeeds in this world is the man + who has sagacity enough to gauge public sentiment ahead of time, and the + courage to act on his beliefs.” Victoria looked at him steadily. He was + very calm, and he had one knee crossed over the other. + </p> + <p> + “And the sagacity,” she added, “to choose his lieutenants in the fight.” + </p> + <p> + “Exactly,” said Mr. Crewe. “I have always declared, Victoria, that you had + a natural aptitude for affairs.” + </p> + <p> + “I have heard my father say,” she continued, still maintaining her steady + glance, “that Hamilton Tooting is one of the shrewdest politicians he has + ever known. Isn't Mr. Tooting one of your right-hand men?” + </p> + <p> + “He could hardly be called that,” Mr. Crewe replied. “In fact, I haven't + any what you might call 'right-hand men.' The large problems I have had to + decide for myself. As for Tooting, he's well enough in his way; he + understands the tricks of the politicians—he's played 'em, I guess. + He's uneducated; he's merely a worker. You see,” he went on, “one great + reason why I've been so successful is because I've been practical. I've + taken materials as I've found them.” + </p> + <p> + “I see,” answered Victoria, turning her head and gazing over the terrace + at the sparkling reaches of the river. She remembered the close of that + wintry afternoon in Mr. Crewe's house at the capital, and she was quite + willing to do him exact justice, and to believe that he had forgotten it—which, + indeed, was the case. + </p> + <p> + “I want to say,” he continued, “that although I have known and—ahem—admired + you for many years, Victoria, what has struck me most forcibly in your + favour has been your open-mindedness—especially on the great + political questions this summer. I have no idea how much you know about + them, but one would naturally have expected you, on account of your + father, to be prejudiced. Sometime, when I have more leisure, I shall go + into them, fully with you. And in the meantime I'll have my secretary send + you the complete list of my speeches up to date, and I know you will read + them carefully.” + </p> + <p> + “You are very kind, Humphrey,” she said. + </p> + <p> + Absorbed in the presentation of his subject (which chanced to be himself), + Mr. Crewe did not observe that her lips were parted, and that there were + little creases around her eyes. + </p> + <p> + “And sometime,” said Mr. Crewe, “when all this has blown over a little, I + shall have a talk with your father. He undoubtedly understands that there + is scarcely any question of my election. He probably realizes, too, that + he has been in the—wrong, and that railroad domination must cease—he + has already made several concessions, as you know. I wish you would tell + him from me that when I am governor, I shall make it a point to discuss + the whole matter with him, and that he will find in me no foe of + corporations. Justice is what I stand for. Temperamentally, I am too + conservative, I am too much of a business man, to tamper with vested + interests.” + </p> + <p> + “I will tell him, Humphrey,” said Victoria. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Crewe coughed, and looked at his watch once, more. “And now, having + made that clear,” he said, “and having only a quarter of an hour before I + have to leave to keep an appointment, I am going to take up another + subject. And I ask you to believe it is not done lightly, or without due + consideration, but as the result of some years of thought.” + </p> + <p> + Victoria turned to him seriously—and yet the creases were still + around her eyes. + </p> + <p> + “I can well believe it, Humphrey,” she answered. “But—have you + time?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” he said, “I have learned the value of minutes.” + </p> + <p> + “But not of hours, perhaps,” she replied. + </p> + <p> + “That,” said Mr. Crewe, indulgently, “is a woman's point of view. A man + cannot dally through life, and your kind of woman has no use for a man who + dallies. First, I will give you my idea of a woman.” + </p> + <p> + “I am all attention,” said Victoria. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said Mr. Crewe, putting the tops of his fingers together, “she + should excel as a housewife. I haven't any use for your so-called + intellectual woman. Of course, what I mean by a housewife is something a + little less bourgeoise; she should be able to conduct an establishment + with the neatness and despatch and economy of a well-run hotel. She should + be able to seat a table instantly and accurately, giving to the prominent + guests the prestige they deserve. Nor have I any sympathy with the notion + that makes a married woman a law unto herself. She enters voluntarily into + an agreement whereby she puts herself under the control of her husband: + his interests, his career, his—” + </p> + <p> + “Comfort?” suggested Victoria. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, his comfort—all that comes first. And his establishment is + conducted primarily, and his guests selected, in the interests of his + fortunes. Of course, that goes without saying of a man in high place in + public life. But he must choose for his wife a woman who is equal to all + these things,—to my mind her highest achievement,—who makes + the most of the position he gives her, presides at his table and + entertainments, and reaches such people as, for any reason, he is unable + to reach. I have taken the pains to point out these things in a general + way, for obvious reasons. My greatest desire is to be fair.” + </p> + <p> + “What,” asked Victoria, with her eyes on the river, “what are the wages?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Crewe laughed. Incidentally, he thought her profile very fine. + </p> + <p> + “I do not believe in flattery,” he said, “but I think I should add to the + qualifications personality and a sense of humour. I am quite sure I could + never live with a woman—who didn't have a sense of humour.” + </p> + <p> + “I should think it would be a little difficult,” said Victoria, “to get a + woman with the qualifications you enumerate and a sense of humour thrown + in.” + </p> + <p> + “Infinitely difficult,” declared Mr. Crewe, with more ardour than he had + yet shown. “I have waited a good many years, Victoria.” + </p> + <p> + “And yet,” she said, “you have been happy. You have a perpetual source of + enjoyment denied to some people.” + </p> + <p> + “What is that?” he asked. It is natural for a man to like to hear the + points of his character discussed by a discerning woman. + </p> + <p> + “Yourself,” said Victoria, suddenly looking him full in the face. “You are + complete, Humphrey, as it is. You are happily married already. Besides,” + she added, laughing a little, “the qualities you have mentioned—with + the exception of the sense of humour—are not those of a wife, but of + a business partner of the opposite sex. What you really want is a business + partner with something like a fifth interest, and whose name shall not + appear in the agreement.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Crewe laughed again. Nevertheless, he was a little puzzled over this + remark. + </p> + <p> + “I am not sentimental,” he began. + </p> + <p> + “You certainly are not,” she said. + </p> + <p> + “You have a way,” he replied, with a shade of reproof in his voice, “you + have a way at times of treating serious things with a little less gravity + than they deserve. I am still a young man, but I have seen a good deal of + life, and I know myself pretty well. It is necessary to treat matrimony + from a practical as well as a sentimental point of view. There wouldn't be + half the unhappiness and divorces if people took time to do this, instead + of rushing off and getting married immediately. And of course it is + especially important for a man in my position to study every aspect of the + problem before he takes a step.” + </p> + <p> + By this time a deep and absorbing interest in a new aspect of Mr. Crewe's + character had taken possession of Victoria. + </p> + <p> + “And you believe that, by taking thought, you can get the kind of a wife + you want?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “Certainly,” he replied; “does that strike you as strange?” + </p> + <p> + “A little,” said Victoria. “Suppose,” she added gently, “suppose that the + kind of wife you'd want wouldn't want you?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Crewe laughed again. + </p> + <p> + “That is a contingency which a strong man does not take into + consideration,” he answered. “Strong men get what they want. But upon my + word, Victoria, you have a delicious way of putting things. In your + presence I quite forget the problems and perplexities which beset me. + That,” he said, with delicate meaning, “that is another quality I should + desire in a woman.” + </p> + <p> + “It is one, fortunately, that isn't marketable,” she said, “and it's the + only quality you've mentioned that's worth anything.” + </p> + <p> + “A woman's valuation,” said Mr. Crewe. + </p> + <p> + “If it made you forget your own affairs, it would be priceless.” + </p> + <p> + “Look here, Victoria,” cried Mr. Crewe, uncrossing his knees, “joking's + all very well, but I haven't time for it to-day. And I'm in a serious + mood. I've told you what I want, and now that I've got to go in a few + minutes, I'll come to the point. I don't suppose a man could pay a woman a + higher compliment than to say that his proposal was the result of some + years of thought and study.” + </p> + <p> + Here Victoria laughed outright, but grew serious again at once. + </p> + <p> + “Unless he proposed to her the day he met her. That would be a real + compliment.” + </p> + <p> + “The man,” said Mr. Crewe, impatiently, “would be a fool.” + </p> + <p> + “Or else a person of extreme discernment,” said Victoria. “And love is + lenient with fools. By the way, Humphrey, it has just occurred to me that + there's one quality which some people think necessary in a wife, which you + didn't mention.” + </p> + <p> + “What's that?” + </p> + <p> + “Love,” said Victoria. + </p> + <p> + “Love, of course,” he agreed; “I took that for granted.” + </p> + <p> + “I supposed you did,” said Victoria, meekly. + </p> + <p> + “Well, now, to come to the point—” he began again. + </p> + <p> + But she interrupted him by glancing at the watch on her gown, and rising. + </p> + <p> + “What's the matter?” he asked, with some annoyance. + </p> + <p> + “The fifteen minutes are up,” she announced. “I cannot take the + responsibility of detaining you.” + </p> + <p> + “We will put in tantalizing as another attractive quality,” he laughed. “I + absolve you of all responsibility. Sit down.” + </p> + <p> + “I believe you mentioned obedience,” she answered, and sat down again at + the end of the bench, resting her chin on her gloved hand, and looking at + him. By this time her glances seemed to have gained a visibly disturbing + effect. He moved a little nearer to her, took off his hat (which he had + hitherto neglected to do), and thrust his hands abruptly into his pockets—as + much as to say that he would not be responsible for their movements if + they were less free. + </p> + <p> + “Hang it all, Victoria,” he exclaimed, “I'm a practical man, and I try to + look at this, which is one of the serious things in life, in a practical + way.” + </p> + <p> + “One of the serious things,” she repeated, as though to herself. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” he said, “certainly.” + </p> + <p> + “I merely asked to be sure of the weight you gave it. Go on.” + </p> + <p> + “In a practical way, as I was saying. Long ago I suspected that you had + most of those qualities.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm overwhelmed, Humphrey,” she cried, with her eyes dancing. “But—do + you think I could cultivate the rest?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, well,” said Mr. Crewe, “I put it that way because no woman is + perfect, and I dislike superlatives.” + </p> + <p> + “I should think superlatives would be very hard to live with,” she + reflected. “But—dreadful thought!—suppose I should lack an + essential?” + </p> + <p> + “What—for instance?” + </p> + <p> + “Love—for instance. But then you did not put it first. It was I who + mentioned it, and you who took it for granted.” + </p> + <p> + “Affection seems to be a more sensible term for it,” he said. “Affection + is the lasting and sensible thing. You mentioned a partnership, a word + that singularly fits into my notion of marriage. I want to be honest with + you, and understate my feelings on that subject.” + </p> + <p> + Victoria, who had been regarding him with a curious look that puzzled him, + laughed again. + </p> + <p> + “I have been hoping you haven't exaggerated them,” she replied. + </p> + <p> + “They're stronger than you think,” he declared. “I never felt this way in + my life before. What I meant to say was, that I never understood running + away with a woman.” + </p> + <p> + “That does not surprise me,” said Victoria. + </p> + <p> + “I shouldn't know where to run to,” he proclaimed. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps the woman would, if you got a clever one. At any rate, it + wouldn't matter. One place is as good as another. Some go to Niagara, and + some to Coney Island, and others to Venice. Personally, I should have no + particular preference.” + </p> + <p> + “No preference!” he exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + “I could be happy in Central Park,” she declared. + </p> + <p> + “Fortunately,” said Mr. Crewe, “you will never be called upon to make the + trial.” + </p> + <p> + Victoria was silent. Her thoughts, for the moment, had flown elsewhere, + but Mr. Crewe did not appear to notice this. He fell back into the rounded + hollow of the bench, and it occurred to him that he had never quite + realized that profile. And what an ornament she would be to his table. + </p> + <p> + “I think, Humphrey,” she said, “that we should be going back.” + </p> + <p> + “One moment, and I'll have finished,” he cried. “I've no doubt you are + prepared for what I am going to say. I have purposely led up to it, in + order that there might be no misunderstanding. In short, I have never seen + another woman with personal characteristics so well suited for my life, + and I want you to marry me, Victoria. I can offer you the position of the + wife of a man with a public career—for which you are so well + fitted.” + </p> + <p> + Victoria shook her head slowly, and smiled at him. + </p> + <p> + “I couldn't fill the position,” she said. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps,” he replied, smiling back at her, “perhaps I am the best judge + of that.” + </p> + <p> + “And you thought,” she asked slowly, “that I was that kind of a woman?” + </p> + <p> + “I know it to be a practical certainty,” said Mr. Crewe. + </p> + <p> + “Practical certainties,” said Victoria, “are not always truths. If I + should sign a contract, which I suppose, as a business man, you would + want, to live up to the letter of your specifications,—even then I + could not do it. I should make life a torture for you, Humphrey. You see, + I am honest with you, too—much as your offer dazzles me.” And she + shook her head again. + </p> + <p> + “That,” exclaimed Mr. Crewe, impatiently, “is sheer nonsense. I want you, + and I mean to have you.” + </p> + <p> + There came a look into her eyes which Mr. Crewe did not see, because her + face was turned from him. + </p> + <p> + “I could be happy,” she said, “for days and weeks and years in a but on + the side of Sawanec. I could be happy in a farm-house where I had to do + all the work. I am not the model housewife which your imagination depicts, + Humphrey. I could live in two rooms and eat at an Italian restaurant—with + the right man. And I am afraid the wrong one would wake up one day and + discover that I had gone. I am sorry to disillusionize you, but I don't + care a fig for balls and garden-parties and salons. It would be much more + fun to run away from them to the queer places of the earth—with the + right man. And I should have to possess one essential to put up with—greatness + and what you call a public career.” + </p> + <p> + “And what is that essential?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “Love,” said Victoria. He heard the word but faintly, for her face was + still turned away from him. “You've offered me the things that are + attainable by taking thought, by perseverance, by pertinacity, by the + outwitting of your fellow-men, by the stacking of coins. And I want—the + unattainable, the divine gift which is bestowed, which cannot be acquired. + If it could be acquired, Humphrey,” she added, looking at him, “I am sure + you would acquire it—if you thought it worth while.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't understand you,” he said,—and looked it. + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Victoria, “I was afraid you wouldn't. And moreover, you never + would. There is no use in my trying to make myself any clearer, and you'll + have to keep your appointment. I hesitate to contradict you, but I am not + the kind of woman you want. That is one reason I cannot marry you. And the + other is, that I do not love you.” + </p> + <p> + “You can't be in love with any one else?” he cried. + </p> + <p> + “That does seem rather preposterous, I'll admit,” she answered. “But if I + were, it wouldn't make any difference.” + </p> + <p> + “You won't marry me?” he said, getting to his feet. There was incredulity + in his voice, and a certain amount of bewilderment. The thing was indeed + incredible! + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Victoria, “I won't.” + </p> + <p> + And he had only to look into her face to see that it was so. Hitherto nil + desperandum had been a good working motto, but something told him it was + useless in this case. He thrust on his hat and pulled out his watch. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” he said, “that settles it. I must—say I can't see your point + of view—but that settles it. I must say, too, that your refusal is + something of a shock after what I had been led to expect after the past + few years.” + </p> + <p> + “The person you are in love with led you to expect it, Humphrey, and that + person is—yourself. You are in love temporarily with your own ideal + of me.” + </p> + <p> + “And your refusal comes at an unfortunate tune for me,” he continued, not + heeding her words, “when I have an affair on my hands of such magnitude, + which requires concentrated thought. But I'm not a man to cry, and I'll + make the best of it.” + </p> + <p> + “If I thought it were more than a temporary disappointment, I should be + sorry for you,” said Victoria. “I remember that you felt something like + this when Mr. Rutter wouldn't sell you his land. The lady you really + want,” she added, pointing with her parasol at the house, “is in there, + waiting for you.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Crewe did not reply to this prophecy, but followed Victoria around the + house to the group on the lawn, where he bade his hostess a somewhat + preoccupied farewell, and bowed distantly to the guests. + </p> + <p> + “He has so much on his mind,” said Mrs. Pomfret. “And oh, I quite forgot—Humphrey!” + she cried, calling after him, “Humphrey!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” he said, turning before he reached his automobile. “What is it?” + </p> + <p> + “Alice and I are going to the convention, you know, and I meant to tell + you that there would be ten in the party—but I didn't have a + chance.” Here Mrs. Pomfret glanced at Victoria, who had been joined at + once by the tall Englishman. “Can you get tickets for ten?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Crewe made a memorandum. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” he said, “I'll get the tickets—but I don't see what you want + to go for.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0025" id="link2HCH0025"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXV. MORE ADVENTURER + </h2> + <p> + Victoria had not, of course, confided in Beatrice Chillingham what had + occurred in the garden, although that lady had exhibited the liveliest + interest, and had had her suspicions. After Mr. Crewe's departure Mr. + Rangely, the tall young Englishman, had renewed his attentions + assiduously, although during the interval in the garden he had found Miss + Chillingham a person of discernment. + </p> + <p> + “She's not going to marry that chap, is she, Miss Chillingham?” he had + asked. + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Beatrice; “you have my word for it, she isn't.” + </p> + <p> + As she was leaving, Mrs. Pomfret had taken Victoria's hand and drawn her + aside, and looked into her face with a meaning smile. + </p> + <p> + “My dear!” she exclaimed, “he particularly asked that you be invited.” + </p> + <p> + “Who?” said Victoria. + </p> + <p> + “Humphrey. He stipulated that you should be here.” + </p> + <p> + “Then I'm very much obliged to him,” said Victoria, “for I've enjoyed + myself immensely. I like your Englishman so much.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you?” said Mrs. Pomfret, searching Victoria's face, while her own + brightened. “He's heir to one of the really good titles, and he has an + income of his own. I couldn't put him up here, in this tiny box, because I + have Mrs. Fronde. We are going to take him to the convention—and if + you'd care to go, Victoria—?” + </p> + <p> + Victoria laughed. + </p> + <p> + “It isn't as serious as that,” she said. “And I'm afraid I can't go to the + convention—I have some things to do in the neighbourhood.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Pomfret looked wise. + </p> + <p> + “He's a most attractive man, with the best prospects. It would be a + splendid match for you, Victoria.” + </p> + <p> + “Mrs. Pomfret,” replied Victoria, wavering between amusement and a desire + to be serious, “I haven't the slightest intention of making what you call + a 'match.'” And there was in her words a ring of truth not to be mistaken. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Pomfret kissed her. + </p> + <p> + “One never can tell what may happen,” she said. “Think of him, Victoria. + And your dear mother—perhaps you will know some day what the + responsibility is of seeing a daughter well placed in life.” + </p> + <p> + Victoria coloured, and withdrew her hand. + </p> + <p> + “I fear that time is a long way off, Mrs. Pomfret,” she replied. + </p> + <p> + “I think so much of Victoria,” Mrs. Pomfret declared a moment later to her + guest; “she's like my own daughter. But at times she's so hopelessly + unconventional. Why, I believe Rangely's actually going home with her.” + </p> + <p> + “He asked her to drop him at the Inn,” said Mrs. Fronde. “He's head over + heels in love already.” + </p> + <p> + “It would be such a relief to dear Rose,” sighed Mrs. Pomfret. + </p> + <p> + “I like the girl,” replied Mrs. Fronde, dryly. “She has individuality, and + knows her own mind. Whoever she marries will have something to him.” + </p> + <p> + “I devoutly hope so!” said Mrs. Pomfret. + </p> + <p> + It was quite true that Mr. Arthur Rangely had asked Victoria to drop him + at the Inn. But when they reached it he made another request. + </p> + <p> + “Do you mind if I go a bit farther, Miss Flint?” he suggested. “I'd rather + like the walk back.” + </p> + <p> + Victoria laughed. + </p> + <p> + “Do come,” she said. + </p> + <p> + He admired the country, but he looked at Victoria, and asked a hundred + exceedingly frank questions about Leith, about Mrs. Pomfret, whom he had + met at his uncle's seat in Devonshire, and about Mr. Crewe and the + railroads in politics. Many of these Victoria parried, and she came + rapidly to the conclusion that Mr. Arthur Rangely was a more astute person + than—to a casual observer he would seem. + </p> + <p> + He showed no inclination to fix the limits of his walk, and made no + protest as she drove under the stone archway at the entrance of Fairview. + Victoria was amused and interested, and she decided that she liked Mr. + Rangely. + </p> + <p> + “Will you come up for tea?” she asked. “I'll send you home.” + </p> + <p> + He accepted with alacrity. They had reached the first turn when their + attention was caught by the sight of a buggy ahead of them, and facing + towards them. The horse, with the reins hanging loosely over the shafts, + had strayed to the side of the driveway and was contentedly eating the + shrubbery that lined it. Inside the vehicle, hunched up in the corner of + the seat, was a man who presented an appearance of helplessness which + struck them both with a sobering effect. + </p> + <p> + “Is the fellow drunk?” said Mr. Rangely. + </p> + <p> + Victoria's answer was a little cry which startled him, and drew his look + to her. She had touched her horse with the whip, and her eyes had widened + in real alarm. + </p> + <p> + “It's Hilary Vane!” she exclaimed. “I—I wonder what can have + happened!” + </p> + <p> + She handed the reins to Mr. Rangely, and sprang out and flew to Hilary's + side. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Vane!” she cried. “What's the matter? Are you ill?” + </p> + <p> + She had never seen him look so. To her he had always been as one on whom + pity would be wasted, as one who long ago had established his credit with + the universe to his own satisfaction. But now, suddenly, intense pity + welled up within her, and even in that moment she wondered if it could be + because he was Austen's father. His hands were at his sides, his head was + fallen forward a little, and his face was white. But his eyes frightened + her most; instead of the old, semi-defiant expression which she remembered + from childhood, they had in them a dumb suffering that went to her heart. + He looked at her, tried to straighten up, and fell back again. + </p> + <p> + “N—nothing's the matter,” he said, “nothing. A little spell. I'll be + all right in a moment.” + </p> + <p> + Victoria did not lose an instant, but climbed into the buggy at his side + and gathered up the reins, and drew the fallen lap-robe over his knees. + </p> + <p> + “I'm going to take you back to Fairview,” she said. “And we'll telephone + for a doctor.” + </p> + <p> + But she had underrated the amount of will left in him. He did not move, + though indeed if he had seized the reins from her hands, he could have + given her no greater effect of surprise. Life came back into the eyes at + the summons, and dominance into the voice, although he breathed heavily. + </p> + <p> + “No, you're not,” he said; “no, you're not. I'm going to Ripton—do + you understand? I'll be all right in a minute, and I'll take the lines.” + </p> + <p> + Victoria, when she got over her astonishment at this, reflected quickly. + She glanced at him, and the light of his expression was already fading. + There was some reason why he did not wish to go back to Fairview, and + common sense told her that agitation was not good for him; besides, they + would have to telephone to Ripton for a physician, and it was quicker to + drive there. Quicker to drive in her own runabout, did she dare to try to + move him into it. She made up her mind. + </p> + <p> + “Please follow on behind with that trap,” she called out to Rangely; “I'm + going to Ripton.” + </p> + <p> + He nodded understandingly, admiringly, and Victoria started Hilary's horse + out of the bushes towards the entrance way. From time to time she let her + eyes rest upon him anxiously. + </p> + <p> + “Are you comfortable?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” he said, “yes. I'm all right. I'll be able to drive in a minute.” + </p> + <p> + But the minutes passed, and he made no attempt to take the reins. Victoria + had drawn the whalebone whip from its socket, and was urging on the horse + as fast as humanity would permit; and the while she was aware that + Hilary's look was fixed upon her—in fact, never left her. Once or + twice, in spite of her anxiety to get him home, Victoria blushed faintly, + as she wondered what he was thinking about. + </p> + <p> + And all the while she asked herself what it was that had brought him to + this condition. Victoria knew sufficient of life and had visited hospitals + enough to understand that mental causes were generally responsible for + such breakdowns—Hilary had had a shock. She remembered how in her + childhood he had been the object of her particular animosity; how she used + to put out her tongue at him, and imitate his manner, and how he had never + made the slightest attempt to conciliate her; most people of this sort are + sensitive to the instincts of children; but Hilary had not been. She + remembered—how long ago it seemed now!—the day she had given + him, in deviltry, the clipping about Austen shooting Mr. Blodgett. + </p> + <p> + The Hilary Vane who sat beside her to-day was not the same man. It was + unaccountable, but he was not. Nor could this changed estimate of him be + attributed to her regard for Austen, for she recalled a day only a few + months since—in June—when he had come up to Fairview and she + was standing on the lawn, and she had looked at him without recognition; + she had not, then, been able to bring herself to bow to him; to her + childhood distaste had been added the deeper resentment of Austen's + wrongs. Her early instincts about Hilary had been vindicated, for he had + treated his son abominably and driven Austen from his mother's home. To + misunderstand and maltreat Austen Vane, of all people Austen, whose + consideration for his father had been what it had! Could it be that Hilary + felt remorse? Could it be that he loved Austen in some peculiar manner all + his own? + </p> + <p> + Victoria knew now—so strangely—that the man beside her was + capable of love, and she had never felt that way about Hilary Vane. And + her mind was confused, and her heart was troubled and wrung. Insight + flashed upon her of the terrible loneliness of a life surrounded by + outstretched, loving arms to which one could not fly; scenes from a famous + classic she had read with a favourite teacher at school came to her, and + she knew that she was the witness of a retribution, of a suffering beyond + conception of a soul prepared for suffering,—not physical suffering, + but of that torture which is the meaning of hell. + </p> + <p> + However, there was physical suffering. It came and went, and at such + moments she saw the traces of it in the tightening of his lips, and longed + with womanly intuition to alleviate it. She had not spoken—although + she could have cried aloud; she knew not what to say. And then suddenly + she reached out and touched his hand. Nor could she have accounted for the + action. + </p> + <p> + “Are you in much pain?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + She felt him tremble. + </p> + <p> + “No,” he said; “it's only a spell—I've had 'em before. I—I can + drive in a few minutes.” + </p> + <p> + “And do you think,” she asked, “that I would allow you to go the rest of + the way alone?” + </p> + <p> + “I guess I ought to thank you for comin' with me,” he said. + </p> + <p> + Victoria looked at him and smiled. And it was an illuminating smile for + her as well as for Hilary. Suddenly, by that strange power of sympathy + which the unselfish possess, she understood the man, understood Austen's + patience with him and affection for him. Suddenly she had pierced the hard + layers of the outer shell, and had heard the imprisoned spirit crying with + a small persistent voice,—a spirit stifled for many years and + starved—and yet it lived and struggled still. + </p> + <p> + Yes, and that spirit itself must have felt her own reaching out to it—who + can, say? And how it must have striven again for utterance— + </p> + <p> + “It was good of you to come,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “It was only common humanity,” she answered, touching the horse. + </p> + <p> + “Common humanity,” he repeated. “You'd have done it for anybody along the + road, would you?” + </p> + <p> + At this remark, so characteristic of Hilary, Victoria, hesitated. She + understood it now. And yet she hesitated to give him an answer that was + hypocritical. + </p> + <p> + “I have known you all my life, Mr. Vane, and you are a very old friend of + my father's.” + </p> + <p> + “Old,” he repeated, “yes, that's it. I'm ready for the scrap-heap—better + have let me lie, Victoria.” + </p> + <p> + Victoria started. A new surmise had occurred to her upon which she did not + like to dwell. + </p> + <p> + “You have worked too hard, Mr. Vane—you need a rest. And I have been + telling father that, too. You both need a rest.” + </p> + <p> + He shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “I'll never get it,” he said. “Stopping work won't give it to me.” + </p> + <p> + She pondered on these words as she guided the horse over a crossing. And + all that Austen had said to her, all that she had been thinking of for a + year past, helped her to grasp their meaning. But she wondered still more + at the communion which, all at once, had been established between Hilary + Vane and herself, and why he was saying these things to her. It was all so + unreal and inexplicable. + </p> + <p> + “I can imagine that people who have worked hard all their lives must feel + that way,” she answered, though her voice was not as steady as she could + have wished. “You—you have so much to live for.” + </p> + <p> + Her colour rose. She was thinking of Austen—and she knew that Hilary + Vane knew that she was thinking of Austen. Moreover, she had suddenly + grasped the fact that the gentle but persistently strong influence of the + son's character had brought about the change in the father. Hilary Vane's + lips closed again, as in pain, and she divined the reason. + </p> + <p> + Victoria knew the house in Hanover Street, with its classic porch, with + its certain air of distinction and stability, and long before she had + known it as the Austen residence she remembered wondering who lived in it. + The house had individuality, and (looked at from the front) almost perfect + proportions; consciously—it bespoke the gentility of its builders. + Now she drew up before it and called to Mr. Rangely, who was abreast, to + tie his horse and ring the bell. Hilary was already feeling with his foot + for the step of the buggy. + </p> + <p> + “I'm all right,” he insisted; “I can manage now,” but Victoria seized his + arm with a firm, detaining hand. + </p> + <p> + “Please wait,—Mr. Vane,” she pleaded. + </p> + <p> + But the feeling of shame at his helplessness was strong. + </p> + <p> + “It's over now. I—I can walk. I'm much obliged to you, Victoria—much + obliged.” + </p> + <p> + Fortunately Hilary's horse showed no inclination to go any farther—even + to the stable. And Victoria held on to his arm. He ceased to protest, and + Mr. Rangely quickly tied the other horse and came to Victoria's aid. + Supported by the young Englishman, Hilary climbed the stone steps and + reached the porch, declaring all the while that he needed no assistance, + and could walk alone. Victoria rang the bell, and after an interval the + door was opened by Euphrasia Cotton. + </p> + <p> + Euphrasia stood upright with her hand on the knob, and her eyes flashed + over the group and rested fixedly on the daughter of Mr. Flint. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Vane was not very well,” Victoria explained, “and we came home with + him.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm all right,” said Hilary, once more, and to prove it he stepped—not + very steadily—across the threshold into the hall, and sat down on a + chair which had had its place at the foot of the stairs from time + immemorial. Euphrasia stood still. + </p> + <p> + “I think,” said Victoria, “that Mr. Vane had better see a doctor. Have you + a telephone?” + </p> + <p> + “No, we haven't,” said Euphrasia. + </p> + <p> + Victoria turned to Mr. Rangely, who had been a deeply interested spectator + to this scene. + </p> + <p> + “A little way down the street, on the other side, Dr. Tredway lives. You + will see his sign.” + </p> + <p> + “And if he isn't in, go to the hospital. It's only a few doors farther + on.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll wait,” said Victoria, simply, when he had gone; “my father will wish + to know about Mr. Vane.” + </p> + <p> + “Hold on,” said Hilary, “I haven't any use for a doctor—I won't see + one. I know what the trouble is, and I'm all right.” + </p> + <p> + Victoria became aware—for the first time that Hilary Vane's + housekeeper had not moved; that Euphrasia Cotton was still staring at her + in a most disconcerting manner, and was paying no attention whatever to + Hilary. + </p> + <p> + “Come in and set down,” she said; and seeing Victoria glance at Hilary's + horse, she added, “Oh, he'll stand there till doomsday.” + </p> + <p> + Victoria, thinking that the situation would be less awkward, accepted the + invitation, and Euphrasia shut the door. The hall, owing to the fact that + the shutters of the windows by the stairs were always closed, was in + semidarkness. Victoria longed to let in the light, to take this strange, + dried-up housekeeper and shake her into some semblance of natural feeling. + And this was Austen's home! It was to this house, made gloomy by these + people, that he had returned every night! Infinitely depressed, she felt + that she must take some action, or cry aloud. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Vane,” she said, laying a hand upon his shoulder, “I think you ought, + at least, to lie down for a little while. Isn't there a sofa in—in + the parlour?” she asked Euphrasia. + </p> + <p> + “You can't get him to do anything,” Euphrasia replied, with decision; + “he'll die some day for want of a little common sense. I shouldn't wonder + if he was took on soon.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” cried Victoria. She could think of no words to answer this remark. + </p> + <p> + “It wouldn't surprise me,” Euphrasia continued. “He fell down the stairs + here not long ago, and went right on about his business. He's never paid + any attention to anybody, and I guess it's a mite late to expect him to + begin now. Won't you set down?” + </p> + <p> + There was another chair against the low wainscoting, and Victoria drew it + over beside Hilary and sat down in it. He did not seem to notice the + action, and Euphrasia continued to stand. Standing seemed to be the + natural posture of this remarkable woman, Victoria thought—a posture + of vigilance, of defiance. A clock of one of the Austen grandfathers stood + obscurely at the back of the hall, and the measured swing of its pendulum + was all that broke the silence. This was Austen's home. It seemed + impossible for her to realize that he could be the product of this + environment—until a portrait on the opposite wall, above the stairs, + came out of the gloom and caught her eye like the glow of light. At first, + becoming aware of it with a start, she thought it a likeness of Austen + himself. Then she saw that the hair was longer, and more wavy than his, + and fell down a little over the velvet collar of a coat with a wide lapel + and brass buttons, and that the original of this portrait had worn a + stock. The face had not quite the strength of Austen's, she thought, but a + wondrous sweetness and intellect shone from it, like an expression she had + seen on his face. The chin rested on the hand, an intellectual hand,—and + the portrait brought to her mind that of a young English statesman she had + seen in the National Gallery in London. + </p> + <p> + “That's Channing Austen,—he was minister to Spain.” + </p> + <p> + Victoria started. It was Euphrasia who was speaking, and unmistakable + pride was in her voice. + </p> + <p> + Fortunately for Victoria, who would not in the least have known what to + reply, steps were heard on the porch, and Euphrasia opened the door. Mr. + Rangely had returned. + </p> + <p> + “Here's the doctor, Miss Flint,” he said, “and I'll wait for you outside.” + </p> + <p> + Victoria rose as young Dr. Tredway came forward. They were old friends, + and the doctor, it may be recalled, had been chiefly responsible for the + preservation of the life of Mr. Zebulun Meader. + </p> + <p> + “I have sent for you, Doctor,” she said, “against instructions and on my + own responsibility. Mr. Vane is ill, although he refuses to admit it.” + </p> + <p> + Dr. Tredway had a respect for Victoria and her opinions, and he knew + Hilary. He opened the door a little wider, and looked critically at Mr. + Vane. + </p> + <p> + “It's nothing but a spell,” Hilary insisted. “I've had 'em before. I + suppose it's natural that they should scare the women-folks some.” + </p> + <p> + “What kind of a spell was it, Mr. Vane?” asked the doctor. + </p> + <p> + “It isn't worth talking about,” said Hilary. “You might as well pick up + that case of yours and go home again. I'm going down to the square in a + little while.” + </p> + <p> + “You see,” Euphrasia put in, “he's made up his mind to kill himself.” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps,” said the doctor, smiling a little, “Mr. Vane wouldn't object to + Miss Flint telling me what happened.” + </p> + <p> + Victoria glanced at the doctor and hesitated. Her sympathy for Hilary, her + new understanding of him, urged her on—and yet never in her life had + she been made to feel so distinctly an intruder. Here was the doctor, with + his case; here was this extraordinary housekeeper, apparently ready to let + Hilary walk to the square, if he wished, and to shut the door on their + backs; and here was Hilary himself, who threatened at any moment to make + his word good and depart from their midst. Only the fact that she was + convinced that Hilary was in real danger made her relate, in a few brief + words, what had occurred, and when she had finished Mr. Vane made no + comment whatever. + </p> + <p> + Dr. Tredway turned to Hilary. + </p> + <p> + “I am going to take a mean advantage of you, Mr. Vane,” he said, “and sit + here awhile and talk to you. Would you object to waiting a little while, + Miss Flint? I have something to say to you,” he added significantly, “and + this meeting will save me a trip to Fairview.” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly I'll wait,” she said. + </p> + <p> + “You can come along with me,” said Euphrasia, “if you've a notion to.” + </p> + <p> + Victoria was of two minds whether to accept this invitation. She had an + intense desire to get outside, but this was counter-balanced by a sudden + curiosity to see more of this strange woman who loved but one person in + the world. Tom Gaylord had told Victoria that. She followed Euphrasia to + the back of the hall. + </p> + <p> + “There's the parlour,” said Euphrasia; “it's never be'n used since Mrs. + Vane died,—but there it is.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh,” said Victoria, with a glance into the shadowy depths of the room, + “please don't open it for me. Can't we go,” she added, with an + inspiration, “can't we go into—the kitchen?” She knew it was + Euphrasia's place. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said Euphrasia, “I shouldn't have thought you'd care much about + kitchens.” And she led the way onward; through the little passage, to the + room where she had spent most of her days. It was flooded with level, + yellow rays of light that seemed to be searching the corners in vain for + dust. Victoria paused in the doorway. + </p> + <p> + “I'm afraid you do me an injustice,” she said. “I like some kitchens.” + </p> + <p> + “You don't look as if you knew much about 'em,” was Euphrasia's answer. + With Victoria once again in the light, Euphrasia scrutinized her with + appalling frankness, taking in every detail of her costume and at length + raising her eyes to the girl's face. Victoria coloured. On her visits + about the country-side she had met women of Euphrasia's type before, and + had long ago ceased to be dismayed by their manner. But her instinct + detected in Euphrasia a hostility for which she could not account. + </p> + <p> + In that simple but exquisite gown which so subtly suited her, the creation + of which had aroused the artist in a celebrated Parisian dressmaker, + Victoria was, indeed, a strange visitant in that kitchen. She took a seat + by the window, and an involuntary exclamation of pleasure escaped her as + her eyes fell upon the little, old-fashioned flower garden beneath it. The + act and the exclamation for the moment disarmed Euphrasia. + </p> + <p> + “They were Sarah Austen's—Mrs. Vane's,” she explained, “just as she + planted them the year she died. I've always kept 'em just so.” + </p> + <p> + “Mrs. Vane must have loved flowers,” said Victoria. + </p> + <p> + “Loved 'em! They were everything to her—and the wild flowers, too. + She used to wander off and spend whole days in the country, and come back + after sunset with her arms full.” + </p> + <p> + “It was nature she loved,” said Victoria, in a low voice. + </p> + <p> + “That was it—nature,” said Euphrasia. “She loved all nature. There + wasn't a living, creeping thing that wasn't her friend. I've seen birds + eat out of her hand in that window where you're settin', and she'd say to + me, 'Phrasie, keep still! They'd love you, too, if they only knew you, but + they're afraid you'll scrub 'em if you get hold of them, the way you used + to scrub me.'” + </p> + <p> + Victoria smiled—but it was a smile that had tears in it. Euphrasia + Cotton was standing in the shaft of sunlight at the other window, staring + at the little garden. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, she used to say funny things like that, to make you laugh when you + were all ready to cry. There wasn't many folks understood her. She knew + every path and hilltop within miles of here, and every brook and spring, + and she used to talk about that mountain just as if it was alive.” + </p> + <p> + Victoria caught her breath. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” continued Euphrasia, “the mountain was alive for her. 'He's angry + to-day, Phrasie. That's because, you lost your temper and scolded Hilary.' + It's a queer thing, but there have been hundreds of times since when he + needed scoldin' bad, and I've looked at the mountain and held my tongue. + It was just as if I saw her with that half-whimsical, half-reproachful + expression in her eyes, holding up her finger at me. And there were other + mornings when she'd say, 'The mountain's lonesome today, he wants me.' And + I vow, I'd look at the mountain and it would seem lonesome. That sounds + like nonsense, don't it?” Euphrasia demanded, with a sudden sharpness. + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Victoria, “it seems very real to me.” + </p> + <p> + The simplicity, the very ring of truth, and above all the absolute lack of + self-consciousness in the girl's answer sustained the spell. + </p> + <p> + “She'd go when the mountain called her, it didn't make any difference + whether it was raining—rain never appeared to do her any hurt. + Nothin' natural ever did her any hurt. When she was a little child + flittin' about like a wild creature, and she'd come in drenched to the + skin, it was all I could do to catch her and change her clothes. She'd + laugh at me. 'We're meant to be wet once in a while, Phrasie,' she'd say; + 'that's what the rain's for, to wet us. It washes some of the wickedness + out of us.' It was the unnatural things that hurt her—the unkind + words and makin' her act against her nature. 'Phrasie,' she said once, 'I + can't pray in the meeting-house with my eyes shut—I can't, I can't. + I seem to know what they're all wishing for when they pray,—for more + riches, and more comfort, and more security, and more importance. And God + is such a long way off. I can't feel Him, and the pew hurts my back.' She + used to read me some, out of a book of poetry, and one verse I got by + heart—I guess her prayers were like that.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you—remember the verse?” asked Victoria. + </p> + <p> + Euphrasia went to a little shelf in the corner of the kitchen and produced + a book, which, she opened and handed to Victoria. + </p> + <p> + “There's the verse!” she said; “read it aloud. I guess you're better at + that than I am.” + </p> + <p> + And Victoria read:— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Higher still and higher + From the earth thou springest + Like a cloud of fire; + The blue deep thou wingest, + And singing still dost soar, and soaring ever singest.” + </pre> + <p> + Victoria let fall the volume on her lap. + </p> + <p> + “There's another verse in that book she liked,” said Euphrasia, “but it + always was sad to me.” + </p> + <p> + Victoria took the book, and read again:— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Weary wind, who wanderest + Like the world's rejected guest, + Hast thou still some secret nest + On the tree or billow?” + </pre> + <p> + Euphrasia laid the volume tenderly on the shelf, and turned and faced + Victoria. + </p> + <p> + “She was unhappy like that before she died,” she exclaimed, and added, + with a fling of her head towards the front of the house, “he killed her.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no!” cried Victoria, involuntarily rising to her feet. “Oh, no! I'm + sure he didn't mean to. He didn't understand her!” + </p> + <p> + “He killed her,” Euphrasia repeated. “Why didn't he understand her? She + was just as simple as a child, and just as trusting, and just as loving. + He made her unhappy, and now he's driven her son out of her house, and + made him unhappy. He's all of her I have left, and I won't see him + unhappy.” + </p> + <p> + Victoria summoned her courage. + </p> + <p> + “Don't you think,” she asked bravely, “that Mr. Austen Vane ought to be + told that his father is—in this condition?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Euphrasia, determinedly. “Hilary will have to send for him. + This time it'll be Austen's victory.” + </p> + <p> + “But hasn't he had—a victory?” Victoria persisted earnestly. “Isn't + this—victory enough?” + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean?” Euphrasia cried sharply. + </p> + <p> + “I mean,” she answered, in a low voice, “I mean that Mr. Vane's son is + responsible for his condition to-day. Oh—not consciously so. But the + cause of this trouble is mental—can't you see it? The cause of this + trouble is remorse. Can't you see that it has eaten into his soul? Do you + wish a greater victory than this, or a sadder one? Hilary Vane will not + ask for his son—because he cannot. He has no more power to send that + message than a man shipwrecked on an island. He can only give signals of + distress—that some may heed. Would She have waited for such a + victory as you demand? And does Austen Vane desire it? Don't you think + that he would come to his father if he knew? And have you any right to + keep the news from him? Have you any right to decide what their vengeance + shall be?” + </p> + <p> + Euphrasia had stood mute as she listened to these words which she had so + little expected, but her eyes flashed and her breath came quickly. Never + had she been so spoken to! Never had any living soul come between her and + her cherished object the breaking of the heart of Hilary Vane! Nor, + indeed, had that object ever been so plainly set forth as Victoria had set + it forth. And this woman who dared to do this had herself brought + unhappiness to Austen. Euphrasia had almost forgotten that, such had been + the strange harmony of their communion. + </p> + <p> + “Have you the right to tell Austen?” she demanded. + </p> + <p> + “Have I?” Victoria repeated. And then, as the full meaning of the question + came to her; the colour flooded into her face, and she would have fled, if + she could, bud Euphrasia's words came in a torrent. + </p> + <p> + “You've made him unhappy, as well as Hilary. He loves you—but he + wouldn't speak of it to you. Oh, no, he didn't tell me who it was, but I + never rested till I found out. He never would have told me about it at + all, or anybody else, but that I guessed it. I saw he was unhappy, and I + calculated it wasn't Hilary alone made him so. One night he came in here, + and I knew all at once—somehow—there was a woman to blame, and + I asked him, and he couldn't lie to me. He said it wasn't anybody's fault + but his own—he wouldn't say any more than that, except that he + hadn't spoken to her. I always expected the time was coming when there + would be—a woman. And I never thought the woman lived that he'd love + who wouldn't love him. I can't see how any woman could help lovin' him. + </p> + <p> + “And then I found out it was that railroad. It came between Sarah Austen + and her happiness, and now it's come between Austen and his. Perhaps you + don't love him!” cried Euphrasia. “Perhaps you're too rich and high and + mighty. Perhaps you're a-going to marry that fine young man who came with + you in the buggy. Since I heard who you was, I haven't had a happy hour. + Let me tell you there's no better blood in the land than the Austen blood. + I won't mention the Vanes. If you've led him on, if you've deceived him, I + hope you may be unhappy as Sarah Austen was—” + </p> + <p> + “Don't!” pleaded Victoria; “don't! Please don't!” and she seized Euphrasia + by the arms, as though seeking by physical force to stop the intolerable + flow of words. “Oh, you don't know me; you can't understand me if you say + that. How can you be so cruel?” + </p> + <p> + In another moment she had gone, leaving Euphrasia standing in the middle + of the floor, staring after her through the doorway. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0026" id="link2HCH0026"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXVI. THE FOCUS OF WRATH + </h2> + <p> + Victoria, after leaving Euphrasia, made her way around the house towards + Mr. Rangely, who was waiting in the runabout, her one desire for the + moment being to escape. Before she had reached the sidewalk under the + trees, Dr. Tredway had interrupted her. + </p> + <p> + “Miss Flint,” he called out, “I wanted to say a word to you before you + went.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” she said, stopping and turning to him. + </p> + <p> + He paused a moment before speaking, as he looked into her face. + </p> + <p> + “I don't wonder this has upset you a little,” he said; “a reaction always + comes afterwards—even with the strongest of us.” + </p> + <p> + “I am all right,” she replied, unconsciously repeating Hilary's words. + “How is Mr. Vane?” + </p> + <p> + “You have done a splendid thing,” said the doctor, gravely. And he + continued, after a moment: “It is Mr. Vane I wanted to speak to you about. + He is an intimate friend, I believe, of your father's, as well as Mr. + Flint's right-hand man in—in a business way in this State. Mr. Vane + himself will not listen to reason. I have told him plainly that if he does + not drop all business at once, the chances are ten to one that he will + forfeit his life very shortly. I understand that there is a—a + convention to be held at the capital the day after to-morrow, and that it + is Mr. Vane's firm intention to attend it. I take the liberty of + suggesting that you lay these facts before your father, as Mr. Flint + probably has more influence with Hilary Vane than any other man. However,” + he added, seeing Victoria hesitate, “if there is any reason why you should + not care to speak to Mr. Flint—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no,” said Victoria; “I'll speak to him, certainly. I was going to ask + you—have you thought of Mr. Austen Vane? He might be able to do + something.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course,” said the doctor, after a moment, “it is an open secret that + Austen and his father have—have, in short, never agreed. They are + not now on speaking terms.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't you think,” asked Victoria, summoning her courage, “that Austen + Vane ought to be told?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” the doctor repeated decidedly, “I am sure of it. Everybody who + knows Austen Vane as I do has the greatest admiration for him. You + probably remember him in that Meader case,—he isn't a man one would + be likely to forget,—and I know that this quarrel with his father + isn't of Austen's seeking.” + </p> + <p> + “Oughtn't he to be told—at once?” said Victoria. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said the doctor; “time is valuable, and we can't predict what + Hilary will do. At any rate, Austen ought to know—but the trouble + is, he's at Jenney's farm. I met him on the way out there just before your + friend the Englishman caught me. And unfortunately I have a case which I + cannot neglect. But I can send word to him.” + </p> + <p> + “I know where Jenney's farm is,” said Victoria; “I'll drive home that + way.” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” exclaimed Dr. Tredway, heartily, “that's good of you. Somebody who + knows Hilary's situation ought to see him, and I can think of no better + messenger than you.” + </p> + <p> + And he helped her into the runabout. + </p> + <p> + Young Mr. Rangely being a gentleman, he refrained from asking Victoria + questions on the drive out of Ripton, and expressed the greatest + willingness to accompany her on this errand and to see her home + afterwards. He had been deeply impressed, but he felt instinctively that + after such a serious occurrence, this was not the time to continue to give + hints of his admiration. He had heard in England that many American women + whom he would be likely to meet socially were superficial and + pleasure-loving; and Arthur Rangely came of a family which had long been + cited as a vindication of a government by aristocracy,—a family + which had never shirked responsibilities. It is not too much to say that + he had pictured Victoria among his future tenantry; she had appealed to + him first as a woman, but the incident of the afternoon had revealed her + to him, as it were, under fire. + </p> + <p> + They spoke quietly of places they both had visited, of people whom they + knew in common, until they came to the hills—the very threshold of + Paradise on that September evening. Those hills never failed to move + Victoria, and they were garnished this evening in no earthly colours,—rose-lighted + on the billowy western pasture slopes and pearl in the deep clefts of the + streams, and the lordly form of Sawanec shrouded in indigo against a flame + of orange. And orange fainted, by the subtlest of colour changes, to azure + in which swam, so confidently, a silver evening star. + </p> + <p> + In silence they drew up before Mr. Jenney's ancestral trees, and through + the deepening shadows beneath these the windows of the farm-house glowed + with welcoming light. At Victoria's bidding Mr. Rangely knocked to ask for + Austen Vane, and Austen himself answered the summons. He held a book in + his hand, and as Rangely spoke she saw Austen's look turn quickly to her, + and met it through the gathering gloom between them. In an instant he was + at her side, looking up questioningly into her face, and the telltale + blood leaped into hers. What must he think of her for coming again? She + could not speak of her errand too quickly. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Vane, I came to leave a message.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes?” he said, and glanced at the broad-shouldered, well-groomed figure + of Mr. Rangely, who was standing at a discreet distance. + </p> + <p> + “Your father has had an attack of some kind,—please don't be + alarmed, he seems to be recovered now,—and I thought and Dr. Tredway + thought you ought to know about it. The doctor could not leave Ripton, and + I offered to come and tell you.” + </p> + <p> + “An attack?” he repeated. + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” Hilary and she related simply how she had found Hilary at Fairview, + and how she had driven him home. But, during the whole of her recital, she + could not rid herself of the apprehension that he was thinking her + interference unwarranted, her coming an indelicate repetition of the other + visit. As he stood there listening in the gathering dusk, she could not + tell from his face what he thought. His expression, when serious, had a + determined, combative, almost grim note in it, which came from a habit he + had of closing his jaw tightly; and his eyes were like troubled skies + through which there trembled an occasional flash of light. + </p> + <p> + Victoria had never felt his force so strongly as now, and never had he + seemed more distant; at times—she had thought—she had had + glimpses of his soul; to-night he was inscrutable, and never had she + realized the power (which she had known he must possess) of making himself + so. And to her? Her pride forbade her recalling at that moment the + confidences which had passed between them and which now seemed to have + been so impossible. He was serious because he was listening to serious + news—she told herself. But it was more than this: he had shut + himself up, he was impenetrable. Shame seized her; yes, and anger; and + shame again at the remembrance of her talk with Euphrasia—and anger + once more. Could he think that she would make advances to tempt his + honour, and risk his good opinion and her own? + </p> + <p> + Confidence is like a lute-string, giving forth sweet sounds in its + perfection; there are none so discordant as when it snaps. + </p> + <p> + Victoria scarcely heard Austen's acknowledgments of her kindness, so + perfunctory did they seem, so unlike the man she had known; and her own + protestations that she had done nothing to merit his thanks were to her + quite as unreal. She introduced him to the Englishman. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Rangely has been good enough to come with me,” she said. + </p> + <p> + “I've never seen anybody act with more presence of mind than Miss Flint,” + Rangely declared, as he shook Austen's hand. “She did just the right + thing, without wasting any time whatever.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm sure of it,” said Austen, cordially enough. But to Victoria's keener + ear, other tones which she had heard at other times were lacking. Nor + could she, clever as she was, see the palpable reason standing before her! + </p> + <p> + “I say,” said Rangely, as they drove away, “he strikes me as a remarkably + sound chap, Miss Flint. There is something unusual about him, something + clean cut.” + </p> + <p> + “I've heard other people say so,” Victoria replied. For the first time + since she had known him, praise of Austen was painful to her. What was + this curious attraction that roused the interest of all who came in + contact with him? The doctor had it, Mr. Redbrook, Jabe Jenney,—even + Hamilton Tooting, she remembered. And he attracted women as well as men—it + must be so. Certainly her own interest in him—a man beyond the + radius of her sphere—and their encounters had been strange enough! + And must she go on all her life hearing praises of him? Of one thing she + was sure—who was not?—that Austen Vane had a future. He was + the type of man which is inevitably impelled into places of trust. + </p> + <p> + Manly men, as a rule, do not understand women. They humour them blindly, + seek to comfort them—if they weep—with caresses, laugh with + them if they have leisure, and respect their curious and unaccountable + moods by keeping out of the way. Such a husband was Arthur Rangely + destined to make; a man who had seen any number of women and understood + none,—as wondrous mechanisms. He had merely acquired the faculty of + appraisal, although this does not mean that he was incapable of falling in + love. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Rangely could not account for the sudden access of gayety in + Victoria's manner as they drove to Fairview through the darkness, nor did + he try. He took what the gods sent him, and was thankful. When he reached + Fairview he was asked to dinner, as he could not possibly get back to the + Inn in time. Mr. Flint had gone to Sumner with the engineers, leaving + orders to be met at the East Tunbridge station at ten; and Mrs. Flint, + still convalescent, had dined in her sitting room. Victoria sat opposite + her guest in the big dining room, and Mr. Rangely pronounced the occasion + decidedly jolly. He had, he proclaimed, with the exception of Mr. Vane's + deplorable accident, never spent a better day in his life. + </p> + <p> + Victoria wondered at her own spirits, which were feverish, as she listened + to transatlantic gossip about girls she had known who had married Mr. + Rangely's friends, and stories of Westminster and South Africa, and + certain experiences of Mr. Rangely's at other places than Leith on the + American continent, which he had grown sufficiently confidential to + relate. At times, lifting her eyes to him as he sat smoking after dinner + on the other side of the library fire, she almost doubted his existence. + He had come into her life at one o'clock that day—it seemed an + eternity since. And a subconscious voice, heard but not heeded, told her + that in the awakening from this curious dream he would be associated in + her memory with tragedy, just as a tune or a book or a game of cards + reminds one of painful periods of one's existence. To-morrow the—episode + would be a nightmare; to-night her one desire was to prolong it. + </p> + <p> + And poor Mr. Rangely little imagined the part he was playing—as + little as he deserved it. Reluctant to leave, propriety impelled him to + ask for a trap at ten, and it was half past before he finally made his + exit from the room with a promise to pay his respects soon—very + soon. + </p> + <p> + Victoria stood before the fire listening to the sound of the wheels + gradually growing fainter, and her mind refused to work. Hanover Street, + Mr. Jenney's farm-house, were unrealities too. Ten minutes later—if + she had marked the interval—came the sound of wheels again, this + time growing louder. Then she heard a voice in the hall, her father's + voice. + </p> + <p> + “Towers, who was that?” + </p> + <p> + “A young gentleman, sir, who drove home with Miss Victoria. I didn't get + his name, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Has Miss Victoria retired?” + </p> + <p> + “She's in the library, sir. Here are some telegrams, Mr. Flint.” + </p> + <p> + Victoria heard her father tearing open the telegrams and walking towards + the library with slow steps as he read them. She did not stir from her + place before the fire. She saw him enter and, with a characteristic + movement which had become almost habitual of late, crush the telegrams in + front of him with both hands. + </p> + <p> + “Well, Victoria?” he said. + </p> + <p> + “Well, father?” + </p> + <p> + It was characteristic of him, too, that he should momentarily drop the + conversation, unravel the ball of telegrams, read one, crush them once + more,—a process that seemed to give him relief. He glanced at his + daughter—she had not moved. Whatever Mr. Flint's original character + may have been in his long-forgotten youth on the wind-swept hill farm in + Truro, his methods of attack lacked directness now; perhaps a long + business and political experience were responsible for this trait. + </p> + <p> + “Your mother didn't come down to dinner, I suppose.” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Victoria. + </p> + <p> + “Simpson tells me the young bull got loose and cut himself badly. He says + it's the fault of the Eben Fitch you got me to hire.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't believe it was Eben's fault—Simpson doesn't like him,” + Victoria replied. + </p> + <p> + “Simpson tells me Fitch drinks.” + </p> + <p> + “Let a man get a bad name,” said Victoria, “and Simpson will take care + that he doesn't lose it.” The unexpected necessity of defending one of her + proteges aroused her. “I've made it a point to see Eben every day for the + last three months, and he hasn't touched a drop. He's one of the best + workers we have on the place.” + </p> + <p> + “I've got too much on my mind to put up with that kind of thing,” said Mr. + Flint, “and I won't be worried here on the place. I can get capable men to + tend cattle, at least. I have to put up with political rascals who rob and + deceive me as soon as my back is turned, I have to put up with + inefficiency and senility, but I won't have it at home.” + </p> + <p> + “Fitch will be transferred to the gardener if you think best,” she said. + </p> + <p> + It suddenly occurred to Victoria, in the light of a new discovery, that in + the past her father's irritability had not extended to her. And this + discovery, she knew, ought to have some significance, but she felt + unaccountably indifferent to it. Mr. Flint walked to a window at the far + end of the room and flung apart the tightly closed curtains before it. + </p> + <p> + “I never can get used to this new-fangled way of shutting everything up + tight,” he declared. “When I lived in Centre Street, I used to read with + the curtains up every night, and nobody ever shot me.” He stood looking + out at the starlight for awhile, and turned and faced her again. + </p> + <p> + “I haven't seen much of you this summer, Victoria,” he remarked. + </p> + <p> + “I'm sorry, father. You know I always like to walk with you every day you + are here.” He had aroused her sufficiently to have a distinct sense that + this was not the time to refer to the warning she had given him that he + was working too hard. But he was evidently bent on putting this + construction on her answer. + </p> + <p> + “Several times I have asked for you, and you have been away,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “If you had only let me know, I should have made it a point to be at + home.” + </p> + <p> + “How can I tell when these idiots will give me any rest?” he asked. He + crushed the telegrams again, and came down the room and stopped in front + of her. “Perhaps there has been a particular reason why you have not been + at home as much as usual.” + </p> + <p> + “A particular reason?” she repeated, in genuine surprise. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” he said; “I have been hearing things which, to put it mildly, have + astonished me.” + </p> + <p> + “Hearing things?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” he exclaimed. “I may be busy, I may be harassed by tricksters and + bunglers, but I am not too busy not to care something about my daughter's + doings. I expect them to deceive me, Victoria, but I pinned my faith + somewhere. I pinned it on you. On you, do you understand?” + </p> + <p> + She raised her head for the first time and looked at him, with her lips + quivering. But she did not speak. + </p> + <p> + “Ever since you were a child you have been everything to me, all I had to + fly to. I was always sure of one genuine, disinterested love—and + that was yours. I was always sure of hearing the truth from your lips.” + </p> + <p> + “Father!” she cried. + </p> + <p> + He seemed not to hear the agonized appeal in her voice. Although he spoke + in his usual tones, Augustus Flint was, in fact, beside himself. + </p> + <p> + “And now,” he said, “and now I learn that you have been holding + clandestine meetings with a man who is my enemy, with a man who has done + me more harm than any other single individual, with a man whom I will not + have in my house—do you understand? I can only say that before + to-night, I gave him credit for having the decency not to enter it, not to + sit down at my table.” + </p> + <p> + Victoria turned away from him, and seized the high oak shelf of the mantel + with both hands. He saw her shoulders rising and falling as her breath + came deeply, spasmodically—like sobbing. But she was not sobbing as + she turned again and looked into his face. Fear was in her eye, and the + high courage to look: fear and courage. She seemed to be looking at + another man, at a man who was not her father. And Mr. Flint, despite his + anger, vaguely interpreting her meaning, was taken aback. He had never + seen anybody with such a look. And the unexpected quiet quality of her + voice intensified his strange sensation. + </p> + <p> + “A Mr. Rangely, an Englishman, who is staying at the Leith Inn, was here + to dinner to-night. He has never been here before.” + </p> + <p> + “Austen Vane wasn't here to-night?” + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Vane has never been in this house to my knowledge but once, and you + knew more about that meeting than I do.” + </p> + <p> + And still Victoria spoke quietly, inexplicably so to Mr. Flint—and + to herself. It seemed to her that some other than she were answering with + her voice, and that she alone felt. It was all a part of the nightmare, + all unreal, and this was not her father; nevertheless, she suffered now, + not from anger alone, nor sorrow, nor shame for him and for herself, nor + disgust, nor a sense of injustice, nor cruelty—but all of these + played upon a heart responsive to each with a different pain. + </p> + <p> + And Mr. Flint, halted for the moment by her look and manner, yet goaded on + by a fiend of provocation which had for months been gathering strength, + and which now mastered him completely, persisted. He knew not what he did + or said. + </p> + <p> + “And you haven't seen him to-day, I suppose,” he cried. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I have seen him to-day.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, you have! I thought as much. Where did you meet him to-day?” + </p> + <p> + Victoria turned half away from him, raised a hand to the mantel-shelf + again, and lifted a foot to the low brass fender as she looked down into + the fire. The movement was not part of a desire to evade him, as he + fancied in his anger, but rather one of profound indifference, of profound + weariness—the sunless deeps of sorrow. And he thought her capable of + deceiving him! He had been her constant companion from childhood, and knew + only the visible semblance of her face, her form, her smile. Her sex was + the sex of subterfuge. + </p> + <p> + “I went to the place where he is living, and asked for him,” she said, + “and he came out and spoke to me.” + </p> + <p> + “You?” he repeated incredulously. There was surely no subterfuge in her + tone, but an unreal, unbelievable note which his senses seized, and to + which he clung. “You! My daughter!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” she answered, “I, your daughter. I suppose you think I am + shameless. It is true—I am.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Flint was utterly baffled. He was at sea. He had got beyond the range + of his experience; defence, denial, tears, he could have understood and + coped with. He crushed the telegrams into a tighter ball, sought for a + footing, and found a precarious one. + </p> + <p> + “And all this has been going on without my knowledge, when you knew my + sentiments towards the man?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” she said. “I do not know what you include in that remark, but I + have seen him many times as many times, perhaps, as you have heard about.” + </p> + <p> + He wheeled, and walked over to a cabinet between two of the great windows + and stood there examining a collection of fans which his wife had bought + at a famous sale in Paris. Had he suddenly been asked the question, he + could not have said whether they were fans or beetles. And it occurred to + Victoria, as her eyes rested on his back, that she ought to be sorry for + him—but wasn't, somehow. Perhaps she would be to-morrow. Mr. Flint + looked at the fans, and an obscure glimmering of the truth came to him + that instead of administering a severe rebuke to the daughter he believed + he had known all his life, he was engaged in a contest with the soul of a + woman he had never known. And the more she confessed, the more she + apparently yielded, the more impotent he seemed, the tighter the demon + gripped him. Obstacles, embarrassments, disappointments, he had met early + in his life, and he had taken them as they came. There had followed a long + period when his word had been law. And now, as age came on, and he was + meeting with obstacles again, he had lost the magic gift of sweeping them + aside; the growing certainty that he was becoming powerless haunted him + night and day. Unbelievably strange, however, it was that the rays of his + anger by some subconscious process had hovered from the first about the + son of Hilary Vane, and were now, by the trend of event after event, + firmly focussed there. + </p> + <p> + He left the cabinet abruptly and came back to Victoria. + </p> + <p> + She was standing in the same position. + </p> + <p> + “You have spared me something,” he said. “He has apparently undermined me + with my own daughter. He has evidently given you an opinion of me which is + his. I think I can understand why you have not spoken of these—meetings.” + </p> + <p> + “It is an inference that I expected,” said Victoria. Then she lifted her + head and looked at him, and again he could not read her expression, for a + light burned in her eyes that made them impenetrable to him,—a light + that seemed pitilessly to search out and reveal the dark places and the + weak places within him which he himself had not known were there. Could + there be another standard by which men and women were measured and judged? + </p> + <p> + Mr. Flint snapped his fingers, and turned and began to pace the room. + </p> + <p> + “It's all pretty clear,” he said; “there's no use going into it any + farther. You believe, with the rest of them, that I'm a criminal and + deserve the penitentiary. I don't care a straw about the others,” he + cried, snapping his fingers again. “And I suppose, if I'd had any sense, I + might have expected it from you, too, Victoria—though you are my + daughter.” + </p> + <p> + He was aware that her eyes followed him. + </p> + <p> + “How many times have you spoken with Austen Vane?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “Once,” he exclaimed; “that was enough. Once.” + </p> + <p> + “And he gave you the impression,” she continued slowly, “that he was + deceitful, and dishonourable, and a coward? a man who would say things + behind your back that he dared not say to your face? who desired reward + for himself at any price, and in any manner? a man who would enter your + house and seek out your daughter and secretly assail your character?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Flint stopped in the middle of the floor. + </p> + <p> + “And you tell me he has not done these things?” + </p> + <p> + “Suppose I did tell you so,” said Victoria, “would you believe me? I have + no reason to think that you would. I am your daughter, I have been your + most intimate companion, and I had the right to think that you should have + formed some estimate of my character. Suppose I told you that Austen Vane + has avoided me, that he would not utter a word against you or in favour of + himself? Suppose I told you that I, your daughter, thought there might be + two sides to the political question that is agitating you, and wished in + fairness to hear the other side, as I intended to tell you when you were + less busy? Suppose I told you that Austen Vane was the soul of honour, + that he saw your side and presented it as ably as you have presented it? + that he had refrained in many matters which might have been of advantage + to him—although I did not hear of them from him—on account of + his father? Would you believe me?” + </p> + <p> + “And suppose I told you,” cried Mr. Flint—so firmly fastened on him + was the long habit of years of talking another down, “suppose I told you + that this was the most astute and the craftiest course he could take? I've + always credited him with brains. Suppose I told you that he was intriguing + now, as he has been all along, to obtain the nomination for the + governorship? Would you believe me?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” answered Victoria, quietly. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Flint went to the lamp, unrolled the ball of telegrams, seized one and + crossed the room quickly, and held it out to her. His hand shook a little. + </p> + <p> + “Read that!” he said. + </p> + <p> + She read it: “Estimate that more than half of delegates from this section + pledged to Henderson will go to Austen Vane when signal is given in + convention. Am told on credible authority same is true of other sections, + including many of Hunt's men and Crewe's. This is the result of quiet but + persistent political work I spoke about. BILLINGS.” + </p> + <p> + She handed the telegram back to her father in silence. “Do you believe it + now?” he demanded exultantly. + </p> + <p> + “Who is the man whose name is signed to that message?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Flint eyed her narrowly. + </p> + <p> + “What difference does that make?” he demanded. + </p> + <p> + “None,” said Victoria. But a vision of Mr. Billings rose before her. He + had been pointed out to her as the man who had opposed Austen in the + Meader suit. “If the bishop of the diocese signed it, I would not believe + that Austen Vane had anything to do with the matter.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, you defend him!” cried Mr. Flint. “I thought so—I thought so. I + take off my hat to him, he is a cleverer man even than I. His own father, + whom he has ruined, comes up here and defends him.” + </p> + <p> + “Does Hilary Vane defend him?” Victoria asked curiously. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Mr. Flint, beside himself; “incredible as it may seem, he + does. I have Austen Vane to thank for still another favour—he is + responsible for Hilary's condition to-day. He has broken him down—he + has made him an imbecile. The convention is scarcely thirty-six hours off, + and Hilary is about as fit to handle it as—as Eben Fitch. Hilary, + who never failed me in his life!” + </p> + <p> + Victoria did not speak for a moment, and then she reached out her hand + quickly and laid it on his that still held the telegram. A lounge stood on + one side of the fireplace, and she drew him gently to it, and he sat down + at her side. His acquiescence to her was a second nature, and he was once + more bewildered. His anger now seemed to have had no effect upon her + whatever. + </p> + <p> + “I waited up to tell you about Hilary Vane, father,” she said gently. “He + has had a stroke, which I am afraid is serious.” + </p> + <p> + “A stroke!” cried Mr. Flint, “Why didn't you tell me? How do you know?” + </p> + <p> + Victoria related how she had found Hilary coming away from Fairview, and + what she had done, and the word Dr. Tredway had sent. + </p> + <p> + “Good God!” cried Mr. Flint, “he won't be able to go to the convention!” + And he rose and pressed the electric button. “Towers,” he said, when the + butler appeared, “is Mr. Freeman still in my room? Tell him to telephone + to Ripton at once and find out how Mr. Hilary Vane is. They'll have to + send a messenger. That accounts for it,” he went on, rather to himself + than to Victoria, and he began to pace the room once more; “he looked like + a sick man when he was here. And who have we got to put in his place? Not + a soul!” + </p> + <p> + He paced awhile in silence. He appeared to have forgotten Victoria. + </p> + <p> + “Poor Hilary!” he said again, “poor Hilary! I'll go down there the first + thing in the morning.” + </p> + <p> + Another silence, and then Mr. Freeman, the secretary, entered. + </p> + <p> + “I telephoned to Dr. Tredway's, Mr. Flint. I thought that would be + quickest. Mr. Vane has left home. They don't know where he's gone.” + </p> + <p> + “Left home! It's impossible!” and he glanced at Victoria, who had risen to + her feet. “There must be some mistake.” + </p> + <p> + “No, sir. First I got the doctor, who said that Mr. Vane was gone—at + the risk of his life. And then I talked to Mr. Austen Vane himself, who + was there consulting with the doctor. It appears that Mr. Hilary Vane had + left home by eight o'clock, when Mr. Austen Vane got there.” + </p> + <p> + “Hilary's gone out of his head,” exclaimed Mr. Flint. “This thing has + unhinged him. Here, take these telegrams. No, wait a minute, I'll go out + there. Call up Billings, and see if you can get Senator Whitredge.” + </p> + <p> + He started out of the room, halted, and turned his head and hesitated. + </p> + <p> + “Father,” said Victoria, “I don't think Hilary Vane is out of his mind.” + </p> + <p> + “You don't?” he said quickly. “Why?” + </p> + <p> + By some unaccountable change in the atmosphere, of which Mr. Flint was + unconscious, his normal relation to his daughter had been suddenly + reestablished. He was giving ear, as usual, to her judgment. + </p> + <p> + “Did Hilary Vane tell you he would go to the convention?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” In spite of himself, he had given the word an apologetic + inflection. + </p> + <p> + “Then he has gone already,” she said. “I think, if you will telephone a + little later to the State capital, you will find that he is in his room at + the Pelican Hotel.” + </p> + <p> + “By thunder, Victoria!” he ejaculated, “you may be right. It would be like + him.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0027" id="link2HCH0027"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXVII. THE ARENA AND THE DUST + </h2> + <p> + Alas! that the great genius who described the battle of Waterloo is not + alive to-day and on this side of the Atlantic, for a subject worthy of his + pen is at hand,—nothing less than that convention of conventions at + which the Honourable Humphrey Crewe of Leith is one of the candidates. One + of the candidates, indeed! Will it not be known, as long as there are + pensions, and a governor and a state-house and a seal and State + sovereignty and a staff, as the Crewe Convention? How charge after charge + was made during the long, hot day and into the night; how the delegates + were carried out limp and speechless and starved and wet through, and + carried in to vote again,—will all be told in time. But let us begin + at the beginning, which is the day before. + </p> + <p> + But look! it is afternoon, and the candidates are arriving at the Pelican. + The Honourable Adam B. Hunt is the first, and walks up the hill from the + station escorted by such prominent figures as the Honourables Brush Bascom + and Jacob Botcher, and surrounded by enthusiastic supporters who wear + buttons with the image of their leader—goatee and all—and the + singularly prophetic superscription, 'To the Last Ditch!' Only veterans + and experts like Mr. Bascom and Mr. Botcher can recognize the last ditch + when they see it. + </p> + <p> + Another stir in the street—occasioned by the appearance of the + Honourable Giles Henderson,—of the blameless life. Utter a syllable + against him if you can! These words should be inscribed on his buttons if + he had any—but he has none. They seem to be, unuttered, on the + tongues of the gentlemen who escort the Honourable Giles, United States + Senator Greene and the Honourable Elisha Jane, who has obtained leave of + absence from his consular post to attend the convention,—and + incidentally to help prepare for it. + </p> + <p> + But who and what is this? The warlike blast of a siren horn is heard, the + crowd in the lobby rushes to the doors, people up-stairs fly to the + windows, and the Honourable Adam B. Hunt leans out and nearly falls out, + but is rescued by Division Superintendent Manning of the Northeastern + Railroads, who has stepped in from Number Seven to give a little private + tug of a persuasive nature to the Honourable Adam's coat-tails. A red + Leviathan comes screaming down Main Street with a white trail of dust + behind it, smothering the occupants of vehicles which have barely + succeeded in getting out of the way, and makes a spectacular finish before + the Pelican by sliding the last fifty feet on locked rear wheels. + </p> + <p> + A group in the street raises a cheer. It is the People's Champion! Dust + coat, gauntlets, goggles, cannot hide him; and if they did, some one would + recognize that voice, familiar now and endeared to many, and so suited to + command:—“Get that baggage off, and don't waste any time! Jump out, + Watling—that handle turns the other way. Well, Tooting, are the + headquarters ready? What was the matter that I couldn't get you on the + telephone?” (To the crowd.) “Don't push in and scratch the paint. He's + going to back out in a minute, and somebody'll get hurt.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Hamilton Tooting (Colonel Hamilton Tooting that is to be—it + being an open secret that he is destined for the staff) is standing + hatless on the sidewalk ready to receive the great man. The crowd in the + rotunda makes a lane, and Mr. Crewe, glancing neither to the right nor + left, walks upstairs; and scarce is he installed in the bridal suite, + surrounded by his faithful workers for reform, than that amazing reception + begins. Mr. Hamilton Tooting, looking the very soul of hospitality, stands + by the doorway with an open box of cigars in his left hand, pressing them + upon the visitors with his right. Reform, contrary to the preconceived + opinion of many, is not made of icicles, nor answers with a stone a + request for bread. As the hours run on, the visitors grow more and more + numerous, and after supper the room is packed to suffocation, and a long + line is waiting in the corridor, marshalled and kept in good humour by + able lieutenants; while Mr. Crewe is dimly to be perceived through clouds + of incense burning in his honour—and incidentally at his expense—with + a welcoming smile and an appropriate word for each caller, whose waistcoat + pockets, when they emerge, resemble cartridge-belts of cigars. + </p> + <p> + More cigars were hastily sent for, and more. There are to be but a + thousand delegates to the convention, and at least two thousand men have + already passed through the room—and those who don't smoke have + friends. It is well that Mr. Crewe has stuck to his conservative habit of + not squeezing hands too hard. + </p> + <p> + “Isn't that Mr. Putter, who keeps a livery-stable here?” inquired Mr. + Crewe, about nine o'clock—our candidate having a piercing eye of his + own. Mr. Putter's coat, being brushed back, has revealed six cigars. + </p> + <p> + “Why, yes—yes,” says Mr. Watling. + </p> + <p> + “Is he a delegate?” Mr. Crewe demanded. + </p> + <p> + “Why, I guess he must be,” says Mr. Watling. + </p> + <p> + But Mr. Putter is not a delegate. + </p> + <p> + “You've stood up and made a grand fight, Mr. Crewe,” says another + gentleman, a little later, with a bland, smooth shaven face and strong + teeth to clinch Mr. Crewe's cigars. “I wish I was fixed so as I could vote + for you.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Crewe looks at him narrowly. + </p> + <p> + “You look very much like a travelling man from New York, who tried to sell + me farm machinery,” he answers. + </p> + <p> + “Where are you from?” + </p> + <p> + “You ain't exactly what they call a tyro, are you?” says the bland-faced + man; “but I guess you've missed the mark this shot. Well, so long.” + </p> + <p> + “Hold on!” says Mr. Crewe, “Watling will talk to you.” + </p> + <p> + And, as the gentleman follows Mr. Wailing through the press, a pamphlet + drops from his pocket to the floor. It is marked 'Catalogue of the Raines + Farm Implement Company.' Mr. Watling picks it up and hands it to the + gentleman, who winks again. + </p> + <p> + “Tim,” he says, “where can we sit down? How much are you getting out of + this? Brush and Jake Botcher are bidding high down-stairs, and the + quotation on delegates has gone up ten points in ten minutes. It's mighty + good of you to remember old friends, Tim, even if they're not delegates.” + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile Mr. Crewe is graciously receiving others who are crowding to + him. + </p> + <p> + “How are you, Mr. Giddings? How are the cows? I carry some stock that'll + make you sit up—I believe I told you when I was down your way. Of + course, mine cost a little money, but that's one of my hobbies. Come and + see 'em some day. There's a good hotel in Ripton, and I'll have you met + there and drive you back.” + </p> + <p> + Thus, with a genial and kindly remark to each, he passes from one to the + other, and when the members of the press come to him for his estimate of + the outcome on the morrow, he treats them with the same courtly + consideration. + </p> + <p> + “Estimate!” cries Mr. Crewe. “Where have your eyes been to-night, my + friends? Have you seen the people coming into these headquarters? Have you + seen 'em pouring into any other headquarters? All the State and federal + office-holders in the country couldn't stop me now. Estimate! I'll be + nominated on the first ballot.” + </p> + <p> + They wrote it down. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, Mr. Crewe,” they said; “that's the kind of talk we like to + hear.” + </p> + <p> + “And don't forget,” said Mr. Crewe, “to mention this reception in the + accounts.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Tooting, who makes it a point from time to time to reconnoitre, + saunters halfway down-stairs and surveys the crowded rotunda from the + landing. Through the blue medium produced by the burning of many cigars + (mostly Mr. Crewe's) he takes note of the burly form of Mr. Thomas Gaylord + beside that of Mr. Redbrook and other rural figures; he takes note of a + quiet corner with a ring of chairs surrounded by scouts and outposts, + although it requires a trained eye such as Mr. Tooting's to recognize them + as such—for they wear no uniforms. They are, in truth, minor + captains of the feudal system, and their present duties consist (as Mr. + Tooting sees clearly) in preventing the innocent and inquisitive from + unprofitable speech with the Honourable Jacob Botcher, who sits in the + inner angle conversing cordially with those who are singled out for this + honour. Still other scouts conduct some of the gentlemen who have talked + with Mr. Botcher up the stairs to a mysterious room on the second floor. + Mr. Tooting discovers that the room is occupied by the Honourable Brush + Bascom; Mr. Tooting learns with indignation that certain of these guests + of Mr. Bascom's are delegates pledged to Mr. Crewe, whereupon he rushes + back to the bridal suite to report to his chief. The cigars are giving out + again, and the rush has slackened, and he detaches the People's Champion + from the line and draws him to the inner room. + </p> + <p> + “Brush Bascom's conducting a bourse on the second floor and is running the + price up right along,” cried the honest and indignant Mr. Tooting. “He's + stringin' Adam Hunt all right. They say he's got Adam to cough up six + thousand extra since five o'clock, but the question is—ain't he + stringin' us? He paid six hundred for a block of ten not quarter of an + hour ago—and nine of 'em were our delegates.” + </p> + <p> + It must be remembered that these are Mr. Tooting's words, and Mr. Crewe + evidently treated them as the product of that gentleman's vivid + imagination. Translated, they meant that the Honourable Adam B. Hunt has + no chance for the nomination, but that the crafty Messrs. Botcher and + Bascom are inducing him to think that he has—by making a supreme + effort. The supreme effort is represented by six thousand dollars. + </p> + <p> + “Are you going to lie down under that?” Mr. Tooting demanded, forgetting + himself in his zeal for reform and Mr. Crewe. But Mr. Tooting, in some + alarm, perceived the eye of his chief growing virtuous and glassy. + </p> + <p> + “I guess I know when I'm strung, as you call it, Mr. Tooting,” he replied + severely. “This cigar bill alone is enough to support a large family for + several months.” + </p> + <p> + And with this merited reproof he turned on his heel and went back to his + admirers without, leaving Mr. Tooting aghast, but still resourceful. Ten + minutes later that gentleman was engaged in a private conversation with + his colleague, the Honourable Timothy Wading. + </p> + <p> + “He's up on his hind legs at last,” said Mr. Tooting; “it looks as if he + was catching on.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Wading evidently grasped these mysterious words, for he looked grave. + </p> + <p> + “He thinks he's got the nomination cinched, don't he?” + </p> + <p> + “That's the worst of it,” cried Mr. Tooting. + </p> + <p> + “I'll see what I can do,” said the Honourable Tim. “He's always talking + about thorough, let him do it thorough.” And Mr. Watling winked. + </p> + <p> + “Thorough,” repeated Mr. Tooting, delightedly. + </p> + <p> + “That's it—Colonel,” said Mr. Watling. “Have you ordered your + uniform yet, Ham?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Tooting plainly appreciated this joke, for he grinned. + </p> + <p> + “I guess you won't starve if you don't get that commissionership, Tim,” he + retorted. + </p> + <p> + “And I guess,” returned Mr. Watling, “that you won't go naked if you don't + have a uniform.” + </p> + <p> + Victoria's surmise was true. At ten o'clock at night, two days before the + convention, a tall figure had appeared in the empty rotunda of the + Pelican, startling the clerk out of a doze. He rubbed his eyes and stared, + recognized Hilary Vane, and yet failed to recognize him. It was an + extraordinary occasion indeed which would cause Mr. McAvoy to lose his + aplomb; to neglect to seize the pen and dip it, with a flourish, into the + ink, and extend its handle towards the important guest; to omit a few + fitting words of welcome. It was Hilary who got the pen first, and wrote + his name in silence, and by this time Mr. McAvoy had recovered his + presence of mind sufficiently to wield the blotter. + </p> + <p> + “We didn't expect you to-night, Mr. Vane,” he said, in a voice that + sounded strange to him, “but we've kept Number Seven, as usual. Front!” + </p> + <p> + “The old man's seen his day, I guess,” Mr. McAvoy remarked, as he studied + the register with a lone reporter. “This Crewe must have got in on 'em + hard, from what they tell me, and Adam Hunt has his dander up.” + </p> + <p> + The next morning at ten o'clock, while the workmen were still tacking down + the fireproof carpets in headquarters upstairs, and before even the + advance guard of the armies had begun to arrive, the eye of the clerk was + caught by a tall young man rapidly approaching the desk. + </p> + <p> + “Is Mr. Hilary Vane here?” + </p> + <p> + “He's in Number Seven,” said Mr. McAvoy, who was cudgelling his brains. + “Give me your card, and I'll send it up.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll go up,” said the caller, turning on his heel and suiting the action + to the word, leaving Mr. McAvoy to make active but futile inquiries among + the few travelling men and reporters seated about. + </p> + <p> + “Well, if you fellers don't know him, I give up,” said the clerk, + irritably, “but he looks as if he ought to be somebody. He knows his + business, anyway.” + </p> + <p> + In the meantime Mr. Vane's caller had reached the first floor; he + hesitated just a moment before knocking at the door of Number Seven, and + the Honourable Hilary's voice responded. The door opened. + </p> + <p> + Hilary was seated, as usual, beside the marble-topped table, which was + covered with newspapers and memoranda. In the room were Mr. Ridout, the + capital lawyer, and Mr. Manning, the division superintendent. There was an + instant of surprised silence on the part of the three, but the Honourable + Hilary was the only one who remained expressionless. + </p> + <p> + “If you don't mind, gentlemen,” said the visitor, “I should like to talk + to my father for a few minutes.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, certainly, Austen,” Mr. Ridout replied, with an attempt at + heartiness. Further words seemed to fail him, and he left the room + somewhat awkwardly, followed by Mr. Manning; but the Honourable Hilary + appeared to take no notice of this proceeding. + </p> + <p> + “Judge,” said Austen, when the door had closed behind them, “I won't keep + you long. I didn't come down here to plead with you to abandon what you + believe to be your duty, because I know that would be useless. I have had + a talk with Dr. Tredway,” he added gently, “and I realize that you are + risking your life. If I could take you back to Ripton I would, but I know + that I cannot. I see your point of view, and if I were in your place I + should do the same thing. I only wanted to tell you this—” Austen's + voice caught a little, “if—anything should happen, I shall be at + Mrs. Peasley's on Maple Street, opposite the Duncan house.” He laid his + hand for an instant, in the old familiar way, on Hilary's shoulder, and + looked down into the older man's face. It may have been that Hilary's lips + trembled a little. “I—I'll see you later, Judge, when it's all over. + Good luck to you.” + </p> + <p> + He turned slowly, went to the door and opened it, gave one glance at the + motionless figure in the chair, and went out. He did not hear the voice + that called his name, for the door had shut. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Ridout and Mr. Manning were talking together in low tones at the head + of the stairs. It was the lawyer who accosted Austen. + </p> + <p> + “The old gentleman don't seem to be quite himself, Austen. Don't seem + well. You ought to hold him in he can't work as hard as he used to.” + </p> + <p> + “I think you'll find, Mr. Ridout,” answered Austen, deliberately, “that + he'll perform what's required of him with his usual efficiency.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Ridout followed Austen's figure with his eyes until he was hidden by a + turn of the stairs. Then he whistled. + </p> + <p> + “I can't make that fellow out,” he exclaimed. “Never could. All I know is + that if Hilary Vane pulls us through this mess, in the shape he's in, + it'll be a miracle. + </p> + <p> + “His mind seems sound enough to-day—but he's lost his grip, I tell + you. I don't wonder Flint's beside himself. Here's Adam Hunt with both + feet in the trough, and no more chance of the nomination than I have, and + Bascom and Botcher teasing him on, and he's got enough votes with Crewe to + lock up that convention for a dark horse. And who's the dark horse?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Manning, who was a silent man, pointed with his thumb in the direction + Austen had taken. + </p> + <p> + “Hilary Vane's own son,” said Mr. Ridout, voicing the gesture; “they tell + me that Tom Gaylord's done some pretty slick work. Now I leave it to you, + Manning, if that isn't a mess!” + </p> + <p> + At this moment the conversation was interrupted by the appearance on the + stairway of the impressive form of United States Senator Whitredge, + followed by a hall boy carrying the senatorial gripsack. The senator's + face wore a look of concern which could not possibly be misinterpreted. + </p> + <p> + “How's Hilary?” were his first words. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Ridout and Mr. Manning glanced at each other. + </p> + <p> + “He's in Number Seven; you'd better take a look at him, Senator.” + </p> + <p> + The senator drew breath, directed that his grip be put in the room where + he was to repose that night, produced an amber cigar-holder from a case, + and a cigar from his waistcoat pocket. + </p> + <p> + “I thought I'd better come down early,” he said, “things aren't going just + as they should, and that's the truth. In fact,” he added, significantly + tapping his pocket, “I've got a letter from Mr. Flint to Hilary which I + may have to use. You understand me.” + </p> + <p> + “I guessed as much,” said Mr. Ridout. + </p> + <p> + “Ahem! I saw young Vane going out of the hotel just now,” the senator + remarked. “I am told, on pretty good authority, that under certain + circumstances, which I must confess seem not unlikely at present, he may + be a candidate for the nomination. The fact that he is in town tends to + make the circumstance more probable.” + </p> + <p> + “He's just been in to see Hilary,” said Mr. Ridout. + </p> + <p> + “You don't tell me!” said the senator, pausing as he lighted his cigar; “I + was under the impression that they were not on speaking terms.” + </p> + <p> + “They've evidently got together now, that—” said Mr. Ridout. “I + wonder how old Hilary would feel about it. We couldn't do much with Austen + Vane if he was governor—that's a sure thing.” + </p> + <p> + The senator pondered a moment. + </p> + <p> + “It's been badly managed,” he muttered; “there's no doubt of that. Hunt + must be got out of the way. When Bascom and Botcher come, tell them I want + to see them in my room, not in Number Seven.” + </p> + <p> + And with this impressive command, received with nods of understanding, + Senator Whitredge advanced slowly towards Number Seven, knocked, and + entered. Be it known that Mr. Flint, with characteristic caution, had not + confided even to the senator that the Honourable Hilary had had a stroke. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, Vane,” he said, in his most affable tones, “how are you?” + </p> + <p> + The Honourable Hilary, who was looking over some papers, shot at him a + glance from under his shaggy eyebrows. + </p> + <p> + “Came in here to find out—didn't you, Whitredge?” he replied. + </p> + <p> + “What?” said the senator, taken aback; and for once at a loss for words. + </p> + <p> + The Honourable Hilary rose and stood straighter than usual, and looked the + senator in the eye. + </p> + <p> + “What's your diagnosis?” he asked. “Superannuated—unfit for duty—unable + to cope with the situation ready to be superseded? Is that about it?” + </p> + <p> + To say that Senator Whitredge was startled and uncomfortable would be to + put his case mildly. He had never before seen Mr. Vane in this mood. + </p> + <p> + “Ha-ha!” he laughed; “the years are coming over us a little, aren't they? + But I guess it isn't quite time for the youngsters to step in yet.” + </p> + <p> + “No, Whitredge,” said Mr. Vane, slowly, without taking his eye from the + senator's, “and it won't be until this convention is over. Do you + understand?” + </p> + <p> + “That's the first good news I've heard this morning,” said the senator, + with the uneasy feeling that, in some miraculous way, the Honourable + Hilary had read the superseding orders from highest authority through his + pocket. + </p> + <p> + “You may take it as good news or bad news, as you please, but it's a fact. + And now I want 'YOU' to tell Ridout that I wish to see him again, and to + bring in Doby, who is to be chairman of the convention.” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly,” assented the senator, with alacrity, as he started for the + door. Then he turned. “I'm glad to see you're all right, Vane,” he added; + “I'd heard that you were a little under the weather—a bilious attack + on account of the heat—that's all I meant.” He did not wait for an + answer, nor would he have got one. And he found Mr. Ridout in the hall. + </p> + <p> + “Well?” said the lawyer, expectantly, and looking with some curiosity at + the senator's face. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said Mr. Whitredge, with marked impatience, “he wants to see you + right away.” + </p> + <p> + All day long Hilary Vane held conference in Number Seven, and at six + o'clock sent a request that the Honourable Adam visit him. The Honourable + Adam would not come; and the fact leaked out—through the Honourable + Adam. + </p> + <p> + “He's mad clean through,” reported the Honourable Elisha Jane, to whose + tact and diplomacy the mission had been confided. “He said he would teach + Flint a lesson. He'd show him he couldn't throw away a man as useful and + efficient as he'd been, like a sucked orange.” + </p> + <p> + “Humph! A sucked orange. That's what he said, is it? A sucked orange,” + Hilary repeated. + </p> + <p> + “That's what he said,” declared Mr. Jane, and remembered afterwards how + Hilary had been struck by the simile. + </p> + <p> + At ten o'clock at night, at the very height of the tumult, Senator + Whitredge had received an interrogatory telegram from Fairview, and had + called a private conference (in which Hilary was not included) in a back + room on the second floor (where the conflicting bands of Mr. Crewe and Mr. + Hunt could not be heard), which Mr. Manning and Mr. Jane and State Senator + Billings and Mr. Ridout attended. Query: the Honourable Hilary had + quarrelled with Mr. Flint, that was an open secret; did not Mr. Vane think + himself justified, from his own point of view, in taking a singular + revenge in not over-exerting himself to pull the Honourable Adam out, + thereby leaving the field open for his son, Austen Vane, with whom he was + apparently reconciled? Not that Mr. Flint had hinted of such a thing! He + had, in the telegram, merely urged the senator himself to see Mr. Hunt, + and to make one more attempt to restrain the loyalty to that candidate of + Messrs. Bascom and Botcher. + </p> + <p> + The senator made the attempt, and failed signally. + </p> + <p> + It was half-past midnight by the shining face of the clock on the tower of + the state-house, and hope flamed high in the bosom of the Honourable Adam + B. Hunt a tribute to the bellows-like skill of Messrs. Bascom and Botcher. + The bands in the street had blown themselves out, the delegates were at + last seeking rest, the hall boys in the corridors were turning down the + lights, and the Honourable Adam, in a complacent and even jubilant frame + of mind, had put on his carpet slippers and taken off his coat, when there + came a knock at his door. He was not a little amazed and embarrassed, upon + opening it, to see the Honourable Hilary. But these feelings gave place + almost immediately to a sense of triumph; gone were the days when he had + to report to Number Seven. Number Seven, in the person of Hilary (who was + Number Seven), had been forced to come to him! + </p> + <p> + “Well, upon my soul!” he exclaimed heartily. “Come in, Hilary.” + </p> + <p> + He turned up the jets of the chandelier, and gazed at his friend, and was + silent. + </p> + <p> + “Have a seat, Hilary,” he said, pushing up an armchair. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Vane sat down. Mr. Hunt took a seat opposite, and waited for his + visitor to speak. He himself seemed to find no words. + </p> + <p> + “Adam,” said Mr. Vane, at length, “we've known each other for a good many + years.” + </p> + <p> + “That's so, Hilary. That's so,” Mr. Hunt eagerly assented. What was + coming? + </p> + <p> + “And whatever harm I've done in my life,” Hilary continued, “I've always + tried to keep my word. I told you, when we met up there by the mill this + summer, that if Mr. Flint had consulted me about your candidacy, before + seeing you in New York, I shouldn't have advised it—this time.” + </p> + <p> + The Honourable Adam's face stiffened. + </p> + <p> + “That's what you said. But—” + </p> + <p> + “And I meant it,” Mr. Vane interrupted. “I was never pledged to your + candidacy, as a citizen. I've been thinking over my situation some, this + summer, and I'll tell you in so many plain words what it is. I guess you + know—I guess everybody knows who's thought about it. I deceived + myself for a long time by believing that I earned my living as the + attorney for the Northeastern Railroads. I've drawn up some pretty good + papers for them, and I've won some pretty difficult suits. I'm not proud + of 'em all, but let that go. Do you know what I am?” + </p> + <p> + The Honourable Adam was capable only of a startled ejaculation. Was Hilary + Vane in his right senses? + </p> + <p> + “I'm merely their paid political tool,” Mr. Vane continued, in the same + tone. “I've sold them my brain, and my right of opinion as a citizen. I + wanted to make this clear to you first of all. Not that you didn't know + it, but I wished you to know that I know it. When Mr. Flint said that you + were to be the Republican nominee, my business was to work to get you + elected, which I did. And when it became apparent that you couldn't be + nominated—” + </p> + <p> + “Hold on!” cried the Honourable Adam. + </p> + <p> + “Please wait until I have finished. When it became apparent that you + couldn't be nominated, Mr. Flint sent me to try to get you to withdraw, + and he decreed that the new candidate should pay your expenses up to date. + I failed in that mission.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't blame you, Hilary,” exclaimed Mr. Hunt. “I told you so at the + time. But I guess I'll soon be in a position where I can make Flint walk + the tracks—his own tracks.” + </p> + <p> + “Adam,” said Mr. Vane, “it is because I deserve as much of the blame as + Mr. Flint that I am here.” + </p> + <p> + Again Mr. Hunt was speechless. The Honourable Hilary Vane in an apologetic + mood! A surmise flashed into the brain of the Honourable Adam, and + sparkled there. The Honourable Giles Henderson was prepared to withdraw, + and Hilary had come, by authority, to see if he would pay the Honourable + Giles' campaign expenses. Well, he could snap his fingers at that. + </p> + <p> + “Flint has treated me like a dog,” he declared. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Flint never pretended,” answered Mr. Vane, coldly, “that the + nomination and election of a governor was anything but a business + transaction. His regard for you is probably unchanged, but the interests + he has at stake are too large to admit of sentiment as a factor.” + </p> + <p> + “Exactly,” exclaimed Mr. Hunt. “And I hear he hasn't treated you just + right, Hilary. I understand—” + </p> + <p> + Hilary's eyes flashed for the first time. + </p> + <p> + “Never mind that, Adam,” he said quietly; “I've been treated as I deserve. + I have nothing whatever to complain of from Mr. Flint. I will tell you why + I came here to-night. I haven't felt right about you since that interview, + and the situation to-night is practically what it was then. You can't be + nominated.” + </p> + <p> + “Can't be nominated!” gasped Mr. Hunt. And he reached to the table for his + figures. “I'll have four hundred on the first ballot, and I've got two + hundred and fifty more pledged to me as second choice. If you've come up + here at this time of night to try to deceive me on that, you might as well + go back and wire Flint it's no use. Why, I can name the delegates, if + you'll listen.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Vane shook his head sadly. And, confident as he was, the movement sent + a cold chill down the Honourable Adam's spine, for faith in Mr. Vane's + judgment had become almost a second nature. He had to force himself to + remember that this was not the old Hilary. + </p> + <p> + “You won't have three hundred, Adam, at any time,” answered Mr. Vane. + “Once you used to believe what I said, and if you won't now, you won't. + But I can't go away without telling you what I came for.” + </p> + <p> + “What's that?” demanded Mr. Hunt, wonderingly. + </p> + <p> + “It's this,” replied Hilary, with more force than he had yet shown. “You + can't get that nomination. If you'll let me know what your campaign + expenses have been up to date,—all of 'em, you understand, to-night + too,—I'll give you a check for them within the next two weeks.” + </p> + <p> + “Who makes this offer?” demanded Mr. Hunt, with more curiosity than alarm; + “Mr. Flint?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Hilary; “Mr. Flint does not use the road's funds for such + purposes.” + </p> + <p> + “Henderson?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Hilary; “I can't see what difference it makes to you.” + </p> + <p> + The Honourable Adam had an eminently human side, and he laid his hand on + Mr. Vane's knee. + </p> + <p> + “I think I've got a notion as to where that money would come from, + Hilary,” he said. “I'm much obliged to you, my friend. I wouldn't take it + even if I thought you'd sized up the situation right. But—I don't + agree with you this time. I know I've got the nomination. And I want to + say once more, that I think you're a square man, and I don't hold anything + against you.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Vane rose. + </p> + <p> + “I'm sorry, Adam,” he said; “my offer holds good after to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + “After to-morrow!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said the Honourable Hilary. “I don't feel right about this thing. + Er—good night, Adam.” + </p> + <p> + “Hold on!” cried Mr. Hunt, as a new phase of the matter struck him. “Why, + if I got out—” + </p> + <p> + “What then?” said Mr. Vane, turning around. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I won't get out,” said Mr. Hunt, “but if I did,—why, there + wouldn't, according to your way of thinking, be any chance for a dark + horse.” + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean?” demanded Mr. Vane. + </p> + <p> + “Now don't get mad, Hilary. I guess, and you know, that Flint hasn't + treated you decently this summer after all you've done for him, and I + admire the way you're standing by him. I wouldn't do it. I just wanted to + say,” Mr. Hunt added slowly, “that I respect you all the more for trying + to get me out. If—always according to your notion of the convention—if + I don't get out, and haven't any chance, they tell me on pretty good + authority Austen Vane will get the nomination.” + </p> + <p> + Hilary Vane walked to the door, opened it and went out, and slammed it + behind him. + </p> + <p> + It is morning,—a hot morning, as so many recall,—and the + partisans of the three leaders are early astir, and at seven-thirty Mr. + Tooting discovers something going on briskly which he terms “dealing in + futures.” My vote is yours as long as you are in the race, but after that + I have something negotiable. The Honourable Adam Hunt strolls into the + rotunda after an early breakfast, with a toothpick in his mouth, and is + pointed out by the sophisticated to new arrivals as the man who spent + seven thousand dollars over night, much of which is said to have stuck in + the pockets of two feudal chiefs who could be named. Is it possible that + there is a split in the feudal system at last? that the two feudal chiefs + (who could be named) are rebels against highest authority? A smile from + the sophisticated one. This duke and baron have merely stopped to pluck a + bird; it matters not whether or not the bird is an erstwhile friend—he + has been outlawed by highest authority, and is fair game. The bird (with + the toothpick in his mouth) creates a smile from other chiefs of the + system in good standing who are not too busy to look at him. They have + ceased all attempts to buttonhole him, for he is unapproachable. + </p> + <p> + The other bird, the rebel of Leith, who has never been in the feudal + system at all, they have stopped laughing at. It is he who has brought the + Empire to its most precarious state. + </p> + <p> + And now, while strangers from near and far throng into town, drawn by the + sensational struggle which is to culminate in battle to-day, Mr. Crewe is + marshalling his forces. All the delegates who can be collected, and who + wear the button with the likeness and superscription of Humphrey Crewe, + are drawn up beside the monument in the park, where the Ripton Band is + stationed; and presently they are seen by cheering crowds marching to + martial music towards the convention hall, where they collect in a body, + with signs and streamers in praise of the People's Champion well to the + front and centre. This is generally regarded as a piece of consummate + general ship on the part of their leader. They are applauded from the + galleries,—already packed,—especially from one conspicuous end + where sit that company of ladies (now so famed) whose efforts have so + materially aided the cause of the People's Champion. Gay streamers vie + with gayer gowns, and morning papers on the morrow will have something to + say about the fashionable element and the special car which brought them + from Leith. + </p> + <p> + “My, but it is hot!” + </p> + <p> + The hall is filled now, with the thousand delegates, or their + representatives who are fortunate enough to possess their credentials. + Something of this matter later. General Doby, chairman of the convention, + an impressive but mournful figure, could not call a roll if he wanted to. + Not that he will want to! Impossible to tell, by the convenient laws of + the State, whether the duly elected delegates of Hull or Mercer or Truro + are here or not, since their credentials may be bought or sold or + conferred. Some political giants, who have not negotiated their + credentials, are recognized as they walk down the aisle: the statesmanlike + figure of Senator Whitredge (a cheer); that of Senator Green (not so + statesmanlike, but a cheer); Congressman Fairplay (cheers); and—Hilary + Vane! His a figure that does not inspire cheers,—least of all + to-day,—the man upon whose shoulders rests the political future of + the Northeastern. The conservative Mr. Tredways and other Lincoln radicals + of long ago who rely on his strength and judgment are not the sort to + cheer. And yet—and yet Hilary inspires some feeling when, with + stooping gait, he traverses the hall, and there is a hush in many quarters + as delegates and spectators watch his progress to the little room off the + platform: the general's room, as the initiated know. + </p> + <p> + Ah, but few know what a hateful place it is to Hilary Vane to-day, this + keyboard at which he has sat so complacently in years gone by, the envied + of conventions. He sits down wearily at the basswood table, and scarcely + hears the familiar sounds without, which indicate that the convention of + conventions has begun. Extraordinary phenomenon at such a time, scenes of + long ago and little cherished then, are stealing into his mind. + </p> + <p> + The Reverend Mr. Crane (so often chaplain of the Legislature, and known to + the irreverent as the chaplain of the Northeastern) is praying now for + guidance in the counsels of this great gathering of the people's + representatives. God will hear Mr. Botcher better if he closes his eyes; + which he does. Now the platform is being read by State Senator Billings; + closed eyes would best suit this proceeding, too. As a parallel to that + platform, one can think only of the Ten Commandments. The Republican Party + (chosen children of Israel) must be kept free from the domination of + corporations. (Cheers and banner waving for a full minute.) Some better + method of choosing delegates which will more truly reflect the will of the + people. (Plank of the Honourable Jacob Botcher, whose conscience is + awakening.) Never mind the rest. It is a triumph for Mr. Crewe, and is all + printed in that orthodox (reform) newspaper, the State Tribune, with + urgent editorials that it must be carried out to the letter. + </p> + <p> + And what now? Delegates, credential holders, audience, and the Reverend + Mr. Crane draw long breaths of heated carbon dioxide. Postmaster Burrows + of Edmundton, in rounded periods, is putting in nomination his + distinguished neighbour and fellow-citizen, the Honourable Adam B. Hunt, + who can subscribe and say amen to every plank in that platform. He + believes it, he has proclaimed it in public, and he embodies it. Mr. + Burrows indulges in slight but effective sarcasm of sham reformers and + so-called business men who perform the arduous task of cutting coupons and + live in rarefied regions where they can only be seen by the common people + when the light is turned on. (Cheers from two partisan bodies and groans + and hisses from another. General Doby, with a pained face, pounding with + the gavel. This isn't a circumstance to what's coming, General.) + </p> + <p> + After General Doby has succeeded in abating the noise in honour-of the + Honourable Adam, there is a hush of expectancy. Humphrey Crewe, who has + made all this trouble and enthusiasm, is to be nominated next, and the + Honourable Timothy Wailing of Newcastle arises to make that celebrated + oration which the cynical have called the “thousand-dollar speech.” And + even if they had named it well (which is not for a moment to be + admitted!), it is cheap for the price. How Mr. Crewe's ears must tingle as + he paces his headquarters in the Pelican! Almost would it be sacrilege to + set down cold, on paper, the words that come, burning, out of the + Honourable Timothy's loyal heart. Here, gentlemen, is a man at last, not a + mere puppet who signs his name when a citizen of New York pulls the + string; one who is prepared to make any sacrifice,—to spend his + life, if need be, in their service. (A barely audible voice, before the + cheering commences, “I guess that's so.”) Humphrey Crewe needs no defence—the + Honourable Timothy avers—at his hands, or any one's. Not merely an + idealist, but a practical man who has studied the needs of the State; + unselfish to the core; longing, like Washington, the Father of his + Country, to remain in a beautiful country home, where he dispenses + hospitality with a flowing hand to poor and rich alike, yet harking to the + call of duty. Leaving, like the noble Roman of old, his plough in the + furrow—(Same voice as before, “I wish he'd left his automobil' + thar!” Hisses and laughter.) The Honourable Timothy, undaunted, snatches + his hand from the breast of his Prince Albert and flings it, with a superb + gesture, towards the Pelican. “Gentlemen, I have the honour to nominate to + this convention that peerless leader for the right, the Honourable + Humphrey Crewe of Leith—our next governor.” + </p> + <p> + General Andrew Jackson himself, had he been alive and on this historic + ground and chairman of that convention, could scarce have quelled the + tumult aroused by this name and this speech—much less General Doby. + Although a man of presence, measurable by scales with weights enough, our + general has no more ponderosity now than a leaf in a mountain storm at + Hale—and no more control over the hurricane. Behold him now, + pounding with his gavel on something which should give forth a sound, but + doesn't. Who is he (to change the speech's figure—not the + general's), who is he to drive a wild eight-horse team, who is fit only to + conduct Mr. Flint's oxen in years gone by? + </p> + <p> + It is a memorable scene, sketched to life for the metropolitan press. The + man on the chair, his face lighted by a fanatic enthusiasm, is the + Honourable Hamilton Tooting, coatless and collarless, leading the cheers + that shake the building, that must have struck terror to the soul of + Augustus P. Flint himself—fifty miles away. But the endurance of the + human throat is limited. + </p> + <p> + Why, in the name of political strategy, has United States Senator Greene + been chosen to nominate the Honourable Giles Henderson of Kingston? Some + say that it is the will of highest authority, others that the senator is a + close friend of the Honourable Giles—buys his coal from him, + wholesale. Both surmises are true. The senator's figure is not impressive, + his voice less so, and he reads from manuscript, to the accompaniment of + continual cries of “Louder!” A hook for Leviathan! “A great deal of + dribble,” said the senator, for little rocks sometimes strike fire, “has + been heard about the 'will of the people.'” + </p> + <p> + “The Honourable Giles Henderson is beholden to no man and to no + corporation, and will go into office prepared to do justice impartially to + all.” + </p> + <p> + “Bu—copia verborum—let us to the main business!” + </p> + <p> + To an hundred newspapers, to Mr. Flint at Fairview, and other important + personages ticks out the momentous news that the balloting has begun. No + use trying to hold your breath until the first ballot is announced; it + takes time to obtain the votes of one thousand men—especially when + neither General Doby nor any one else knows who they are! The only way is + to march up on the stage by counties and file past the ballot-box. Putnam, + with their glitter-eyed duke, Mr. Bascom, at their head—presumably + solid for Adam B. Hunt; Baron Burrows, who farms out the post-office at + Edmundton, leads Edmunds County; Earl Elisha Jane, consul at some hot + place where he spends the inclement months drops the first ticket for + Haines County, ostensibly solid for home-made virtue and the Honourable + Giles. + </p> + <p> + An hour and a quarter of suspense and torture passes, while collars wilt + and coats come off, and fans in the gallery wave incessantly, and excited + conversation buzzes in every quarter. And now, see! there is whispering on + the stage among the big-bugs. Mr. Chairman Doby rises with a paper in his + hand, and the buzzing dies down to silence. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + The Honourable Giles Henderson of Kingston has..398 + The Honourable Humphrey Crewe of Leith has... 353 + The Honourable Adam B. Hunt of Edmundton has.. 249 + And a majority being required, there is no choice! +</pre> + <p> + Are the supporters of the People's Champion crest-fallen, think you? Mr. + Tooting is not leading them for the moment, but is pressing through the + crowd outside the hall and flying up the street to the Pelican and the + bridal suite, where he is first with the news. Note for an unabridged + biography: the great man is discovered sitting quietly by the window, + poring over a book on the modern science of road-building, some notes from + which he is making for his first message. And instead of the reek of + tobacco smoke, the room is filled with the scent of the floral tributes + brought down by the Ladies' Auxiliary from Leith. In Mr. Crewe's + right-hand pocket, neatly typewritten, is his speech of acceptance. He is + never caught unprepared. Unkind, now, to remind him of that prediction + made last night about the first ballot to the newspapers—and + useless. + </p> + <p> + “I told you last night they were buyin' 'em right under our noses,” cried + Mr. Tooting, in a paroxysm of indignation, “and you wouldn't believe me. + They got over one hundred and sixty away from us.” + </p> + <p> + “It strikes me, Mr. Tooting,” said Mr. Crewe, “that it was your business + to prevent that.” + </p> + <p> + There will no doubt be a discussion, when the biographer reaches this + juncture, concerning the congruity of reform delegates who can be bought. + It is too knotty a point of ethics to be dwelt upon here. + </p> + <p> + “Prevent it!” echoed Mr. Tooting, and in the strong light of the + righteousness of that eye reproaches failed him. “But there's a whole lot + of 'em can be seen, right now, while the ballots are being taken. It won't + be decided on the next ballot.” + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Tooting,” said Mr. Crewe, indubitably proving that he had the + qualities of a leader—if such proof were necessary, “go back to the + convention. I have no doubt of the outcome, but that doesn't mean you are + to relax your efforts. Do you understand?” + </p> + <p> + “I guess I do,” replied Mr. Tooting, and was gone. “He still has his flag + up,” he whispered into the Honourable Timothy Watling's ear, when he + reached the hall. “He'll stand a little more yet.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Tooting, at times, speaks a language unknown to us—and the + second ballot is going on. And during its progress the two principal + lieutenants of the People's Champion were observed going about the hall + apparently exchanging the time of day with various holders of credentials. + Mr. Jane, too, is going about the hall, and Postmaster Burrows, and + Postmaster Bill Fleeting of Brampton, and the Honourable Nat Billings, and + Messrs. Bascom and Botcher, and Mr. Manning, division superintendent, and + the Honourable Orrin Young, railroad commissioner and candidate for + reappointment—all are embracing the opportunity to greet humble + friends or to make new acquaintances. Another hour and a quarter, with the + temperature steadily rising and the carbon dioxide increasing—and + the second ballot is announced. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + The Honourable Giles Henderson of Kingston has.. 440 + The Honourable Humphrey Crewe of Leith has.... 336 + The Honourable Adam B. Hunt of Edmundton has... 255 +</pre> + <p> + And there are three votes besides improperly made out! + </p> + <p> + What the newspapers call indescribable excitement ensues. The three votes + improperly made out are said to be trip passes accidentally dropped into + the box by the supporters of the Honourable Elisha Jane. And add up the + sum total of the votes! Thirty-one votes more than there are credentials + in the hall! Mystery of mysteries how can it be? The ballot, announces + General Doby, after endless rapping, is a blank. Cheers, recriminations, + exultation, disgust of decent citizens, attempts by twenty men to get the + eye of the president (which is too watery to see any of them), and rushes + for the platform to suggest remedies or ask what is going to be done about + such palpable fraud. What can be done? Call the roll! How in blazes can + you call the roll when you don't know who's here? Messrs. Jane, Botcher, + Bascom, and Fleming are not disturbed, and improve their time. Watling and + Tooting rush to the bridal suite, and rush back again to demand justice. + General Doby mingles his tears with theirs, and somebody calls him a + jellyfish. He does not resent it. Friction makes the air hotter and hotter—Shadrach, + Meshach, and Abednego would scarce enter into this furnace,—and + General Doby has a large damp spot on his back as he pounds and pounds and + pounds until we are off again on the third ballot. No dinner, and + three-thirty P.M.! Two delegates have fainted, but the essential parts of + them—the credentials—are left behind. + </p> + <p> + Four-forty, whispering again, and the gavel drops. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + The Honourable Giles Henderson of Kingston has.. 412 + The Honourable Humphrey Crewe of Leith has... 325 + The Honourable Adam B. Hunt of Edmundton has... 250 + And there is no choice on the third ballot! +</pre> + <p> + Thirteen delegates are actually missing this time. Scour the town! And now + even the newspaper adjectives describing the scene have given out. A + persistent and terrifying rumour goes the rounds, where's Tom Gaylord? + Somebody said he was in the hall a moment ago, on a Ripton credential. If + so, he's gone out again—gone out to consult the dark horse, who is + in town, somewhere. Another ominous sign: Mr. Redbrook, Mr. Widgeon of + Hull, and the other rural delegates who have been voting for the People's + Champion, and who have not been observed in friendly conversation with + anybody at all, now have their heads together. Mr. Billings goes + sauntering by, but cannot hear what they are saying. Something must be + done, and right away, and the knowing metropolitan reporters are winking + at each other and declaring darkly that a sensation is about to turn up. + </p> + <p> + Where is Hilary Vane? Doesn't he realize the danger? Or—traitorous + thought!—doesn't he care? To see his son nominated would be a + singular revenge for the indignities which are said to have been heaped + upon him. Does Hilary Vane, the strong man of the State, merely sit at the + keyboard, powerless, while the tempest itself shakes from the organ a new + and terrible music? Nearly, six hours he has sat at the basswood table, + while senators, congressmen, feudal chiefs, and even Chairman Doby himself + flit in and out, whisper in his ear, set papers before him, and figures + and problems, and telegrams from highest authority. He merely nods his + head, says a word now and then, or holds his peace. Does he know what he's + about? If they had not heard things concerning his health,—and other + things,—they would still feel safe. He seems the only calm man to be + found in the hall—but is the calm aberration? + </p> + <p> + A conference in the corner of the platform, while the fourth ballot is + progressing, is held between Senators Whitredge and Greene, Mr. Ridout and + Mr. Manning. So far the Honourable Hilary has apparently done nothing but + let the storm take its course; a wing-footed messenger has returned who + has seen Mr. Thomas Gaylord walking rapidly up Maple Street, and Austen + Vane (most astute and reprehensible of politicians) is said to be at the + Widow Peasley's, quietly awaiting the call. The name of Austen Vane—another + messenger says—is running like wildfire through the hall, from row + to row. Mr. Crewe has no chance—so rumour goes. A reformer (to + pervert the saying of a celebrated contemporary humorist) must fight + Marquis of Queensberry to win; and the People's Champion, it is averred, + has not. Shrewd country delegates who had listened to the Champion's + speeches and had come to the capital prepared to vote for purity, had been + observing the movements since yesterday, of Mr. Tooting and Mr. Wading + with no inconsiderable interest. Now was the psychological moment for + Austen Vane, but who was to beard Hilary? + </p> + <p> + No champion was found, and the Empire, the fate of which was in the hands + of a madman, was cracking. Let an individual of character and known + anti-railroad convictions (such as the gentleman said to be at the Widow + Peasley's) be presented to the convention, and they would nominate him. + Were Messrs. Bascom and Botcher going to act the part of Samsons? Were + they working for revenge and a new regime? Mr. Whitredge started for the + Pelican, not at his ordinary senatorial gait, to get Mr. Flint on the + telephone. + </p> + <p> + The result of the fourth ballot was announced, and bedlam broke loose. + </p> + <p> + The Honourable Giles Henderson of Kingston has.. 419 The Honourable + Humphrey Crewe of Leith has.... 337 The Honourable Adam B. Hunt of + Edmundton has... 256 + </p> + <p> + Total, one thousand and eleven out of a thousand! Two delegates abstained + from voting, and proclaimed the fact, but were heard only a few feet away. + Other delegates, whose flesh and blood could stand the atmosphere no + longer, were known to have left the hall! Aha! the secret is out, if + anybody could hear it. At the end of every ballot several individuals + emerge and mix with the crowd in the street. Astute men sometimes make + mistakes, and the following conversation occurs between one of the + individuals in question and Mr. Crewe's chauffeur. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Individual: “Do you want to come in and see the convention and + vote?” + + Chauffeur: “I am Frenchman.” + + Individual: “That doesn't cut any ice. I'll make out the ballot, + and all you'll have to do is to drop it in the box.” + Chauffeur: “All right; I vote for Meester Crewe.” + </pre> + <p> + Sudden disappearance of the individual. + </p> + <p> + Nor is this all. The Duke of Putnam, for example, knows how many + credentials there are in his county—say, seventy-six. He counts the + men present and voting, and his result is sixty-one. Fifteen are absent, + getting food or—something else. Fifteen vote over again. But, as the + human brain is prone to error, and there are men in the street, the Duke + miscalculates; the Earl of Haines miscalculates, too. Result—eleven + over a thousand votes, and some nine hundred men in the hall! + </p> + <p> + How are you going to stop it? Mr. Watling climbs up on the platform and + shakes his fist in General Doby's face, and General Doby tearfully appeals + for an honest ballot—to the winds. + </p> + <p> + In the meantime the Honourable Elisha Jane, spurred on by desperation and + thoughts of a 'dolce far niente' gone forever; has sought and cornered Mr. + Bascom. + </p> + <p> + “For God's sake, Brush,” cries the Honourable Elisha, “hasn't this thing + gone far enough? A little of it is all right—the boys understand + that; but have you thought what it means to you and me if these blanked + reformers get in,—if a feller like Austen Vane is nominated?” + </p> + <p> + That cold, hard glitter which we have seen was in Mr. Bascom's eyes. + </p> + <p> + “You fellers have got the colic,” was the remark of the arch-rebel. “Do + you think old Hilary doesn't know what he's about?” + </p> + <p> + “It looks that way to me,” said Mr. Jane. + </p> + <p> + “It looks that way to Doby too, I guess,” said Mr. Bascom, with a glance + of contempt at the general; “he's lost about fifteen pounds to-day. Did + Hilary send you down here?” he demanded. + </p> + <p> + “No,” Mr. Jane confessed. + </p> + <p> + “Then go back and chase yourself around the platform some more,” was Mr. + Bascom's unfeeling advice, “and don't have a fit here. All the brains in + this hall are in Hilary's room. When he's ready to talk business with me + in behalf of the Honourable Giles Henderson, I guess he'll do so.” + </p> + <p> + But fear had entered the heart of the Honourable Elisha, and there was a + sickly feeling in the region of his stomach which even the strong medicine + administered by the Honourable Brush failed to alleviate. He perceived + Senator Whitredge, returned from the Pelican. But the advice—if any—the + president of the Northeastern has given the senator is not forthcoming in + practice. Mr. Flint, any more than Ulysses himself, cannot recall the + tempests when his own followers have slit the bags—and in sight of + Ithaca! Another conference at the back of the stage, out of which emerges + State Senator Nat Billings and gets the ear of General Doby. + </p> + <p> + “Let 'em yell,” says Mr. Billings—as though the general, by raising + one adipose hand, could quell the storm. Eyes are straining, scouts are + watching at the back of the hall and in the street, for the first glimpse + of the dreaded figure of Mr. Thomas Gaylord. “Let 'em yell;” counsels Mr. + Billings, “and if they do nominate anybody nobody'll hear 'em. And send + word to Putnam County to come along on their fifth ballot.” + </p> + <p> + It is Mr. Billings himself who sends word to Putnam County, in the name of + the convention's chairman. Before the messenger can reach Putnam County + another arrives on the stage, with wide pupils, “Tom Gaylord is coming!” + This momentous news, Marconi-like, penetrates the storm, and is already on + the floor. Mr. Widgeon and Mr. Redbrook are pushing their way towards the + door. The conference, emboldened by terror, marches in a body into the + little room, and surrounds the calmly insane Lieutenant-general of the + forces; it would be ill-natured to say that visions of lost railroad + commissionerships, lost consulships, lost postmasterships,—yes, of + lost senatorships, were in these loyal heads at this crucial time. + </p> + <p> + It was all very well (so said the first spokesman) to pluck a few feathers + from a bird so bountifully endowed as the Honourable Adam, but were not + two gentlemen who should be nameless carrying the joke a little too far? + Mr. Vane unquestionably realized what he was doing, but—was it not + almost time to call in the two gentlemen and—and come to some + understanding? + </p> + <p> + “Gentlemen,” said the Honourable Hilary, apparently unmoved, “I have not + seen Mr. Bascom or Mr. Botcher since the sixteenth day of August, and I do + not intend to.” + </p> + <p> + Some clearing of throats followed this ominous declaration,—and a + painful silence. The thing must be said and who would say it? Senator + Whitredge was the hero. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Thomas Gaylord has just entered the convention hall, and is said to be + about to nominate—a dark horse. The moment was favourable, the + convention demoralized, and at least one hundred delegates had left the + hall. (How about the last ballot, Senator, which showed 1011?) + </p> + <p> + The Honourable Hilary rose abruptly, closed the door to shut out the + noise, and turned and looked Mr. Whitredge in the eye. + </p> + <p> + “Who is the dark horse?” he demanded. + </p> + <p> + The members of the conference coughed again, looked at each other, and + there was a silence. For some inexplicable reason, nobody cared to mention + the name of Austen Vane. + </p> + <p> + The Honourable Hilary pointed at the basswood table. + </p> + <p> + “Senator,” he said, “I understand you have been telephoning Mr. Flint. + Have you got orders to sit down there?” + </p> + <p> + “My dear sir,” said the Senator, “you misunderstand me.” + </p> + <p> + “Have you got orders to sit down there?” Mr. Vane repeated. + </p> + <p> + “No,” answered the Senator, “Mr. Flint's confidence in you—” + </p> + <p> + The Honourable Hilary sat down again, and at that instant the door was + suddenly flung open by Postmaster Bill Fleeting of Brampton, his genial + face aflame with excitement and streaming with perspiration. Forgotten, in + this moment, is senatorial courtesy and respect for the powers of the + feudal system. + </p> + <p> + “Say, boys,” he cried, “Putnam County's voting, and there's be'n no + nomination and ain't likely to be. Jim Scudder, the station-master at Wye, + is here on credentials, and he says for sure the thing's fizzled out, and + Tom Gaylord's left the hall!” + </p> + <p> + Again a silence, save for the high hum let in through the open doorway. + The members of the conference stared at the Honourable Hilary, who seemed + to have forgotten their presence; for he had moved his chair to the + window, and was gazing out over the roofs at the fast-fading red in the + western sky. + </p> + <p> + An hour later, when the room was in darkness save for the bar of light + that streamed in from the platform chandelier, Senator Whitredge entered. + </p> + <p> + “Hilary!” he said. + </p> + <p> + There was no answer. Mr. Whitredge felt in his pocket for a match, struck + it, and lighted the single jet over the basswood table. Mr. Vane still sat + by the window. The senator turned and closed the door, and read from a + paper in his hand; so used was he to formality that he read it formally, + yet with a feeling of intense relief, of deference, of apology. + </p> + <p> + “Fifth ballot:—The Honourable Giles Henderson of Kingston has... + 587; The Honourable Adam B. Hunt of Edmundton has... 230; The Honourable + Humphrey Crewe of Leith has... 154. + </p> + <p> + “And Giles Henderson is nominated—Hilary?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Mr. Vane. + </p> + <p> + “I don't think any of us were—quite ourselves to-day. It wasn't that + we didn't believe in you—but we didn't have all the threads in our + hands, and—for reasons which I think I can understand—you + didn't take us into your confidence. I want to—” + </p> + <p> + The words died on the senator's lips. So absorbed had he been in his + momentous news, and solicitous over the result of his explanation, that + his eye looked outward for the first time, and even then accidentally. + </p> + <p> + “Hilary!” he cried; “for God's sake, what's the matter? Are you sick?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Whitredge,” said Mr. Vane, slowly, “sick at heart.” + </p> + <p> + It was but natural that these extraordinary and incomprehensible words + should have puzzled and frightened the senator more than ever. + </p> + <p> + “Your heart!” he repeated. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, my heart,” said Hilary. + </p> + <p> + The senator reached for the ice-water on the table. + </p> + <p> + “Here,” he cried, pouring out a glass, “it's only the heat—it's been + a hard day—drink this.” + </p> + <p> + But Hilary did not raise his arm. The door opened others coming to + congratulate Hilary Vane on the greatest victory he had ever won. Offices + were secure once more, the feudal system intact, and rebels justly + punished; others coming to make their peace with the commander whom, + senseless as they were, they had dared to doubt. + </p> + <p> + They crowded past each other on the threshold, and stood grouped beyond + the basswood table, staring—staring—men suddenly come upon a + tragedy instead of a feast, the senator still holding the glass of water + in a hand that trembled and spilled it. And it was the senator, after all, + who first recovered his presence of mind. He set down the water, pushed + his way through the group into the hall, where the tumult and the shouting + die. Mr. Giles Henderson, escorted, is timidly making his way towards the + platform to read his speech of acceptance of a willing bondage, when a + voice rings out:—“If there is a physician in the house, will he + please come forward?” + </p> + <p> + And then a hush,—and then the buzz of comment. Back to the little + room once more, where they are gathered speechless about Hilary Vane. And + the doctor comes young Dr. Tredway of Ripton, who is before all others. + </p> + <p> + “I expected this to happen, gentlemen,” he said, “and I have been here all + day, at the request of Mr. Vane's son, for this purpose.” + </p> + <p> + “Austen!” + </p> + <p> + It was Hilary who spoke. + </p> + <p> + “I have sent for him,” said the doctor. “And now, gentlemen, if you will + kindly—” + </p> + <p> + They withdrew and the doctor shut the door. Outside, the Honourable Giles + is telling them how seriously he regards the responsibility of the honour + thrust upon him by a great party. But nobody hears him in the wild rumours + that fly from mouth to mouth as the hall empties. Rushing in against the + tide outpouring, tall, stern, vigorous, is a young man whom many + recognize, whose name is on many lips as they make way for him, who might + have saved them if he would. The door of the little room opens, and he + stands before his father, looking down at him. And the stern expression is + gone from his face. + </p> + <p> + “Austen!” said Mr. Vane. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Judge.” + </p> + <p> + “Take me away from here. Take me home—now—to-night.” + </p> + <p> + Austen glanced at Dr. Tredway. + </p> + <p> + “It is best,” said the doctor; “we will take him home—to-night.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0028" id="link2HCH0028"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXVIII. THE VOICE OF AN ERA + </h2> + <p> + They took him home, in the stateroom of the sleeper attached to the night + express from the south, although Mr. Flint, by telephone, had put a + special train at his disposal. The long service of Hilary Vane was over; + he had won his last fight for the man he had chosen to call his master; + and those who had fought behind him, whose places, whose very luminary + existences, had depended on his skill, knew that the end had come; nay, + were already speculating, manoeuvring, and taking sides. Who would be the + new Captain-general? Who would be strong enough to suppress the straining + ambitions of the many that the Empire might continue to flourish in its + integrity and gather tribute? It is the world-old cry around the palace + walls: Long live the new ruler—if you can find him among the + curdling factions. + </p> + <p> + They carried Hilary home that September night, when Sawanec was like a + gray ghost-mountain facing the waning moon, back to the home of those + strange, Renaissance Austens which he had reclaimed for a grim puritanism, + and laid him in the carved and canopied bedstead Channing Austen had + brought from Spain. Euphrasia had met them at the door, but a trained + nurse from the Ripton hospital was likewise in waiting; and a New York + specialist had been summoned to prolong, if possible, the life of one from + whom all desire for life had passed. + </p> + <p> + Before sunrise a wind came from the northern spruces; the dawn was + cloudless, fiery red, and the air had an autumn sharpness. At ten o'clock + Dr. Harmon arrived, was met at the station by Austen, and spent half an + hour with Dr. Tredway. At noon the examination was complete. Thanks to + generations of self-denial by the Vanes of Camden Street, Mr. Hilary Vane + might live indefinitely, might even recover, partially; but at present he + was condemned to remain, with his memories, in the great canopied bed. + </p> + <p> + The Honourable Hilary had had another caller that morning besides Dr. + Harmon,—no less a personage than the president of the Northeastern + Railroads himself, who had driven down from Fairview immediately after + breakfast. Austen having gone to the station, Dr. Tredway had received Mr. + Flint in the darkened hall, and had promised to telephone to Fairview the + verdict of the specialist. At present Dr. Tredway did not think it wise to + inform Hilary of Mr. Flint's visit—not, at least, until after the + examination. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Vane exhibited the same silent stoicism on receiving the verdict of + Dr. Harmon as he had shown from the first. With the clew to Hilary's life + which Dr. Tredway had given him, the New York physician understood the + case; one common enough in his practice in a great city where the fittest + survive—sometimes only to succumb to unexpected and irreparable + blows in the evening of life. + </p> + <p> + On his return from seeing Dr. Harmon off Austen was met on the porch by + Dr. Tredway. + </p> + <p> + “Your father has something on his mind,” said the doctor, “and perhaps it + is just as well that he should be relieved. He is asking for you, and I + merely wished to advise you to make the conversation as short as + possible.” + </p> + <p> + Austen climbed the stairs in obedience to this summons, and stood before + his father at the bedside. Hilary lay, back among the pillows, and the + brightness of that autumn noonday only served to accentuate the pallor of + his face, the ravages of age which had come with such incredible + swiftness, and the outline of a once vigorous frame. The eyes alone shone + with a strange new light, and Austen found it unexpectedly difficult to + speak. He sat down on the bed and laid his hand on the helpless one that + rested on the coverlet. + </p> + <p> + “Austen,” said Mr. Vane, “I want you to go to Fairview.” + </p> + <p> + His son's hand tightened over his own. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Judge.” + </p> + <p> + “I want you to go now.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Judge.” + </p> + <p> + “You know the combination of my safe at the office. It's never been + changed since—since you were there. Open it. You will find two tin + boxes, containing papers labelled Augustus P. Flint. I want you to take + them to Fairview and put them into the hands of Mr. Flint himself. I—I + cannot trust any one else. I promised to take them myself, but—Flint + will understand.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll go right away,” said Austen, rising, and trying to speak cheerfully. + “Mr. Flint was here early this morning—inquiring for you.” + </p> + <p> + Hilary Vane's lips trembled, and another expression came into his eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Rode down to look at the scrap-heap,—did he?” + </p> + <p> + Austen strove to conceal his surprise at his father's words and change of + manner. + </p> + <p> + “Tredway saw him,” he said. “I'm pretty sure Mr. Flint doesn't feel that + way, Judge. He has taken your illness very much to heart, I know, and he + left some fruit and flowers for you.” + </p> + <p> + “I guess his daughter sent those,” said Hilary. + </p> + <p> + “His daughter?” Austen repeated. + </p> + <p> + “If I didn't think so,” Mr. Vane continued, “I'd send 'em back. I never + knew what she was until she picked me up and drove me down here. I've + always done Victoria an injustice.” + </p> + <p> + Austen walked to the door, and turned slowly. + </p> + <p> + “I'll go at once, Judge,” he said. + </p> + <p> + In the kitchen he was confronted by Euphrasia. + </p> + <p> + “When is that woman going away?” she demanded. “I've took care of Hilary + Vane nigh on to forty years, and I guess I know as much about nursing, and + more about Hilary, than that young thing with her cap and apron. I told + Dr. Tredway so. She even came down here to let me know what to cook for + him, and I sent her about her business.” + </p> + <p> + Austen smiled. It was the first sign, since his return the night before, + Euphrasia had given that an affection for Hilary Vane lurked beneath the + nature. + </p> + <p> + “She won't stay long, Phrasie,” he answered, and added mischievously, “for + a very good reason.” + </p> + <p> + “And what's that?” asked Euphrasia. + </p> + <p> + “Because you won't allow her to. I have a notion that she'll pack up and + leave in about three days, and that all the doctors in Ripton couldn't + keep her here.” + </p> + <p> + “Get along with you,” said Euphrasia, who could not for the life of her + help looking a little pleased. + </p> + <p> + “I'm going off for a few hours,” he said more seriously. “Dr. Tredway + tells me they do not look for any developments—for the worse.” + </p> + <p> + “Where are you going?” asked Euphrasia, sharply. + </p> + <p> + “To Fairview,” he said. + </p> + <p> + Euphrasia moved the kettle to another part of the stove. + </p> + <p> + “You'll see her?” she said. + </p> + <p> + “Who?” Austen asked. But his voice must have betrayed him a little, for + Euphrasia turned and seized him by the elbows and looked up into his face. + </p> + <p> + “Victoria,” she said. + </p> + <p> + He felt himself tremble at the name,—at the strangeness of its sound + on Euphrasia's lips. + </p> + <p> + “I do not expect to see Miss Flint,” he answered, controlling himself as + well as he was able. “I have an errand for the Judge with Mr. Flint + himself.” + </p> + <p> + Euphrasia had guessed his secret! But how? + </p> + <p> + “Hadn't you better see her?” said Euphrasia, in a curious monotone. + </p> + <p> + “But I have no errand with her,” he objected, mystified yet excited by + Euphrasia's manner. + </p> + <p> + “She fetched Hilary home,” said Euphrasia. + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “She couldn't have be'n kinder if she was his own daughter.” + </p> + <p> + “I know—” he began, but Euphrasia interrupted. + </p> + <p> + “She sent that Englishman for the doctor, and waited to take the news to + her father, and she came out in this kitchen and talked to me.” + </p> + <p> + Austen started. Euphrasia was not looking at him now, and suddenly she + dropped his arms and went to the window overlooking the garden. + </p> + <p> + “She wouldn't go in the parlour, but come right out here in her fine + clothes. I told her I didn't think she belonged in a kitchen—but I + guess I did her an injustice,” said Euphrasia, slowly. + </p> + <p> + “I think you did,” he said, and wondered. + </p> + <p> + “She looked at that garden,” Euphrasia went on, “and cried out. I didn't + callate she was like that. And the first thing I knew I was talking about + your mother, and I'd forgot who I was talking to. She wahn't like a + stranger—it was just as if I'd known her always. I haven't + understood it yet. And after a while I told her about that verse, and she + wanted to see it—the verse about the skylark, you know—” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Austen. + </p> + <p> + “Well, the way she read it made me cry, it brought back Sarah Austen so. + Somehow, I can't account for it, she puts me in mind of your mother.” + </p> + <p> + Austen did not speak. + </p> + <p> + “In more ways than one,” said Euphrasia. “I didn't look to find her so + natural—and so gentle. And their she has a way of scolding you, just + as Sarah Austen had, that you'd never suspect.” + </p> + <p> + “Did she scold you—Phrasie?” asked Austen. And the irresistible + humour that is so near to sorrow made him smile again. + </p> + <p> + “Indeed she did! And it surprised, me some—coming right out of a + summer sky. I told her what I thought about Hilary, and how he'd driven + you out of your own mother's house. She said you'd ought to be sent for, + and I said you oughtn't to set foot in this house until Hilary sent for + you. She said I'd no right to take such a revenge—that you'd come + right away if you knew Hilary'd had a stroke, and that Hilary'd never send + for you—because he couldn't. She said he was like a man on a desert + island.” + </p> + <p> + “She was right,” answered Austen. + </p> + <p> + “I don't know about that,” said Euphrasia; “she hadn't put up with Hilary + for forty years, as I had, and seen what he'd done to your mother and you. + But that's what she said. And she went for you herself, when she found the + doctor couldn't go. Austen, ain't you going to see her?” + </p> + <p> + Austen shook his head gently, and smiled at her. + </p> + <p> + “I'm afraid it's no use, Phrasie,” he said. “Just because she has been—kind + we mustn't be deceived. It's h er nature to be kind.” + </p> + <p> + Euphrasia crossed the room swiftly, and seized his arm again. + </p> + <p> + “She loves you, Austen,” she cried; “she loves you. Do you think that I'd + love her, that I'd plead for her, if she didn't?” + </p> + <p> + Austen's breath came deeply. He disengaged himself, and went to the + window. + </p> + <p> + “No,” he said, “you don't know. You can't—know. I have only seen her—a + few times. She lives a different life—and with other people. She + will marry a man who can give her more.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you think I could be deceived?” exclaimed Euphrasia, almost fiercely. + “It's as true as the sun shining on that mountain. You believe she loves + the Englishman, but I tell you she loves you—you.” + </p> + <p> + He turned towards her. + </p> + <p> + “How do you know?” he asked, as though he were merely curious. + </p> + <p> + “Because I'm a woman, and she's a woman,” said Euphrasia. “Oh, she didn't + confess it. If she had, I shouldn't think so much of her. But she told me + as plain as though she had spoken it in words, before she left this room.” + </p> + <p> + Austen shook his head again. + </p> + <p> + “Phrasie,” he said, “I'm afraid you've been building castles in Spain.” + And he went out, and across to the stable to harness Pepper. + </p> + <p> + Austen did not believe Euphrasia. On that eventful evening when Victoria + had called at Jabe Jenney's, the world's aspect had suddenly changed for + him; old values had faded,—values which, after all, had been but + tints and glows,—and sterner but truer colours took their places. He + saw Victoria's life in a new perspective,—one in which his was but a + small place in the background of her numerous beneficences; which was, + after all, the perspective in which he had first viewed it. But, by + degrees, the hope that she loved him had grown and grown until it had + become unconsciously the supreme element of his existence,—the hope + that stole sweetly into his mind with the morning light, and stayed him + through the day, and blended into the dreams of darkness. + </p> + <p> + By inheritance, by tradition, by habits of thought, Austen Vane was an + American,—an American as differentiated from the citizen of any + other nation upon the earth. The French have an expressive phrase in + speaking of a person as belonging to this or that world, meaning the + circle by which the life of an individual is bounded; the true American + recognizes these circles—but with complacency, and with a sure + knowledge of his destiny eventually to find himself within the one for + which he is best fitted by his talents and his tastes. The mere fact that + Victoria had been brought up amongst people with whom he had nothing in + common would not have deterred Austen Vane from pressing his suit; + considerations of honour had stood in the way, and hope had begun to + whisper that these might, in the end, be surmounted. Once they had + disappeared, and she loved him, that were excuse and reason enough. + </p> + <p> + And suddenly the sight of Victoria with a probable suitor—who at + once had become magnified into an accepted suitor—had dispelled + hope. Euphrasia! Euphrasia had been deceived as he had, by a loving + kindness and a charity that were natural. But what so natural (to one who + had lived the life of Austen Vane) as that she should marry amongst those + whose ways of life were her ways? In the brief time in which he had seen + her and this other man, Austen's quickened perceptions had detected tacit + understanding, community of interest, a habit of thought and manner,—in + short, a common language, unknown to him, between the two. And, more than + these, the Victoria of the blissful excursions he had known was changed as + she had spoken to him—constrained, distant, apart; although still + dispensing kindness, going out of her way to bring Hilary home, and to + tell him of Hilary's accident. Rumour, which cannot be confined in casks + or bottles, had since informed Austen Vane that Mr. Rangely had spent the + day with Victoria, and had remained at Fairview far into the evening; + rumour went farther (thanks to Mrs. Pomfret) and declared the engagement + already an accomplished fact. And to Austen, in the twilight in front of + Jabe Jenney's, the affair might well have assumed the proportions of an + intimacy of long standing rather than that of the chance acquaintance of + an hour. Friends in common, modes of life in common, and incidents in + common are apt to sweep away preliminaries. + </p> + <p> + Such were Austen's thoughts as he drove to Fairview that September + afternoon when the leaves were turning their white backs to the northwest + breeze. The sun was still high, and the distant hills and mountains were + as yet scarce stained with blue, and stood out in startling clearness + against the sky. Would he see her? That were a pain he scarce dared + contemplate. + </p> + <p> + He reached the arched entrance, was on the drive. Here was the path again + by which she had come down the hillside; here was the very stone on which + she had stood—awaiting him. Why? Why had she done that? + Well-remembered figure amidst the yellow leaves dancing in the sunlight! + Here he had stopped, perforce, and here he had looked up into his face and + smiled and spoken! + </p> + <p> + At length he gained the plateau across which the driveway ran, between + round young maples, straight to Fairview House, and he remembered the + stares from the tea-tables, and how she had come out to his rescue. Now + the lawn was deserted, save for a gardener among the shrubs. He rang the + stable-bell, and as he waited for an answer to his summons, the sense of + his remoteness from these surroundings of hers deepened, and with a touch + of inevitable humour he recalled the low-ceiled bedroom at Mr. Jenney's + and the kitchen in Hanover Street; the annual cost of the care of that + lawn and driveway might well have maintained one of these households. + </p> + <p> + He told the stable-boy to wait. It is to be remarked as curious that the + name of the owner of the house on Austen's lips brought the first thought + of him to Austen's mind. He was going to see and speak with Mr. Flint, a + man who had been his enemy ever since the day he had come here and laid + down his pass on the president's desk; the man who—so he believed + until three days ago—had stood between him and happiness. Well, it + did not matter now. + </p> + <p> + Austen followed the silent-moving servant through the hall. Those were the + stairs which knew her feet, these the rooms—so subtly flower-scented—she + lived in; then came the narrow passage to the sterner apartment of the + master himself. Mr. Flint was alone, and seated upright behind the massive + oak desk, from which bulwark the president of the Northeastern was wont to + meet his opponents and his enemies; and few visitors came into his + presence, here or elsewhere, who were not to be got the better of, if + possible. A life-long habit had accustomed Mr. Flint to treat all men as + adversaries until they were proved otherwise. His square, close-cropped + head, his large features, his alert eyes, were those of a fighter. + </p> + <p> + He did not rise, but nodded. Suddenly Austen was enveloped in a flame of + wrath that rose without warning and blinded him, and it was with a supreme + effort to control himself that he stopped in the doorway. He was + frightened, for he had felt this before, and he knew it for the anger that + demands physical violence. + </p> + <p> + “Come in, Mr. Vane,” said the president. + </p> + <p> + Austen advanced to the desk, and laid the boxes before Mr. Flint. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Vane told me to say that he would have brought these himself, had it + been possible. Here is the list, and I shall be much obliged if you will + verify it before I go back.” + </p> + <p> + “Sit down.” said Mr. Flint. + </p> + <p> + Austen sat down, with the corner of the desk between them, while Mr. Flint + opened the boxes and began checking off the papers on the list. + </p> + <p> + “How is your father this afternoon?” he asked, without looking up. + </p> + <p> + “As well as can be expected,” said Austen. + </p> + <p> + “Of course nobody knew his condition but himself,” Mr. Flint continued; + “but it was a great shock to me—when he resigned as my counsel three + days ago.” + </p> + <p> + Austen laid his forearm on the desk, and his hand closed. + </p> + <p> + “He resigned three days ago?” he exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Flint was surprised, but concealed it. + </p> + <p> + “I can understand, under the circumstances, how he has overlooked telling + you. His resignation takes effect to-day.” + </p> + <p> + Austen was silent a moment, while he strove to apply this fact to his + father's actions. + </p> + <p> + “He waited until after the convention.” + </p> + <p> + “Exactly,” said Mr. Flint, catching the implied accusation in Austen's + tone; “and needless to say, if I had been able to prevent his going, in + view of what happened on Monday night, I should have done so. As you know, + after his—accident, he went to the capital without informing any + one.” + </p> + <p> + “As a matter of honour,” said Austen. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Flint looked up from the papers, and regarded him narrowly, for the + tone in which this was spoken did not escape the president of the + Northeastern. He saw, in fact, that at the outset he had put a weapon into + Austen's hands. Hilary's resignation was a vindication of Austen's + attitude, an acknowledgment that the business and political practices of + his life had been wrong. + </p> + <p> + What Austen really felt, when he had grasped the significance of that + fact, was relief—gratitude. A wave of renewed affection for his + father swept over him, of affection and pity and admiration, and for the + instant he forgot Mr. Flint. + </p> + <p> + “As a matter of honour,” Mr. Flint repeated. “Knowing he was ill, Mr. Vane + insisted upon going to that convention, even at the risk of his life. It + is a fitting close to a splendid career, and one that will not soon be + forgotten.” + </p> + <p> + Austen merely looked at Mr. Flint, who may have found the glance a trifle + disconcerting, for he turned to the papers again. + </p> + <p> + “I repeat,” he went on presently, “that this illness of Mr. Vane's is not + only a great loss to the Northeastern system, but a great blow to me + personally. I have been associated with him closely for more than a + quarter of a century, and I have never seen a lawyer of greater integrity, + clear-headedness, and sanity of view. He saw things as they were, and he + did as much to build up the business interests and the prosperity of this + State as any man I know of. He was true to his word, and true to his + friends.” + </p> + <p> + Still Austen did not reply. He continued to look at Mr. Flint, and Mr. + Flint continued to check the papers only more slowly. He had nearly + finished the first box. + </p> + <p> + “A wave of political insanity, to put it mildly, seems to be sweeping over + this country,” said the president of the Northeastern. “Men who would + paralyze and destroy the initiative of private enterprise, men who + themselves are ambitious, and either incapable or unsuccessful, have + sprung up; writers who have no conscience, whose one idea is to make money + out of a passing craze against honest capital, have aided them. + Disappointed and dangerous politicians who merely desire office and power + have lifted their voices in the hue and cry to fool the honest voter. I am + glad to say I believe that the worst of this madness and rascality is + over; that the common sense of the people of this country is too great to + be swept away by the methods of these self-seekers; that the ordinary man + is beginning to see that his bread and butter depends on the brain of the + officers who are trying honestly to conduct great enterprises for the + benefit of the average citizen. + </p> + <p> + “We did not expect to escape in this State,” Mr. Flint went on, raising + his head and meeting Austen's look; “the disease was too prevalent and too + catching for the weak-minded. We had our self-seekers who attempted to + bring ruin upon an institution which has done more for our population than + any other. I do not hesitate to speak of the Northeastern Railroads as an + institution, and as an institution which has been as conscientiously and + conservatively conducted as any in the country, and with as scrupulous a + regard for the welfare of all. Hilary Vane, as you doubtless know, was + largely responsible for this. My attention, as president of all the roads, + has been divided. Hilary Vane guarded the interests in this State, and no + man could have guarded them better. He well deserves the thanks of future + generations for the uncompromising fight he made against such men and such + methods. It has broken him down at a time of life when he has earned + repose, but he has the satisfaction of knowing that he has won the battle + for conservative American principles, and that he has nominated a governor + worthy of the traditions of the State.” + </p> + <p> + And Mr. Flint started checking off the papers again. Had the occasion been + less serious, Austen could have smiled at Mr. Flint's ruse—so + characteristic of the tactics of the president of the Northeastern—of + putting him into a position where criticism of the Northeastern and its + practices would be criticism of his own father. As it was, he only set his + jaw more firmly, an expression indicative of contempt for such tactics. He + had not come there to be lectured out of the “Book of Arguments” on the + divine right of railroads to govern, but to see that certain papers were + delivered in safety. + </p> + <p> + Had his purpose been deliberately to enter into a contest with Mr. Flint, + Austen could not have planned the early part of it any better than by + pursuing this policy of silence. To a man of Mr. Flint's temperament and + training, it was impossible to have such an opponent within reach without + attempting to hector him into an acknowledgment of the weakness of his + position. Further than this, Austen had touched him too often on the quick + merely to be considered in the light of a young man who held opposite and + unfortunate views—although it was Mr. Flint's endeavour to put him + in this light. The list of injuries was too fresh in Mr. Flint's mind—even + that last conversation with Victoria, in which she had made it plain that + her sympathies were with Austen. + </p> + <p> + But with an opponent who would not be led into ambush, who had the + strength to hold his fire under provocation, it was no easy matter to + maintain a height of conscious, matter-of-fact rectitude and implied + reproof. Austen's silence, Austen's attitude, declared louder than words + the contempt for such manoeuvres of a man who knows he is in the right—and + knows that his adversary knows it. It was this silence and this attitude + which proclaimed itself that angered Mr. Flint, yet made him warily + conceal his anger and change his attack. + </p> + <p> + “It is some years since we met, Mr. Vane,” he remarked presently. + </p> + <p> + Austen's face relaxed into something of a smile. + </p> + <p> + “Four, I think,” he answered. + </p> + <p> + “You hadn't long been back from that Western experience. Well, your father + has one decided consolation; you have fulfilled his hope that you would + settle down here and practise in the State. And I hear that you are fast + forging to the front. You are counsel for the Gaylord Company, I believe.” + </p> + <p> + “The result of an unfortunate accident,” said Austen; “Mr. Hammer died.” + </p> + <p> + “And on the occasion when you did me the honour to call on me,” said Mr. + Flint, “if I remember rightly, you expressed some rather radical views—for + the son of Hilary Vane.” + </p> + <p> + “For the son of Hilary Vane,” Austen agreed, with a smile. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Flint ignored the implication in the repetition. + </p> + <p> + “Thinking as mach as I do of Mr. Vane, I confess that your views at that + time rather disturbed me. It is a matter of relief to learn that you have + refused to lend yourself to the schemes of men like our neighbour, Mr. + Humphrey Crewe, of Leith.” + </p> + <p> + “Honesty compels me to admit,” answered Austen, “that I did not refrain on + Mr. Crewe's account.” + </p> + <p> + “Although,” said Mr. Flint, drumming on the table, “there was some talk + that you were to be brought forward as a dark horse in the convention, and + as a candidate unfriendly to the interests of the Northeastern Railroads, + I am glad you did not consent to be put in any such position. I perceive + that a young man of your ability and—popularity, a Vane of Camden + Street, must inevitably become a force in this State. And as a force, you + must retain the conservatism of the Vanes—the traditional + conservatism of the State. The Northeastern Railroads will continue to be + a very large factor in the life of the people after you and I are gone, + Mr. Vane. You will have to live, as it were, with that corporation, and + help to preserve it. We shall have to work together, perhaps, to that end—who + can say? I repeat, I am glad that your good sense led you to refrain from + coming as a candidate before that Convention. There is time enough in the + future, and you could not have been nominated.” + </p> + <p> + “On the contrary,” answered Austen, quietly, “I could have been + nominated.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Flint smiled knowingly—but with an effort. What a relief it + would have been to him to charge horse and foot, to forget that he was a + railroad president dealing with a potential power. + </p> + <p> + “Do you honestly believe that?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “I am not accustomed to dissemble my beliefs,” said Austen, gravely. “The + fact that my father had faith enough in me to count with certainty on my + refusal to go before the convention enabled him to win the nomination for + the candidate of your railroads.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Flint continued to smile, but into his eyes had crept a gleam of + anger. + </p> + <p> + “It is easy to say such things—after the convention,” he remarked. + </p> + <p> + “And it would have been impossible to say their before,” Austen responded + instantly, with a light in his own eyes. “My nomination was the only + disturbing factor in the situation for you and the politicians who had + your interests in hand, and it was as inevitable as night and day that the + forces of the candidates who represented the two wings of the machine of + the Northeastern Railroads should have united against Mr. Crewe. I want to + say to you frankly that if my father had not been the counsel for your + corporation, and responsible for its political success, or if he could + have resigned with honour before the convention, I should not have refused + to let my name go in. After all,” he added, in a lower tone, and with a + slight gesture characteristic of him when a subject was distasteful, “it + doesn't matter who is elected governor this autumn.” + </p> + <p> + “What?” cried Mr. Flint, surprised out of his attitude as much by Austen's + manner as by Austen's words. + </p> + <p> + “It doesn't matter,” said Austen, “whether the Northeastern Railroads have + succeeded this time in nominating and electing a governor to whom they can + dictate, and who will reappoint railroad commissioners and other State + officials in their interests. The practices by which you have controlled + this State, Mr. Flint, and elected governors and councillors and State and + national senators are doomed. However necessary these practices may have + been from your point of view, they violated every principle of free + government, and were they to continue, the nation to which we belong would + inevitably decay and become the scorn of the world. Those practices + depended for their success on one condition,—which in itself is the + most serious of ills in a republic,—the ignorance and disregard of + the voter. You have but to read the signs of the times to see clearly that + the day of such conditions is past, to see that the citizens of this State + and this country are thinking for themselves, as they should; are alive to + the dangers and determined to avert it. You may succeed in electing one + more governor and one more senate, or two, before the people are able to + destroy the machinery you have built up and repeal the laws you have made + to sustain it. I repeat, it doesn't matter in the long run. The era of + political domination by a corporation, and mainly for the benefit of a + corporation, is over.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Flint had been drumming on the desk, his face growing a darker red as + Austen proceeded: Never, since he had become president of the Northeastern + Railroads, had any man said such things to his face. And the fact that + Austen Vane had seemingly not spoken in wrath, although forcefully enough + to compel him to listen, had increased Mr. Flint's anger. Austen + apparently cared very little for him or his opinions in comparison with + his own estimate of right and wrong. + </p> + <p> + “It seems,” said Mr. Flint, “that you have grown more radical since your + last visit.” + </p> + <p> + “If it be radical to refuse to accept a pass from a railroad to bind my + liberty of action as an attorney and a citizen, then I am radical,” + replied Austen. “If it be radical to maintain that the elected + representatives of the people should not receive passes, or be beholden to + any man or any corporation, I acknowledge the term. If it be radical to + declare that these representatives should be elected without interference, + and while in office should do exact justice to the body of citizens on the + one hand and the corporations on the other, I declare myself a radical. + But my radicalism goes back behind the establishment of railroads, Mr. + Flint, back to the foundation of this government, to the idea from which + it sprang.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Flint smiled again. + </p> + <p> + “We have changed materially since then,” he said. “I am afraid such a + utopian state of affairs, beautiful as it is, will not work in the + twentieth century. It is a commercial age, and the interests which are the + bulwark of the country's strength must be protected.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Austen, “we have changed materially. The mistake you make, and + men like you, is the stress which you lay on that word material. Are there + no such things as moral interests, Mr. Flint? And are they not quite as + important in government, if not more important, than material interests? + Surely, we cannot have commercial and political stability without + cominertial and political honour! if, as a nation, we lose sight of the + ideals which have carried us so far, which have so greatly modified the + conditions of other peoples than ourselves, we shall perish as a force in + the world. And if this government proves a failure, how long do you think + the material interests of which you are so solicitous will endure? Or do + you care whether they endure beyond your lifetime? Perhaps not. But it is + a matter of importance, not only to the nation, but to the world, whether + or not the moral idea of the United States of America is perpetuated, I + assure you.” + </p> + <p> + “I begin to fear, Mr. Vane,” said the president of the Northeastern, “that + you have missed your vocation. Suppose I were to grant you, for the sake + of argument, that the Northeastern Railroads, being the largest taxpayers + in this State, have taken an interest in seeing that conservative men fill + responsible offices. Suppose such to be the case, and we abruptly cease—to + take such an interest. What then? Are we not at the mercy of any and all + unscrupulous men who build up a power of their own, and start again the + blackmail of the old days?” + </p> + <p> + “You have put the case mildly,” said Austen, and ingeniously. “As a matter + of fact, Mr. Flint, you know as well as I do that for years you have + governed this State absolutely, for the purpose of keeping down your + taxes, avoiding unnecessary improvements for safety and comfort, and + paying high dividends—” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps you realize that in depicting these criminal operations so + graphically,” cried Mr. Flint, interrupting, “you are involving the + reputation of one of the best citizens the State ever had—your own + father.” + </p> + <p> + Austen Vane leaned forward across the desk, and even Mr. Flint (if the + truth were known) recoiled a little before the anger he had aroused. It + shot forth from Austen's eyes, proclaimed itself in the squareness of the + face, and vibrated in every word he spoke. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Flint,” he said, “I refrain from comment upon your methods of + argument. There were many years in which my father believed the practices + which he followed in behalf of your railroad to be necessary—and + hence justified. And I have given you the credit of holding the same + belief. Public opinion would not, perhaps, at that time have protected + your property from political blackmail. I merely wished you to know, Mr. + Flint, that there is no use in attempting to deceive me in regard to the + true colour of those practices. It is perhaps useless for me to add that + in my opinion you understand as well as I do the real reason for Mr. + Vane's resignation and illness. Once he became convinced that the + practices were wrong, he could no longer continue them without violating + his conscience. He kept his word to you—at the risk of his life, + and, as his son, I take a greater pride in him to-day than I ever have + before.” + </p> + <p> + Austen got to his feet. He was formidable even to Mr. Flint, who had met + many formidable, and angry men in his time—although not of this + type. Perhaps—who can say?—he was the in the mind of the + president unconscious embodiment of the Northeastern of the new forces + which had arisen against him,—forces which he knew in his secret + soul he could not combat, because they were the irresistible forces of + things not material. All his life he had met and successfully conquered + forces of another kind, and put down with a strong hand merely physical + encroachments. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Flint's nature was not an introspective one, and if he had tried, he + could not have accounted for his feelings. He was angry—that was + certain. But he measured the six feet and more of Austen Vane with his + eye, and in spite of himself experienced the compelled admiration of one + fighting man for another. A thought, which had made itself vaguely felt at + intervals in the past half hour, shot suddenly and poignantly through Mr. + Flint's mind what if this young man, who dared in spite of every interest + to oppose him, should in the apparently inevitable trend of things, + become...? + </p> + <p> + Mr. Flint rose and went to the window, where he stood silent for a space, + looking out, played upon by unwonted conflicting thoughts and emotions. At + length, with a characteristic snap of the fingers, he turned abruptly. + Austen Vane was still standing beside the desk. His face was still square, + determined, but Mr. Flint noted curiously that the anger was gone from his + eyes, and that another—although equally human—expression had + taken its place,—a more disturbing expression, to Mr. Flint. + </p> + <p> + “It appears, Mr. Vane,” he said, gathering up the papers and placing them + in the boxes, “it appears that we are able to agree upon one point, at + least—Hilary Vane.” + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Flint,” said Austen, “I did not come up here with any thought of + arguing with you, of intruding any ideas—I may hold, but you have + yourself asked me one question which I feel bound to answer to the best of + my ability before I go. You have asked me what, in my opinion, would + happen if you ceased—as you express it—to take an interest in + the political, affairs of this State. + </p> + <p> + “I believe, as firmly as I stand here, that the public opinion which + exists to-day would protect your property, and I base that belief on the + good sense of the average American voter. The public would protect you not + only in its own interests, but from an inherent sense of fair play. On the + other hand, if you persist in a course of political manipulation which is + not only obsolete but wrong, you will magnify the just charges against + you, and the just wrath; you will put ammunition into the hands of the + agitators you rightly condemn. The stockholders of your corporation, + perhaps, are bound to suffer some from the fact that you have taken its + life-blood to pay dividends, and the public will demand that it be built + up into a normal and healthy condition. On the other hand, it could not + have gone on as it was. But the corporation will suffer much more if a + delayed justice is turned into vengeance. + </p> + <p> + “You ask me what I could do. I should recognize, frankly, the new + conditions, and declare as frankly what the old ones were, and why such + methods of defence as you adopted were necessary and justified. I should + announce, openly, that from this day onward the Northeastern Railroads + depended for fair play on an enlightened public—and I think your + trust would be well founded, and your course vindicated. I should declare, + from this day onward, that the issue of political passes, newspaper + passes, and all other subterfuges would be stopped, and that all political + hirelings would be dismissed. I should appeal to the people of this State + to raise up political leaders who would say to the corporations, 'We will + protect you from injustice if you will come before the elected + representatives of the people, openly, and say what you want and why you + want it.' By such a course you would have, in a day, the affection of the + people instead of their distrust. They would rally to your defence. And, + more than that, you would have done a service for American government the + value of which cannot well be estimated.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Flint rang the bell on his desk, and his secretary appeared. + </p> + <p> + “Put these in my private safe, Mr. Freeman,” he said. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Freeman took the boxes, glanced curiously at Austen, and went out. It + was the same secretary, Austen recalled, who had congratulated him four + years before. Then Mr. Flint laid his hand deliberately on the desk, and + smiled slightly as he turned to Austen. + </p> + <p> + “If you had run a railroad as long as I have, Mr. Vane,” he said, “I do + you the credit of thinking that you would have intelligence enough to + grasp other factors which your present opportunities for observation have + not permitted you to perceive. Nevertheless, I am much obliged to you for + your opinion, and I value the—frankness in which it was given. And I + shall hope to hear good news of your father. Remember me to him, and tell + him how deeply I feel his affliction. I shall call again in a day or two.” + </p> + <p> + Austen took up his hat. + </p> + <p> + “Good day, Mr. Flint,” he said; “I will tell him.” + </p> + <p> + By the time he had reached the door, Mr. Flint had gone back to the window + once more, and appeared to have forgotten his presence. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0029" id="link2HCH0029"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXIX. THE VALE OF THE BLUE + </h2> + <p> + Austen himself could not well have defined his mental state as he made his + way through the big rooms towards the door, but he was aware of one main + desire—to escape from Fairview. With the odours of the flowers in + the tall silver vases on the piano—her piano!—the spirit of + desire which had so long possessed him, waking and sleeping, returned,—returned + to torture him now with greater skill amidst these her possessions; her + volume of Chopin on the rack, bound in red leather and stamped with her + initials, which compelled his glance as he passed, and brought vivid to + his memory the night he had stood in the snow and heard her playing. So, + he told himself, it must always be, for him to stand in the snow + listening. + </p> + <p> + He reached the hall, with a vast relief perceived that it was empty, and + opened the door and went out. Strange that he should note, first of all, + as he parsed a moment at the top of the steps, that the very day had + changed. The wind had fallen; the sun, well on his course towards the rim + of western hills, poured the golden light of autumn over field and forest, + while Sawanec was already in the blue shadow; the expectant stillness of + autumn reigned, and all unconsciously Austen's blood was quickened though + a quickening of pain. + </p> + <p> + The surprise of the instant over, he noticed that his horse was gone,—had + evidently been taken to the stables. And rather than ring the bell and + wait in the mood in which he found himself, he took the path through the + shrubbery from which he had seen the groom emerge. + </p> + <p> + It turned beyond the corner of the house, descended a flight of stone + steps, and turned again. + </p> + <p> + They stood gazing each at the other for a space of time not to be computed + before either spoke, and the sense of unreality which comes with a sudden + fulfilment of intense desire—or dread—was upon Austen. Could + this indeed be her figure, and this her face on which he watched the + colour rise (so he remembered afterwards) like the slow flood of day? Were + there so many Victorias, that a new one—and a strange one—should + confront him at every meeting? And, even while he looked, this Victoria, + too,—one who had been near him and departed,—was surveying him + now from an unapproachable height of self-possession and calm. She held + out her hand, and he took it, scarce knowing—that it was hers. + </p> + <p> + “How do you do, Mr. Vane?” she said; “I did not expect to meet you here.” + </p> + <p> + “I was searching for the stable, to get my horse,” he answered lamely. + </p> + <p> + “And your father?” she asked quickly; “I hope he is not—worse.” + </p> + <p> + It was thus she supplied him, quite naturally, with an excuse for being at + Fairview. And yet her solicitude for Hilary was wholly unaffected. + </p> + <p> + “Dr. Harmon, who came from New York, has been more encouraging than I had + dared to hope,” said Austen. “And, by the way, Mr. Vane believes that you + had a share in the fruit and flowers which Mr. Flint so kindly brought. If—he + had known that I were to see you, I am sure he would have wished me to + thank you.” + </p> + <p> + Victoria turned, and tore a leaf from the spiraea. + </p> + <p> + “I will show you where the stables are,” she said; “the path divides a + little farther on—and you might find yourself in the kitchen.” + </p> + <p> + Austen smiled, and as she went on slowly, he followed her, the path not + being wide enough for them to walk abreast, his eyes caressing the stray + hairs that clustered about her neck and caught the light. It seemed so + real, and yet so unrealizable, that he should be here with her. + </p> + <p> + “I am afraid,” he said, “that I did not express my gratitude as I should + have done the evening you were good enough to come up to Jabe Jenney's.” + </p> + <p> + He saw her colour rise again, but she did not pause. + </p> + <p> + “Please don't say anything about it, Mr. Vane. Of course I understand how + you felt,” she cried. + </p> + <p> + “Neither my father nor myself will forget that service,” said Austen. + </p> + <p> + “It was nothing,” answered Victoria, in a low voice. “Or, rather, it was + something I shall always be glad that I did not miss. I have seen Mr. Vane + all my life, but I never=-never really knew him until that day. I have + come to the conclusion,” she added, in a lighter tone, “that the young are + not always the best judges of the old. There,” she added, “is the path + that goes to the kitchen, which you probably would have taken.” + </p> + <p> + He laughed. Past and future were blotted out, and he lived only in the + present. He could think of nothing but that she was here beside him. + Afterwards, cataclysms might come and welcome. + </p> + <p> + “Isn't there another place,” he asked, “where I might lose my way?” + </p> + <p> + She turned and gave him one of the swift, searching looks he recalled so + well: a look the meaning of which he could not declare, save that she + seemed vainly striving to fathom something in him—as though he were + not fathomable! He thought she smiled a little as she took the left-hand + path. + </p> + <p> + “You will remember me to your father?” she said. “I hope he is not + suffering.” + </p> + <p> + “He is not suffering,” Austen replied. “Perhaps—if it were not too + much to ask—perhaps you might come to see him, sometime? I can think + of nothing that would give him greater pleasure.” + </p> + <p> + “I will come—sometime,” she answered. “I am going away to-morrow, + but—” + </p> + <p> + “Away?” he repeated, in dismay. Now that he was beside her, all + unconsciously the dominating male spirit which was so strong in him, and + which moves not woman alone, but the world, was asserting itself. For the + moment he was the only man, and she the only woman, in the universe. + </p> + <p> + “I am going on a promised visit to a friend of mine.” + </p> + <p> + “For how long?” he demanded. + </p> + <p> + “I don't know, said Victoria, calmly; probably until she gets tired of me. + And there,” she added, “are the stables, where no doubt you will find your + faithful Pepper.” + </p> + <p> + They had come out upon an elevation above the hard service drive, and + across it, below them, was the coach house with its clock-tower and + weather-vane, and its two wings, enclosing a paved court where a whistling + stable-boy was washing a carriage. Austen regarded this scene an instant, + and glanced back at her profile. It was expressionless. + </p> + <p> + “Might I not linger—a few minutes?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + Her lips parted slightly in a smile, and she turned her head. How + wonderfully, he thought, it was poised upon her shoulders. + </p> + <p> + “I haven't been very hospitable, have I?” she said. “But then, you seemed + in such a hurry to go, didn't you? You were walking so fast when I met you + that you quite frightened me.” + </p> + <p> + “Was I?” asked Austen, in surprise. + </p> + <p> + She laughed. + </p> + <p> + “You looked as if you were ready to charge somebody. But this isn't a very + nice place—to linger, and if you really will stay awhile,” said + Victoria, “we might walk over to the dairy, where that model protege of + yours, Eben Fitch, whom you once threatened with corporal chastisement if + he fell from grace, is engaged. I know he will be glad to see you.” + </p> + <p> + Austen laughed as he caught up with her. She was already halfway across + the road. + </p> + <p> + “Do you always beat people if they do wrong?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “It was Eben who requested it, if I remember rightly,” he said. + “Fortunately, the trial has not yet arrived. Your methods,” he added, + “seem to be more successful with Eben.” + </p> + <p> + They went down the grassy slope with its groups of half-grown trees; + through an orchard shot with slanting, yellow sunlight,—the golden + fruit, harvested by the morning winds, littering the ground; and then by a + gate into a dimpled, emerald pasture slope where the Guernseys were + feeding along a water run. They spoke of trivial things that found no + place in Austen's memory, and at times, upon one pretext or another, he + fell behind a little that he might feast his eyes upon her. + </p> + <p> + Eben was not at the dairy, and Austen betraying no undue curiosity as to + his whereabouts, they walked on up the slopes, and still upward towards + the crest of the range of hills that marked the course of the Blue. He did + not allow his mind to dwell upon this new footing they were on, but clung + to it. Before, in those delicious moments with her, seemingly pilfered + from the angry gods, the sense of intimacy had been deep; deep, because + robbing the gods together, they had shared the feeling of guilt, had known + that retribution would coma. And now the gods had locked their + treasure-chest, although themselves powerless to redeem from him the + memory of what he had gained. Nor could they, apparently, deprive him of + the vision of her in the fields and woods beside him, though transformed + by their magic into a new Victoria, keeping him lightly and easily at a + distance. + </p> + <p> + Scattering the sheep that flecked the velvet turf of the uplands, they + stood at length on the granite crown of the crest itself. Far below them + wound the Blue into its vale of sapphire shadows, with its hillsides of + the mystic fabric of the backgrounds of the masters of the Renaissance. + For a while they stood in silence under the spell of the scene's + enchantment, and then Victoria seated herself on the rock, and he dropped + to a place at her side. + </p> + <p> + “I thought you would like the view,” she said; “but perhaps you have been + here, perhaps I am taking you to one of your own possessions.” + </p> + <p> + He had flung his hat upon the rock, and she glanced at his serious, + sunburned face. His eyes were still fixed, contemplatively, on the Yale of + the Blue, but he turned to her with a smile. + </p> + <p> + “It has become yours by right of conquest,” he answered. + </p> + <p> + She did not reply to that. The immobility of her face, save for the one + look she had flashed upon him, surprised and puzzled him more and more—the + world—old, indefinable, eternal feminine quality of the Spring. + </p> + <p> + “So you refused to be governor? she said presently,—surprising him + again. + </p> + <p> + “It scarcely came to that,” he replied. + </p> + <p> + “What did it come to?” she demanded. + </p> + <p> + He hesitated. + </p> + <p> + “I had to go down to the capital, on my father's account, but I did not go + to the convention. I stayed,” he said slowly, “at the little cottage + across from the Duncan house where—you were last winter.” He paused, + but she gave no sign. “Tom Gaylord came up there late in the afternoon, + and wanted me to be a candidate.” + </p> + <p> + “And you refused?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “But you could have been nominated!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” he admitted; “it is probable. The conditions were chaotic.” + </p> + <p> + “Are you sure you have done right?” she asked. “It has always seemed to me + from what I know and have heard of you that you were made for positions of + trust. You would have been a better governor than the man they have + nominated.” + </p> + <p> + His expression became set. + </p> + <p> + “I am sure I have done right,” he answered deliberately. “It doesn't make + any difference who is governor this time.” + </p> + <p> + “Doesn't make any difference!” she exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + “No,” he said. “Things have changed—the people have changed. The old + method of politics, which was wrong, although it had some justification in + conditions, has gone out. A new and more desirable state of affairs has + come. I am at liberty to say this much to you now,” he added, fixing his + glance upon her, “because my father has resigned as counsel for the + Northeastern, and I have just had a talk with—Mr. Flint.” + </p> + <p> + “You have seen my father?” she asked, in a low voice, and her face was + averted. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” he answered. + </p> + <p> + “You—did not agree,” she said quickly. + </p> + <p> + His blood beat higher at the question and the manner of her asking it, but + he felt that he must answer it honestly, unequivocally, whatever the cost. + </p> + <p> + “No, we did not agree. It is only fair to tell you that we differed—vitally. + On the other hand, it is just that you should know that we did not part in + anger, but, I think, with a mutual respect.” + </p> + <p> + She drew breath. + </p> + <p> + “I knew,” she said, “I knew if he could but talk to you he would + understand that you were sincere—and you have proved it. I am glad—I + am glad that you saw him.” The quality of the sunlight changed, the very + hills leaped, and the river sparkled. Could she care? Why did she wish her + father to know that he was sincere. + </p> + <p> + “You are glad that I saw him!” he repeated. + </p> + <p> + But she met his glance steadily. + </p> + <p> + “My father has so little faith in human nature,” she answered. “He has a + faculty of doubting the honesty of his opponents—I suppose because + so many of them have been dishonest. And—I believe in my friends,” + she added, smiling. “Isn't it natural that I should wish to have my + judgment vindicated?” + </p> + <p> + He got to his feet and walked slowly to the far edge of the rock, where he + stood for a while, seemingly gazing off across the spaces to Sawanec. It + was like him, thus to question the immutable. Victoria sat motionless, but + her eyes followed irresistibly the lines of power in the tall figure + against the sky—the breadth of shoulder and slimness of hip and + length of limb typical of the men who had conquered and held this land for + their descendants. Suddenly, with a characteristic movement of + determination; he swung about and came towards her, and at the same + instant she rose. + </p> + <p> + “Don't you think we should be going back?” she said. + </p> + <p> + Rut he seemed not to hear her. + </p> + <p> + “May I ask you something?” he said. + </p> + <p> + “That depends,” she answered. + </p> + <p> + “Are you going to marry Mr. Rangely?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” she said, and turned away. “Why did you think that?” + </p> + <p> + He quivered. + </p> + <p> + “Victoria!” + </p> + <p> + She looked up at him, swiftly, half revealed, her eyes like stars + surprised by the flush of dawn in her cheeks. Hope quickened at the vision + of hope, the seats of judgment themselves were filled with radiance, and + rumour, cowered and fled like the spirit of night. He could only gaze, + enraptured. + </p> + <p> + “Yes?” she answered. + </p> + <p> + His voice was firm but low, yet vibrant with sincerity, with the vast + store of feeling, of compelling magnetism that was in the man and moved in + spite of themselves those who knew him. His words Victoria remembered + afterwards—all of them; but it was to the call of the voice she + responded. His was the fibre which grows stronger in times of crisis. Sure + of himself, proud of the love which he declared, he spoke as a man who has + earned that for which he prays,—simply and with dignity. + </p> + <p> + “I love you,” he said; “I have known it since I have known you, but you + must see why I could not tell you so. It was very hard, for there were + times when I led myself to believe that you might come to love me. There + were times when I should have gone away if I hadn't made a promise to stay + in Ripton. I ask you to marry me, because I—know that I shall love + you as long as I live. I can give you this, at least, and I can promise to + protect and cherish you. I cannot give you that to which you have been + accustomed all your life, that which you have here at Fairview, but I + shouldn't say this to you if I believed that you cared for them above—other + things.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Austen!” she cried, “I do not—I—do not! They would be + hateful to me—without you. I would rather live with you—at + Jabe Jenney's,” and her voice caught in an exquisite note between laughter + and tears. “I love you, do you understand, you! Oh, how could you ever + have doubted it? How could you? What you believe, I believe. And, Austen, + I have been so unhappy for three days.” + </p> + <p> + He never knew whether, as the most precious of graces ever conferred upon + man, with a womanly gesture she had raised her arms and laid her hands + upon his shoulders before he drew her to him and kissed her face, that + vied in colour with the coming glow in the western sky. Above the prying + eyes of men, above the world itself, he held her, striving to realize some + little of the vast joy of this possession, and failing. And at last she + drew away from him, gently, that she might look searchingly into his face + again, and shook her head slowly. + </p> + <p> + “And you were going away,” she said, “without a word I thought—you + didn't care. How could I have known that you were just—stupid?” + </p> + <p> + His eyes lighted with humour and tenderness. + </p> + <p> + “How long have you cared, Victoria?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + She became thoughtful. + </p> + <p> + “Always, I think,” she answered; “only I didn't know it. I think I loved + you even before I saw you.” + </p> + <p> + “Before you saw me!” + </p> + <p> + “I think it began,” said Victoria, “when I learned that you had shot Mr. + Blodgett—only I hope you will never do such a thing again. And you + will please try to remember,” she added, after a moment, “that I am + neither Eben Fitch nor your friend, Tom Gaylord.” + </p> + <p> + Sunset found them seated on the rock, with the waters of the river turned + to wine at the miracle in the sky their miracle. At times their eyes + wandered to the mountain, which seemed to regard them from a discreet + distance—with a kindly and protecting majesty. + </p> + <p> + “And you promised,” said Victoria, “to take me up there. When will you do + it?” + </p> + <p> + “I thought you were going away,” he replied. + </p> + <p> + “Unforeseen circumstances,” she answered, “have compelled me to change my + plans.” + </p> + <p> + “Then we will go tomorrow,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “To the Delectable Land,” said Victoria, dreamily; “your land, where we + shall be—benevolent despots. Austen?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes?” He had not ceased to thrill at the sound of his name upon her lips. + </p> + <p> + “Do you think,” she asked, glancing at him, “do you think you have money + enough to go abroad—just for a little while?” + </p> + <p> + He laughed joyously. + </p> + <p> + “I don't know,” he said, “but I shall make it a point to examine my + bank-account to-night. I haven't done so—for some time.” + </p> + <p> + “We will go to Venice, and drift about in a gondola on one of those gray + days when the haze comes in from the Adriatic and touches the city with + the magic of the past. Sometimes I like the gray days best—when I am + happy. And then,” she added, regarding him critically, “although you are + very near perfection, there are some things you ought to see and learn to + make your education complete. I will take you to all the queer places I + love. When you are ambassador to France, you know, it would be humiliating + to have to have an interpreter, wouldn't it?” + </p> + <p> + “What's the use of both of us knowing the language?” he demanded. + </p> + <p> + “I'm afraid we shall be—too happy,” she sighed, presently. + </p> + <p> + “Too happy!” he repeated. + </p> + <p> + “I sometimes wonder,” she said, “whether happiness and achievement go + together. And yet—I feel sure that you will achieve.” + </p> + <p> + “To please you, Victoria,” he answered, “I think I should almost be + willing to try.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0030" id="link2HCH0030"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXX. P.S. + </h2> + <h3> + By request of one who has read thus far, and is still curious. + </h3> + <p> + Yes, and another who, in spite of himself, has fallen in love with + Victoria and would like to linger a while longer, even though it were with + the paltry excuse of discussing that world-old question of hers—Can + sublime happiness and achievement go together? Novels on the problem of + sex nowadays often begin with marriages, but rarely discuss the happy + ones; and many a woman is forced to sit wistfully at home while her + companion soars. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Yet may I look with heart unshook + On blow brought home or missed— + Yet may I hear with equal ear + The clarions down the List; + Yet set my lance above mischance + And ride the barriere— + Oh, hit or miss, how little 'tis, + My Lady is not there!” + </pre> + <p> + A verse, in this connection, which may be a perversion of Mr. Kipling's + meaning, but not so far from it, after all. And yet, would the eagle + attempt the great flights if contentment were on the plain? Find the + mainspring of achievement, and you hold in your hand the secret of the + world's mechanism. Some aver that it is woman. + </p> + <p> + Do the gods ever confer the rarest of gifts upon him to whom they have + given pinions? Do they mate him, ever, with another who soars as high as + he, who circles higher that he may circle higher still? Who can answer? + Must those who soar be condemned to eternal loneliness, and was it a + longing they did not comprehend which bade them stretch their wings toward + the sun? Who can say? + </p> + <p> + Alas, we cannot write of the future of Austen and Victoria Vane! We can + only surmise, and hope, and pray,—yes, and believe. Romance walks + with parted lips and head raised to the sky; and let us follow her, + because thereby our eyes are raised with hers. We must believe, or perish. + </p> + <p> + Postscripts are not fashionable. The satiated theatre goer leaves before + the end of the play, and has worked out the problem for himself long + before the end of the last act. Sentiment is not supposed to exist in the + orchestra seats. But above (in many senses) is the gallery, from whence an + excited voice cries out when the sleeper returns to life, “It's Rip Van + Winkle!” The gallery, where are the human passions which make this world + our world; the gallery, played upon by anger, vengeance, derision, + triumph, hate, and love; the gallery, which lingers and applauds long + after the fifth curtain, and then goes reluctantly home—to dream. + And he who scorns the gallery is no artist, for there lives the soul of + art. We raise our eyes to it, and to it we dedicate this our play;—and + for it we lift the curtain once more after those in the orchestra have + departed. + </p> + <p> + It is obviously impossible, in a few words, to depict the excitement in + Ripton, in Leith, in the State at large, when it became known that the + daughter of Mr. Flint was to marry Austen Vane,—a fitting if + unexpected climax to a drama. How would Mr. Flint take it? Mr. Flint, it + may be said, took it philosophically; and when Austen went up to see him + upon this matter, he shook hands with his future son-in-law,—and + they agreed to disagree. And beyond this it is safe to say that Mr. Flint + was relieved; for in his secret soul he had for many years entertained a + dread that Victoria might marry a foreigner. He had this consolation at + any rate. + </p> + <p> + His wife denied herself for a day to her most intimate friends,—for + it was she who had entertained visions of a title; and it was + characteristic of the Rose of Sharon that she knew nothing of the Vanes + beyond the name. The discovery that the Austens were the oldest family in + the State was in the nature of a balm; and henceforth, in speaking of + Austen, she never failed to mention the fact that his great-grandfather + was Minister to Spain in the '30's,—a period when her own was + engaged in a far different calling. + </p> + <p> + And Hilary Vane received the news with a grim satisfaction, Dr. Tredway + believing that it had done more for him than any medicine or specialists. + And when, one warm October day, Victoria herself came and sat beside the + canopied bed, her conquest was complete: he surrendered to her as he had + never before surrendered to man or woman or child, and the desire to live + surged back into his heart,—the desire to live for Austen and + Victoria. It became her custom to drive to Ripton in the autumn mornings + and to sit by the hour reading to Hilary in the mellow sunlight in the lee + of the house, near Sarah Austen's little garden. Yes, Victoria believed + she had developed in him a taste for reading; although he would have + listened to Emerson from her lips. + </p> + <p> + And sometimes, when she paused after one of his long silences to glance at + him, she would see his eyes fixed, with a strange rapt look, on the garden + or the dim lavender form of Sawanec through the haze, and knew that he was + thinking of a priceless thing which he had once possessed, and missed. + Then Victoria would close the volume, and fall to dreaming, too. + </p> + <p> + What was happiness? Was it contentment? If it were, it might endure,—contentment + being passive. But could active, aggressive, exultant joy exist for a + lifetime, jealous of its least prerogative, perpetually watchful for its + least abatement, singing unending anthems on its conquest of the world? + The very intensity of her feelings at such times sobered Victoria—alarmed + her. Was not perfection at war with the world's scheme, and did not + achievement spring from a void? + </p> + <p> + But when Austen appeared, with Pepper, to drive her home to Fairview, his + presence never failed to revive the fierce faith that it was his destiny + to make the world better, and hers to help him. Wondrous afternoons they + spent together in that stillest and most mysterious of seasons in the hill + country—autumn! Autumn and happiness! Happiness as shameless as the + flaunting scarlet maples on the slopes, defiant of the dying year of the + future, shadowy and unreal as the hills before them in the haze. Once, + after a long silence, she started from a revery with the sudden + consciousness of his look intent upon her, and turned with parted lips and + eyes which smiled at him out of troubled depths. + </p> + <p> + “Dreaming, Victoria?” he said. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” she answered simply, and was silent once more. He loved these + silences of hers,—hinting, as they did, of unexplored chambers in an + inexhaustible treasure-house which by some strange stroke of destiny was + his. And yet he felt at times the vague sadness of them, like the sadness + of the autumn, and longed to dispel it. + </p> + <p> + “It is so wonderful,” she went on presently, in a low voice, “it is so + wonderful I sometimes think that it must be like—like this; that it + cannot last. I have been wondering whether we shall be as happy when the + world discovers that you are great.” + </p> + <p> + He shook his head at her slowly, in mild reproof. + </p> + <p> + “Isn't that borrowing trouble, Victoria?” he said. “I think you need have + no fear of finding the world as discerning as yourself.” + </p> + <p> + She searched his face. + </p> + <p> + “Will you ever change?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” he said. “No man can stand such flattery as that without + deteriorating, I warn you. I shall become consequential, and pompous, and + altogether insupportable, and then you will leave me and never realize + that it has been all your fault.” + </p> + <p> + Victoria laughed. But there was a little tremor in her voice, and her eyes + still rested on his face. + </p> + <p> + “But I am serious, Austen,” she said. “I sometimes feel that, in the + future, we shall not always have many such days as these. It's selfish, + but I can't help it. There are so many things you will have to do without + me. Don't you ever think of that?” + </p> + <p> + His eyes grew grave, and he reached out and took her hand in his. + </p> + <p> + “I think, rather, of the trials life may bring, Victoria,” he answered, + “of the hours when judgment halts, when the way is not clear. Do you + remember the last night you came to Jabe Jenney's? I stood in the road + long after you had gone, and a desolation such as I had never known came + over me. I went in at last, and opened a book to some verses I had been + reading, which I shall never forget. Shall I tell you what they were?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” she whispered. + </p> + <p> + “They contain my answer to your question,” he said. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “What became of all the hopes, + Words and song and lute as well? + Say, this struck you 'When life gropes + Feebly for the path where fell + Light last on the evening slopes, + + “'One friend in that path shall be, + To secure my step from wrong; + One to count night day for me, + Patient through the watches long, + Serving most with none to see.'” + </pre> + <p> + “Victoria, can you guess who that friend is?” + </p> + <p> + She pressed his hand and smiled at him, but her eyes were wet. + </p> + <p> + “I have thought of it in that way, too, dear. But—but I did not know + that you had. I do not think that many men have that point of view, + Austen.” + </p> + <p> + “Many men,” he answered, “have not the same reason to be thankful as I.” + </p> + <p> + There is a time, when the first sharp winds which fill the air with flying + leaves have come and gone, when the stillness has come again, and the + sunlight is tinged with a yellower gold, and the pastures are still a + vivid green, and the mountain stained with a deeper blue than any gem, + called Indian summer. And it was in this season that Victoria and Austen + were married, in a little church at Tunbridge, near Fairview, by the + bishop of the diocese, who was one of Victoria's dearest friends. Mr. + Thomas Gaylord (for whose benefit there were many rehearsals) was best + man, Miss Beatrice Chillingham maid of honour; and it was unanimously + declared by Victoria's bridesmaids, who came up from New York, that they + had fallen in love with the groom. + </p> + <p> + How describe the wedding breakfast and festivities at Fairview House, on a + November day when young ladies could walk about the lawns in the filmiest + of gowns! how recount the guests and leave out no friends—for none + were left out! Mr. Jabe Jenney and Mrs. Jenney, who wept as she embraced + both bride and groom; and Euphrasia, in a new steel-coloured silk and a + state of absolute subjection and incredulous happiness. Would that there + were time to chronicle that most amazing of conquests of Victoria over + Euphrasia! And Mrs. Pomfret, who, remarkable as it may seem, not only + recognized Austen without her lorgnette, but quite overwhelmed him with an + unexpected cordiality, and declared her intention of giving them a dinner + in New York. + </p> + <p> + “My dear,” she said, after kissing Victoria twice, “he is most + distinguished-looking—I had no idea—and a person who grows + upon one. And I am told he is descended from Channing Austen, of whom I + have often heard my grandfather speak. Victoria, I always had the greatest + confidence in your judgment.” + </p> + <p> + Although Victoria had a memory (what woman worth her salt has not?), she + was far too happy to remind Mrs. Pomfret of certain former occasions, and + merely smiled in a manner which that lady declared to be enigmatic. She + maintained that she had never understood Victoria, and it was + characteristic of Mrs. Pomfret that her respect increased in direct + proportion to her lack of understanding. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Thomas Gaylord, in a waistcoat which was the admiration of all who + beheld it, proposed the health of the bride; and proved indubitably that + the best of oratory has its origin in the heart and not in the mind,—for + Tom had never been regarded by his friends as a Demosthenes. He was + interrupted from time to time by shouts of laughter; certain episodes in + the early career of Mr. Austen Vane (in which, if Tom was to be believed, + he was an unwilling participant) were particularly appreciated. And + shortly after that, amidst a shower of miscellaneous articles and rice, + Mr. and Mrs. Vane took their departure. + </p> + <p> + They drove through the yellow sunlight to Ripton, with lingering looks at + the hills which brought back memories of boys and sorrows, and in Hanover + Street bade good-by to Hilary Vane. A new and strange contentment shone in + his face as he took Victoria's hands in his, and they sat with him until + Euphrasia came. It was not until they were well on their way to New York + that they opened the letter he had given them, and discovered that it + contained something which would have enabled them to remain in Europe the + rest of their lives had they so chosen. + </p> + <p> + We must leave them amongst the sunny ruins of Italy and Greece and + southern France, on a marvellous journey that was personally conducted by + Victoria. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Crewe was unable to go to the wedding, having to attend a directors' + meeting of some importance in the West. He is still in politics, and still + hopeful; and he was married, not long afterwards, to Miss Alice Pomfret. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + PG EDITOR'S BOOKMARKS: + + Fame sometimes comes in the line of duty + Genius is almost one hundred percent directness + In a frenzy of anticipation, garnished and swept the room + It's noble, but it don't pay + Treason to party he regarded with a deep-seated abhorrence + Battles of selfish interests ebbed and flowed + A foolish consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds + His strength was his imperviousness to this kind of a remark + Many a silent tear of which they knew nothing + Politicians are politicians; they have always been corrupt + Gratitude, however, is one of the noblest qualities of man + One of your persistent fallacies is, that I'm still a boy + The burden of the valley of vision + Thrice-blessed State, in which there were now three reform candidates + Years of regrets for that which might have been +</pre> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Mr. Crewe's Career, Complete, by Winston Churchill + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MR. CREWE'S CAREER, COMPLETE *** + +***** This file should be named 3684.txt or 3684.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/6/8/3684/ + +Produced by David Widger + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. 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