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diff --git a/old/60967-0.txt b/old/60967-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 42df294..0000000 --- a/old/60967-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,8787 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of A Change in the Cabinet, by Hilaire Belloc - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. 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. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: A Change in the Cabinet - -Author: Hilaire Belloc - -Release Date: December 19, 2019 [EBook #60967] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A CHANGE IN THE CABINET *** - - - - -Produced by Tim Lindell, David E. Brown, and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This -file was produced from images generously made available -by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.) - - - - - - - - - -A CHANGE IN THE CABINET - - - - - A CHANGE - IN THE CABINET - - BY - - H. BELLOC - - “STRIVE, STRIVE, HOWE’ER WE STRIVE - YOUTH DECLINES AT FIFTY-FIVE.” - - OLD SAW - - METHUEN & CO. - 36 ESSEX STREET W.C. - LONDON - - - - -_First Published in 1909_ - - - - - TO - MISS ALICE BEARDSLEY - - - - -A CHANGE IN THE CABINET - - - - -CHAPTER I - - -Sir--or to speak more correctly, the Right Honourable Sir T. Charles -Repton, Bart., M.V.O., O.M., Warden of the Court of Dowry, a man past -middle age but in the height of industry, sat at breakfast in his -house: a large house overlooking Hyde Park from the North, close to the -corner of the Edgware Road, and therefore removed by at least a hundred -yards from the graphic representation which marks the site of the old -Permanent Gallows that once stood at Tyburn. - -I have said that he was Warden of the Court of Dowry, and the reader, -if she has any acquaintance with parliamentary affairs, will remember -that at the time of which I speak, the month of March, 1915, that post -commonly carried with it Cabinet rank. The experienced in political -matters will certainly induce that he was also in the House of -Commons. He sat there for Pailton, a borough which had been the last -to elect him after previous experiences in Merionethshire, Kirkby, -Bruton, Powkeley and the Wymp division of Dorset, in which last his -somewhat constrained and cold manner had perhaps led to his defeat. - -It was not his first experience of office, but he had never stood so -high in the Councils of the Nation, nor had his presence in the Cabinet -ever more weighed with the young and popular Prime Minister (who was -suffering slightly from his left lung) than at this moment. For though -Charles Repton did not belong by birth to the group of families from -which the Prime Minister had sprung, he was of those who, as they -advance through life, accumulate an increasing number of clients, of -dependents and of friends who dare not trifle with such friendships. - -In figure he was tall and somewhat lean; he was clean-shaven; his -brilliant white hair was well groomed; his brown eyes were singularly -piercing, and, in contrast with his head, two thick, very dark -and strongly arched eyebrows emphasized his expression. He was by -persuasion at this time of his life a Second Day Wycliffite, and had -indeed professed his connection with that body since at least his -fortieth year, before which period in his career he had permanently -resided in a suburb of Leicester, to which in turn he had removed from -Newcastle. - -By profession he was, or rather had been, a solicitor, in which -calling he had ever advised those clients who had the wisdom to -accumulate wealth to leave the investment of it at his discretion, -nor were they disappointed in the regular receipt of a moderate but -secure income calculated at a reasonable rate; while to those who (for -whatever reason) lay under the necessity of borrowing, he was ever -ready to advance at a somewhat higher rate such sums as he had at his -disposal. - -But this humdrum course of professional life could never satisfy -abilities of his calibre. Shortly after his entry into political life -he had undertaken the management of numerous industrial ventures, -several of which had proved singularly successful, while those which -had been less fortunate came to grief through the action of others than -himself: nay it was often shown when the winding-up order came that -such risks had attracted but little of his spare cash. - -He was that morning in March, 1915, eating an egg. He had before him a -copy of the _Times_, the affairs of which newspaper were among his most -valued connections. The moments he could spare from its perusal were -given to the methodical cutting open of envelopes and the glancing at -their contents,--an exercise which it was his rule most methodically -to pursue before he permitted his secretary to deal with the answers. -Indeed some one or two of these missives he put into his pocket to be -dealt with at his private leisure. - -He was alone, for his wife--Maria, Lady Repton--would commonly affect -to come down after he had left the house; and this, no matter how late -divisions might have kept him upon the previous evening, he invariably -did at the hour of half-past nine. I may add that he had no children, -but could boast no less than five horses in town and sixteen in the -country, all his own property, and used to drag in the country I know -not how many vehicles; in London three, each suitable for its own -function. Of motor cars he kept but one, but that large and in colour -a very bright sky-blue. As he had no proficiency in riding, he did not -indulge in that exercise; but he was fond of golf and was acquainted -with all the technical terms of the game. - -To do him justice he was not without means, nay, he was what many would -call wealthy, and the salary of £5000 to which, amid the enthusiastic -cheers of the Legislature, the Wardenship of the Court of Dowry had -recently been raised was of no great consequence to his position. - -To another, alas! in the vast and heartless city, such a salary was -shortly to mean far more,--and GEORGE MULROSS DEMAINE, upon whom I -will not for the moment linger, would have been even more benefited in -pocket than in status by the handling of it. - -Careless, however, as Sir Charles Repton might be of a fringe of income -obtainable only while his own Party were in office, it was imagined -that he was not a little attached to other advantages connected with -his Wardenship. It is doubtful whether a man of this firm, reticent -and dominating character could really be attached to such accidents -of his post as the carrying of a model ship, bareheaded, in the great -procession upon Empire Day, the wearing upon state occasions of shoes -which curled up at the toe and were caught back to the ankles by small -silver chains, or the presence upon these ornaments of several tiny -bells that jingled as he walked; anachronisms of this kind can have -produced little but discomfort in one of his stern mould when, upon -the rare occasions of court functions, he was compelled to adopt the -official dress. But there was more! - -The Wardenship of the Court of Dowry carried with it something regal in -that great world of affairs in which he moved, and bitter as had been -the attacks upon his colleagues in the Nationalist Cabinet,--especially -during the futile attempt to pass the Broadening of the Streets -Bill--Sir Charles had always been treated with peculiar and exceptional -respect, though he would never have used methods so underhand as to -foreclose upon any newspaper with whom he might have a political -difference or to embarrass by official action any considerable -advertiser of patent medicines whose manufacture came under the purview -of his Department. - -It would be an exaggeration to say that he had raised one of the minor -Government posts to the level of the Foreign Office, but, at any rate, -it had under his reign become almost as prominent as it had been when -GHERKIN had first raised it to the rank of a principal function in the -State. It was one of the great spending departments; Repton saw to that. - -Sir Charles Repton prepared to leave his house, I say, at half-past -nine; his mind was intent upon the business of the morning, which -was a Board meeting of the Van Diemens. It need not yet concern the -reader, it is enough for her to know (and the knowledge is consonant -with Repton’s character) that the Company was prepared to develop all -that North-eastern littoral of the Australian Continent for which it -had obtained a charter but which no enterprise had as yet succeeded in -bringing into line with the vast energies of the Empire. - -Of the strategical advantages such a position can give, I need not -speak. Luckily they were in the hands of patriots. - -The comparatively small sum of £4,000,000 which by its charter the -Company was permitted to raise would have been subscribed twenty times -over in the rush for shares seven years before, and it is common -knowledge that at a particular moment during which values must surely -have been inflated, they reached a premium of between 800 and 900 per -cent. The cool process of reflection which often follows such errors -had by this time driven them if anything too low, and the original one -pound share which had twice all but touched £9, had been for now many -months unsaleable at a nominal price of 16/3. - -There exists a sound rule of public administration of this -country--inaugurated, I believe, by Mr. Gladstone--which forbids a -Cabinet Minister to hold any public directorship at the same time as -his official post, and indeed it is this rule which renders it usual -for a couple of men upon opposite sides of the House to come to an -arrangement whereby the one shall be Director while his colleague is in -office, lest important commercial affairs should be neglected through -the too rigid application of what is in principle so excellent a rule. -But there had been no necessity for this arrangement in the case of so -great an Imperial business as the Van Diemens: it touched too nearly -the major interests of the country for its connection with a Cabinet -Minister to be remarkable, and all patriotic opinion was sincerely glad -when, in the preceding January, Sir Charles Repton had consented to -acquire without direct purchase a few thousand shares and to take an -active part in raising the fortunes of the scheme. - -It was recognised upon all sides that the act was one of statesman-like -self-sacrifice, and there were perhaps but two papers in London (two -evening papers of large circulation but of no high standing) which so -much as alluded to Sir Charles’ labours in this field. - -Of these one, the _Moon_, catered especially for that very -considerable public which will have England mistress of the waves, -which is interested in the printed results of horse-racing, which had -formerly triumphantly carried at the polls the demand for protection, -and which was somewhat embittered by so many years of office during -which the Nationalist Party had done little more than tax the parts of -motor cars, foreign unsweetened prunes, moss litter, and such small -quantities of foreign sulphuric acid as are used in the manufacture of -beer. - -The other, the _Capon_--to give it its entire name--was of a finer -stamp. All the young enthusiasts read it, and it was enormously bought -for its Notes on Gardening, its caricatures, its clever headlines, and -its short, downright little leaders not twenty lines long, printed, by -a successful innovation, in capitals throughout, and in a red ink that -showed up finely against the plain black and white of the remainder. - -Both these papers had continually and violently attacked the connection -of one of our few great statesmen with the last of the vast enterprises -of Empire. The _Capon_, whose editor was a young man with very wild -eyes and hair like a weeping willow, attacked it on principle. The -_Moon_--whose proprietor was an intimate friend of Sir Charles’ -own--was more practical, and attacked the connection between Repton and -the Company with good old personalities worthy of a more virile age. - -Well then, at this hour of half-past nine on that March day of 1915, -Charles Repton rose from his breakfast. He touched the crumbs upon -his waistcoat so that they fell, and those upon his trousers also. He -looked severely at the footman in the hall, who quailed a little at -that glance, he rapidly put on his coat unaided, and asked briefly to -see the butler. - -The butler came. - -“I’m out to lunch.” - -“Yes, Sir Charles.” - -“Tell Parker that if one of my letters is ever left again on the table -after I have gone, I shall speak to Lady Repton.” - -“Yes, Sir Charles.” - -“The car is not to be used on any account.” - -“No, Sir Charles.” - -He turned round abruptly and went down the steps and into the street, -while one of his large footmen shut the huge door ever so gently behind -him. - -He was a man of such character, who conducted his household so firmly, -that the man, though now five months in his service, dared exchange no -jest with the butler who went quietly off to his own part of the house -again. It was a singular proof of what rigid domestic government can do. - -From her room Maria, Lady Repton, when she was quite sure that her -husband was gone, slunk downstairs. With a cunning that was now a -trifle threadbare, she discovered from Parker the housekeeper, from the -secretary, from the butler, by methods which she fondly believed to be -indirect, what plans her husband had formed for the day. She sighed -to learn that she might not have the car, for she had designed to go -and see her dear old friend widow, Mrs. Hulker, formerly of Newcastle, -now of Ealing, a woman of great culture and refinement and one who gave -Maria, Lady Repton, nearly all her information upon books and life. Of -course there was always the Tube and the Underground, but they greatly -wearied this elderly lady, and it was too far to drive. She sighed a -little at her husband’s order. - -He, meanwhile, was out in Oxford Street, and with the rapidity that -distinguishes successful men, had decided not to take a motor-bus but -to walk. The March day was cold and clear and breezy, and he went -eastward at a happy gait. He did not need to be at his work until close -upon eleven, and even that he knew to be full early for at least one -colleague, the stupidest of all the Directors, a certain Bingham, upon -whose late rising he counted. For the intolerable tedium of arguing -against a man who invariably took the unintelligent side was one of -the few things which caused Sir Charles to betray some slight shade of -impatience. - -The day pleased him, as indeed it pleased the greater part of London, -from its fineness. He walked upon the sunny side of the street, and his -smile, though restrained and somewhat sadly dignified, was the more -genial from the influence of the weather. His brain during this brief -exercise was not concerned, as those ignorant of our great men might -imagine, with affairs of State, nor even with the choice of investments -upon which he was in so short a time to determine. He was occupied -rather in planning (for his power of organisation was famous) how -exactly he should fit in his engagements for the day. - -A Board meeting, especially if there is any chance of long argument -with a late riser of exceptional stupidity, may last for an indefinite -time. He gave it an hour and a half. - -Then he must lunch, and that hour was earmarked for a certain foreigner -who could not wholly make up his mind whether to build a certain bridge -over a certain river for a certain government or no. - -By a quarter to three he must be in the House of Commons to answer -questions, for those which fell to his share came early upon the paper, -and it was the pride of this exact and efficient man to keep no one -waiting. Before four he must see the manager of a bank; the matter -was urgent, he did not wish to write or telephone. By five he must be -back again in his room in the House of Commons to receive a deputation -of gentlemen who would arrive from his distant constituency, and who -proposed with a mixture of insistence and of fear to demand certain -commercial advantages for their town at the expense of a neighbouring -borough whose representative but rarely busied himself with the Great -Council of the Nation. - -At six he must order with particular care a dinner upon which (in his -opinion) the chances of the Saltoon Development largely depended. At -seven he must dress, at eight he must dine. His guests (many of whom to -his knowledge would drink to excess) would certainly detain him till -long after ten. He must be back in the House to vote at eleven; for -some half-hour or so after eleven he must be present to attend a short -debate (or what he hoped would prove a short debate) concerning his own -Department. He would be lucky if he was in bed by twelve. - -Let the reader leave him there walking in Oxford Street and turn her -attention to George Mulross Demaine, or rather, to Mount Popocatapetl. - - - - -CHAPTER II - - -It will generally be conceded that an underground river flowing with -terrific force through a region of perennial fire, must, of its nature, -form a most insecure foundation for any large body of masonry; and the -danger of building upon such a bottom will be the more apparent if the -materials used in the construction of the edifice be insufficiently -cemented through the business capacity of a contractor indifferent to -the voice of conscience. - -Yet such were the conditions upon the flanks of Mt. Popocatapetl when, -in the Autumn of 1914, it was determined to erect on such a site the -Popocatapetl Dam, for the containment of the Popocatapetl reservoir and -the ultimate irrigation of El Plan. - -Mt. Popocatapetl rises in a graceful cone to the height of 22,130 -feet above the level of the sea. Its summit is crowned with eternal -snows, while round its base, in spite of numerous earthquakes, -constantly followed by the outburst of vast fountains of boiling water, -cling a score of towns and villages, some with Spanish, others with -unpronounceable names. To these the beneficent and lengthy rule of -Gen. Porfirio Diaz has lent a political security which Nature would -do well to copy,--has led the inhabitants to seek their treasure upon -earth, and has bequeathed the inestimable advantage of the great -Popocatapetl Dam. - -I say the “inestimable advantage,” for though the construction of this -remarkable barrage has wholly cut off the insufficient water supply of -this region, it has brought into the neighbourhood very considerable -sums of American money, an active demand for labour, and a line of -railway at the terminus of which can be purchased the most enlightened -newspapers of the New World. The simplest journalist,--should -such a being be possessed of the means to travel in these distant -regions--might also inform the residents,--should they in turn be -willing to hear him patiently,--that the irrigation of El Plan, though -150 miles distant from their now desiccated homes, can not but react to -their advantage and create a market for their wares. - -Mysterious designs of Providence! This mountain (among the noblest -of volcanic phenomena) was destined to threaten with ruin a great -English family, to precipitate onto the Treasury bench a young man of -unassuming manners and of insufficient capacity, to shake half the -finances of the world, and to determine a peerage for a man to whom -such ornaments were baubles! - -To appreciate by what chain of circumstances Popocatapetl’s hoary head -might with its nod produce so distant a consequence, it is necessary -for the reader once again to fix her mind most firmly upon the truth -that an underground river flowing with terrific force through a region -of perennial fire, must of its nature form a most insecure foundation -for any considerable body of masonry, and that the danger of building -upon such a bottom will be the more apparent if the material used, etc. - - * * * * * - -In the light of this knowledge, which (in common with the majority -of rational beings) Ole Man Benson possessed, an investment in the -stocks of a Company whose dividends depended upon the security of such -an edifice might have seemed to those ill-acquainted with our modern -Captains of Industry, an unpardonable folly. - -It is none the less true that Ole Man Benson carried a heavy load of -“Popocatapetls,” naked and unashamed. - -He did not positively control Popocatapetls. Heaven forbid! But apart -from a considerable block of which he was the actual owner, no small -fraction was held by the Durango Investment Company, the majority of -whose shares being the property of the Texas and Western Equalisation -Syndicate, gave to Ole Man Benson in his capacity of Chief Equaliser, -a distant but effective control over the second lot of Popocatapetls -in question; while the very large investment of which the N.N.O. and -S.L. Line had made at his command of their reserve funds in the same -company, gave him in his capacity of Chief Terroriser thereof yet a -third grip upon the venture. - -One way and another Ole Man Benson stood in for Popocatapetls in -a manner as healthy as it was unmistakable. And strangely enough, -the fiercer the perennial fires and the louder the roaring of the -subterranean river, the more steadily did Popocatapetls rise, the more -sublimely did Wall Street urge their ascension, the more vigorously -did the American investor (who was alone concerned) buy as he was told -until, upon a certain day, a great Republican statesman of undoubted -integrity but of perhaps too high an idealism, was announced to speak -upon the great national enterprise. - -Ole Man Benson loved, trusted and revered this statesman and supported -him in every way: his name escapes me, but upon his decision the future -of the undertaking would without question lie; and such was the bond -between the two men that the politician had not hesitated to receive -from the capitalist certain rough notes which had been jotted down in -the office for the supreme verdict which was to be delivered to the -nation. - -It was to be delivered at Washington upon a certain Wednesday (the date -is memorable) at the unconventional hour of ten, in order that a full -report of it might reach the foolish and the wise in New York City in -ample time for its effects to be fully felt upon the markets; and _Ole -Man Benson_ had given instructions to sell not later than half-past -three of that same fateful Wednesday. - -But what, you cry (if such is your habit), what of all this in -connection with the ancient houses of this land? With the Cabinet? With -peerages and the rest? - -Tut! Have you never heard how sensitive is the modern world to every -breath of commercial news, and how all the modern world is one? Well -then, I must explain: - -Some two years before, in London, one GEORGE MULROSS DEMAINE had lain -languishing for lack of money. - -He was of good birth, and doubtless had he possessed a secure -and flowing fortune, his natural diffidence would have been less -pronounced, and the strange fatality by which he could hardly place his -hands and feet in any position without causing some slight accident to -the furniture, would have passed unnoticed, or would have been put down -to good nature. But George Mulross was wholly devoid of means. - -George Mulross Demaine, like so many of his rank, was related to Mary -Smith. - -Now Mary Smith, her pleasing, energetic person, her lively eyes and -dear soul, the reader can never fully know unless she has perused or -rather learned by heart, that entrancing work, “Mr. Clutterbuck’s -Election,” in which, like a good fairy, she plumps across the scene -and is perceived to be the friend, the confidant, the cousin, the -sister-in-law or the aunt of at least three-quarters of what counts in -England. - -She will not feel, I say, unless she has made that work her bible, how -from St. James’s Place Mary Smith blessed Society with her jolly little -hands, and indulged in the companionship of characters as varied as the -Peabody Yid and Victoria Mosel. - -What a woman! Her little shooting-box in Scotland! Her place in the -West Country! The country house which she so rarely visited in the -Midlands but which she lent in the freest manner! Her vivacity, her -charm, her go, her scraps of French--her inheritance from her late -husband, himself an American and Smith, as I need hardly say, by name! - -The reader unacquainted with the Work which I refer her to, must -further have introduced to her at the proper place the notable figure -of cousin William Bailey, at what an expense of repetition upon my part -I need hardly say. He also was of the gang; he also had been elected of -the people: but violent eccentricities now kept him apart from his true -world. Thus he professed a vast interest in Jews, making them out to -be the secret masters of England. How far that fanaticism was sincere, -he could not himself have told you. It diverted him hugely to discover -mares’ nests of every kind; he was never happier than when he was -tracking the relationship between governing families or the connection -of some spotless politician with a spotted financial adventure. There -was but one excuse for his manias, that he remained, through the most -ardent pursuit of them, a genial cynic. We shall meet him again. - -Mary Smith, then, was related to all of them and they were all related -to each other, and in their relationship there was friendship also, and -they governed England and the taxes bore them on. - -That the Leader of the Opposition should be Mary Smith’s close friend -goes without saying; much closer and dearer to her was her other -cousin, the young and popular Prime Minister, to his friends Dolly, to -the world a more dignified name, who suffered slightly from his left -lung. He had attained his high position before his fiftieth year was -closed. For over four years he had conducted with consummate skill the -fortunes of the Nationalist Party, and was at that very moment when -Popocatapetl nursed so sullenly its internal rage, piloting in distant -Westminster the Broadening of the Streets Bill through an excited -session of Parliament. - -But of all her relatives, near or distant, of all the friends whom she -called by their Christian name, not the Chancellor of the Exchequer, -not the First Sea Lord, not the six chief members of the front -Opposition bench, not the eight or nine disappointed men with corner -seats, not the score or so of great financiers whom she honoured at -her board,--not the Secretary of State for the Colonies (a diminished -post since the Sarawatta business),--not the young and popular Prime -Minister himself, who suffered slightly from the left lung,--was quite -so dear to her as that sort of nephew, George Mulross Demaine. - -The relationship was distant, and it was less on account of the ties of -blood than by reason of the strong friendship that had always existed -between his father and herself that Mary Smith first befriended the lad -as she had already befriended so many others. For Demaine’s father, -though what the world would call a failure and even for many years -separated from his wife, had always exercised a peculiar charm over his -acquaintance. - -Opinion had been sharply divided upon several episodes of his life, so -sharply that towards the close of it he preferred to live abroad, and -George’s boyhood had been passed in the most uneasy of experiences, now -with his father in Ireland, now with his mother in the neighbourhood of -Constantinople, and occasionally under the roof of Mary Smith during -her short married life. - -She had grown to do for him what she would not do for another--for -Charlie Fitzgerald for instance,--for he was not a scatterbrain nor -one to get rid of money with nothing to show for it. He was simply a -quiet, unostentatious English lad, a little awkward (as we know) with -his hands and feet but hiding a heart of gold, and destined to inherit -nothing. He was not yet of age when his mother died, and during the -first years of his manhood he passed more and more time under the -roof of this kindly and powerful woman who had determined that the -misfortunes or faults of his parents should not be visited upon him. - -She took him everywhere, she kept him in pocket money and, most -important of all, two years ago she had arranged his marriage. - -The moment was opportune: he was twenty-five, he had lost his father, -he was penniless, the title of Grinstead into which he would certainly -come was distant and was unprovided for. He had not chosen, or rather -had not been given, the opportunity of entering, the army, but -there had been just enough bungling about that to make him miss the -university also. He was so unfitted for diplomacy that even William -Bailey, who was accustomed to recommend for that profession the least -vivacious of his young friends, shook his head when it was proposed, -and after a very short experience in Paris he was withdrawn from it. - -No profession naturally proposed itself to a man of his talents, and -he had not the initiative to live as a free lance. His marriage, -therefore, was one of these providential things which seemed to fit -almost too exactly into the general scheme of life to be true. He -met his wife when Mary Smith (after making all her inquiries at the -Petheringtons’) had caught and branded that heiress: and the wife so -branded was Sudie Benson, the daughter of so wealthy an American as -made the traffic of London not infrequently halt for his convenience, -and who rather more than two years before my story bursts open, had -seen fit to bring the radiant girl to London. - -The two were forcibly introduced--I mean the boy and the girl--they -understood from the first what their destiny was to be. She could -find no fault in the society which swam round her and to which such -a marriage would introduce her activities; he saw no drawback to the -alliance save one or two mannerisms in his prospective father-in-law, -which time might modify--or on the other hand, might not. - -Ole Man Benson, to give him once more the name by which he was known -and hated in another sphere, from the first ten thousand[1] which by -the age of forty-three he had laboriously accumulated in shredded -codfish, had dealt not with things, as do lesser men, but with figures. -He had gone boldly forward like a young Napoleon, using, it must be -remembered, not only the money of others but very often his own as well. - -He had been born of Scotch-Irish parents, probably of the name of -Benson, and certainly married in the First Baptist Church of Cincinnati -not quite three-quarters of a century ago. He was the youngest child of -a numerous family, and was baptized or named after the poet Theocritus, -with a second or middle name of Chepstow, which in his signature he -commonly reduced to its initial letter. - -Theocritus C. Benson, now familiar to the whole Anglo-Saxon race of -every colour and clime, was of that type always rare but now, though -rare, conspicuous, which can so organise and direct the acts of others -as to bring order out of chaos, chaos out of order, and alternately -accumulate and disperse fortunes hitherto unprecedented in the history -of the world. - -He was accustomed (in the interviews which he was proud to grant to -the newspapers of England, America and the Colonies) to ascribe his -great position to unwearied industry and to an abhorrence of all excess -(notably in the consumption of fermented liquors) and particularly of -the horrid practice of gambling. His puritan upbringing, which had -taught him to look upon cards as the Devil’s picture-book, and upon -racing as akin to the drama in its spiritual blight, was, he would -constantly assert, the key to all that he had done since he left his -father’s home. But in this manly self-judgment the Hon. Mr. Benson did -himself an injustice. These high qualities are to be discovered in many -million of his fellow-citizens, and he might as well have pointed, as -sometimes he did point with pride, to the number of his Lodge or to his -ignorance of foreign languages as the causes of his repeated triumphs. - -There was more: To his hatred of hazard and to his stern sense of duty -and unbending industry, he added something of that daring which has -made for the greatness of the blood in all its adventures Overseas, -and for no branch more than for the Scotch-Irish. - -He would boldly advance sums in blind confidence of the future, the -mere total of which would have appalled a lesser man, and he would as -boldly withdraw them to the ruin of prosperous concerns, where another -would have been content to let production take its own course. And this -fine command of cash and of credit which he used as a General uses an -army, had in it something of personal courage; for towards the latter -part of his life, when he had come to control a vast private fortune, -it was imperative that in many a bold conception he himself should -stand to lose or gain. - -At the moment when his only daughter left her happy Belgian convent to -be presented at the Court of St. James, he was, though at the height of -his fortunes, a lonely and to some extent an embittered man. - -His wife had married another: their only child he had not seen for -three years, and though he knew that her robust common sense would -stand against the religious environment of the gentle nuns who had been -entrusted with her upbringing, yet he could not but feel that she had -passed the most formative years of her life in an alien air, and under -influences quite other than those of the Ohio Valley. - -He had therefore determined to decline numerous and advantageous offers -and to be present himself in London during the season which saw her -introduction to the world, and there, in spite of his unfamiliarity -with English ways, he soon appreciated the central position of Mary -Smith whose late husband indeed he had come across a quarter of a -century before when he was freezing the Topekas off the Pit. - -Theocritus C. Benson had seen young Demaine and was contented; he was -also naturally anxious to come across old Lord Grinstead if possible, -that he might estimate for himself how long his daughter might have -to wait for her title. Indeed he would not allow the marriage to take -place until the old man had been pointed out to him, shrivelled almost -to nothingness and pulled with extreme caution and deliberation in a -bath-chair through the private gardens of Bayton House. - -Had he known that the figure thus exhibited to him so far from being -that of the aged peer was but the carcase of a ruined dependant it -would perhaps have done little to alter his decision, for though Lord -Grinstead was of gigantic stature, with purple face and thunderous -voice, yet his habit of gross and excessive drinking gave him a tenure -of life at least as precarious as that of the enfeebled figure upon -which the financier had gazed; and what is more, Lord Grinstead, though -an execrable horseman, had suddenly begun to hunt upon hired mounts -with a recklessness and tenacity which, if from that cause alone, -should speedily ensure a violent death. - -When all was happily settled, when Demaine had been given away by his -principal creditor, and Sudie by her upright and handsome old father, -when the last of the wedding gifts had been exchanged at the usual -discount and the young couple had gone off to Honiton Castle which had -been lent them for £2000 during the honeymoon, another aspect of life -had to be considered. - -A point upon which Mary Smith had done her best and failed was the -settlements--£1500 a year to stand between his child and starvation -or worse, Theocritus was willing to determine. It was the sum he -had himself named before the first negotiations were begun; but as -they proceeded he refused to change it by one penny, and at last the -discussion was abandoned in despair. All the young people might need -they should have--she was his only child, they could trust him to be -more than generous. Capital sums when they were required for anything -but direct investment, should be always at their disposal, and the half -or more than the half of his enormous income should be ready to their -call; but he resolutely retained to himself the right to control the -management of all save the infinitesimal sum which was to stand between -Sudie and her husband’s tyranny, or the world’s harshness. - -Mary Smith’s veiled threats and open flattery were alike useless. She -capitulated, told the young woman to earmark her tiny allowance for -journeys, and gained from Theocritus Chepstow only this:--that he would -buy a freehold for them, build and furnish it. Theocritus was on like -a bird; and the lovely little lodge which London now knows as Demaine -House, with its curious formal gardens, odd Dutch stables and Grecian -weathercock on the site of the old mews in what is now Benson Street, -is the proof that he kept his promise. - -For a year Ole Man Benson had not only kept his promise in the way of -building and furnishing for the young people: he had done more. He had -floated them upon London with all the revenue that could be reserved -from the new venture upon which he designed to double the colossal sums -which directly or indirectly stood to his name, and every penny that he -could spare from his first early purchases of Popocatapetls went into -the status and future social position of his daughter. Now, after two -years, Popocatapetl Dam was finished and yet greater things lay before -them. - -Demaine was put into Parliament by a majority comparable only to the -financial advantages which had secured it. His birth, her voice and its -timbre, gathered into Demaine House all that so small a Great House -could hold. - -So things had stood to within a week of the March day upon which we -saw that very different man, Charles Repton, walking into the City of -London.... - -But from the name of Charles Repton let me rapidly slew off to the -sombre pyramid of that peak in the neighbourhood of Darien and recall -the caprice of Popocatapetl upon which so much was to depend. - -It was a Wednesday in that March of 1915 that the Statesman was to -speak in Washington at ten: (for two years Demaine House had thriven, -it slept that Tuesday night unconscious of its fate). It was for the -Wednesday at 3.30 that the order to sell stood in Ole Man Benson’s -name.... Well ... - - - - -CHAPTER III - - -Late upon that Tuesday night Ole Man Benson boarded the Louis XV. -Rosewood Express de Luxe as it steamed out of the Chicago Depot of the -M.N. & C.: he was off to his mountain property in Idaho, and in the -privacy of his section, Ole Man Benson slept. - -Not so the forces of Nature, so often destructive of the schemes of -pigmy man! - -An appalling convulsion altogether exceeding anything heard or dreamt -of since the beginning of time, totally destroyed the Popocatapetelian -landscape in the small hours of that same morning; and as, a thousand -miles to the north, the Louis XV. Rosewood Express de Luxe rolled in a -terrific manner upon its insufficient rock ballast, the subterranean -river, the perennial fires and the unscrupulously erected edifice of -the great dam, shot aloft in a vast confusion and were replaced by a -chasm some quarter of a mile in breadth and of a depth unfathomable to -mortal plummets. It was March; March 1915. In Iowa in March it snows. -The locomotive and two of the cars attached to the Louis XV. Rosewood -Express de Luxe were buried a little beyond Blucher in a drift of snow -the height and dimensions of which exceeded the experience of the -oldest settler in that charming prairie town. _The same storm which had -caused the misadventure had broken the wires for many miles around._ - -Ole Man Benson awoke, therefore, to a scene of great discomfort, but -upon such a date and with a prospect of so considerable an increase -of fortune awaiting him upon that very day, he was the gayest of the -company, and in spite of his years he shovelled away with the best of -them, a-splendid-type-of-Anglo-Saxon-manhood. - -By one o’clock that noon the telegraph at last was working, and the -first messages came through to the little depot; they concerned a riot -in a local home for paralytics. Next, before two, news was conveyed of -an outbreak of religious mania in the town of Omaha. It was not till a -late hour in the evening that Ole Man Benson, waiting anxiously for the -report of the great speech, heard the earliest tidings of the practical -joke which Providence--in spite of Gen. Porfirio Diaz’ equable and -masterly rule--had played him in the distant tropics. - -The same rapidity of thought which had enabled Theocritus to accumulate -his vast fortune enabled him in that moment to perceive that he was -ruined. Not indeed necessarily for ever,--he had known such things -before--but at any rate in a manner sufficiently hefty to produce his -immediate collapse. - -When, next morning, he could bring himself to read the papers, the -disaster appeared before him in its exact proportions and tremendous -scale. - -That speech, that statesman-like speech, had never been delivered--and -for the best of reasons: Popocatapetl had unbosomed first! In the wild -fall of prices nothing had done more to ruin the market than the heavy -selling of agents acting on account of Theocritus C. Benson. There -were dozens within the roaring walls of the building in Wall Street, -thousands in the anxious streets without, who saw in the Benson selling -yet another move of diabolical cunning proceeding from that Napoleonic -brain. His agents had done their work thoroughly and well. They had -anticipated his orders with such promptitude that no stock was left -unsaleable upon their hands, and when, before the end of that black -day, Popocatapetls were offering at the cost of haulage, they could -proudly say that every interest of their client’s in the ruined concern -had been disposed of. And Theocritus C. Benson, henceforward known as -the Earthquake King, was left with no unsaleable paper upon his hands, -but on the contrary with a solid cash result equivalent to at least -three cents on the dollar of his yesterday’s fortune. This it is to be -faithfully served in the intricacies of modern speculation! - -A truce to Ole Man Benson! If I have introduced his wretched -commercial adventures at such length it is but to explain the -portentous effect which they had upon the fortunes of one British -statesman. - -Far off in London (Eng.) George Mulross Demaine saw nothing in his -morning newspaper but the news (to him a serious matter) that Pink Eye -was scratched for the Grand National. His wife, whom her father had -shielded from the vulgar atmosphere of commerce, noted indeed the news -from the Western Hemisphere and was for a passing moment concerned; but -Ole Man Benson did not telegraph, for there were no flies upon him, nor -did Ole Man Benson even write, and for the same entomological reason. - -Oh! no. Ole Man Benson proceeded to New York, had certain interviews -with certain people, took certain drugs, went through a certain cure, -laid as he hoped the foundations of yet another scheme, and not until -30th of March, a full week after the matter I have described, did -Theocritus dictate a brief note to his daughter, which I will here -transcribe: - - - (If not delivered, please return “2909 KANAKA BUILDING - within three days to NEW YORK CITY - Theocritus C. Benson.) 30/3/’15 - -Coming across on Potassic. Depart 4th--probable arrival Plymouth 11th. -Shall cable. - (Signed) FATHER” - -With true business instinct the great organiser dispatched the cable -upon the 4th of April, so that his daughter received upon the evening -of the same day in her London house the reassuring word “eleventh,” -which her reception of the letter a few days later easily enabled her -to comprehend; and on 11th of April, sure enough, Ole Man Benson in -a grave and sober manner embraced his daughter on the landing-stage -at Plymouth. George Mulross Demaine was also there, standing a little -behind the affectionate group, clothed in a large green ulster and a -cap of the same cloth and colour with an enormous peak. - -They got into the train together and all the way up to London the -master of empty millions said nothing. - -As they were driving to Demaine House he spoke: “Any o’ your folk to -supper?” he said. - -His daughter with filial gaiety assured him that she had waited his -orders, to which he replied, “Good girl Sudie.” - -During the meal he was as silent as he had been upon the journey, and -at the end of it he gave his son-in-law to understand that he desired -to talk business with his daughter and preferred to be alone with her: -and George Mulross went out, taking his wine with him, for his wife’s -father drank none, but only Toxine. - -The message Ole Man Benson had to deliver to Sudie was simple -enough: there would, for he could not say how long, be no more money -forthcoming. He hoped the position might be retrieved; he was -confident it would be retrieved before the Fall, by Thanksgiving at -latest. Till then, nit! - -Sudie had all her father’s readiness; she pointed out to him at once -that under the conditions of English politics the total cessation of -an income the source of which was familiar to her husband’s friends, -would at once affect her father’s credit in future transactions, and -clearly showed that no investment could be more to his advantage than -the placing of sums at her disposal for the proper up-keep of his -daughter’s position in the society of London. - -To this powerful argument Theocritus immediately replied that those who -looked for hens’ teeth were liable to be stung; that cigars containing -explosive matter had been offered him too frequently in the past for -him now to entertain the thought of consuming them; and that when he -was bulling London he would advise. By which parables he intended to, -and did, convey to his daughter his fixed conclusion that it was up to -her to bear futures: and lest she should have failed wholly to seize -his point, he told her briefly and in the plainest terms that whatever -rocks were going were wanted--badly--to sling at something with more -dough in it than Mayfair. - -With that their brief discourse was ended. - -This little conversation over, Demaine was given to understand that -he might re-enter the room. He was a little shy in doing so, for -interviews of this sort usually meant some new gift or subsidy, but it -was shyness of a pleasant sort and he had little doubt that he should -hear in a moment the extent or at least the nature of the new bounty -which his young household was to receive. He was therefore only puzzled -by the novelty of phrasing when his father-in-law, looking at him in a -manner rather humorous than severe, remarked: - -“Well, I’ve stacked it up with Sudie, and she may stack it up with -you.” Then in a kinder tone, he added: “You catch?” - -“Yes sir,” said George untruthfully. - -“Why then, ’nuff’s said,” concluded the Captain of Industry, and very -thoughtfully he picked his teeth with a long fine silver point which -he habitually carried in his waistcoat for that purpose of the toilet. -“It’s no call ter last long,” he muttered half to himself and half to -the bewildered Demaine; “anyhow the pump’s sucking; and there’s no more -oil,”--to elucidate which somewhat cryptic phrase Sudie begged her -husband not to stand gaping there like a booby, but to sit down and -understand as much of it as he could. - -Whereupon in the clearest possible language, punctuated by her father’s -decisive and approving nods, she translated into older idioms exactly -what had happened, and exactly what it meant. They were worth just -£1500 a year between them from that day onwards for--well, till there -was a change. - -It was not tact but nervousness that prevented George at the end of -this dreadful passage from suggesting that his father-in-law could do -again what he had done before, that the strain was temporary, and that -he for his part hoped for the best; but his wife, who was by this time -fairly well accustomed to follow his thought, was careful to point out -that whatever the future might do for them, the present was dirt black, -and the present meant at least two years: - -“At least two years?” (to her father). - -To which her father very simply and plainly answered her: “Yep.” - -There was much of the splendid blood of Theocritus in Sudie; indeed it -is often observed that the genius of the father will descend to the -daughter--and _vice versa_. The very next sentence, therefore, with -which Sudie prodded her disconsolate spouse, was a demand for a list of -those who might be ready to take Demaine House, to take it at once, to -take it furnished, to take it high, to take it by the year and not for -the season, and, when they had taken it, to _pay_. - -Demaine immediately suggested the name of such of his acquaintance as -might most desire to occupy such a position in London, and were also -least able to do so, but he was careful to add after each name, some -such remark as “But of course they won’t do,” or “but I don’t think he -can afford it,”--until his father-in-law in a pardonable lassitude went -out. - -“The best thing you can do,” said his wife with renewed decision when -they were alone, “is to get up right here and go round to Mary’s.” For -it was a notable circumstance in Sudie’s relations with Mrs. Smith -that while that lady gave _her_ her full title, _she_ would invariably -allude to Mrs. Smith by the more affectionate medium of the Christian -name. - -Demaine assented. He found his father-in-law at the door; they went -out together into the night, and when he had timidly admitted that he -was going South towards St. James’s, the financier with rapid decision -announced that he was going North towards Marylebone,--and they parted. - -Mary Smith was not in. It was only eleven and the theatre detained -her. George waited. He took counsel from several valuable pictures, -was careful to touch and handle nothing upon her tables (for he knew -that she detested an accident and with almost-canine-sagacity could -invariably detect his interference), and stood, not at ease. - -She came in at twelve; she brought a party with her, and she insisted -upon supper. It was one before she could talk to him alone, and she -talked to him until two. - -The first thing she did was to tell him that he could not let his house -that season and that he must make up his mind to it. The second was to -discover what balance there was at the bank--and to hear that it was -pitifully small. The third was to offer him a short loan that would -carry him over at least a few weeks of necessary expense, and the -fourth to tell him that, not upon the morrow but upon the day after, -she would have decided. - -Meanwhile he must post a letter for her. - -She sat down and wrote at once to William Bailey. - -“When you get outside, George,” she said as she gave him the letter, -“you will see a very large pillar box. It is much larger than most -pillar boxes; it has two slits in it instead of one. Do you follow me?” - -“Yes,” he said humbly. - -“You will not put this letter in your pocket, George,” she went on -firmly and kindly, as certain practitioners do when they propose to -hypnotise their patients. “You will carry it in front of you like -this.” She put it into his right hand, crooked his arm, held his wrist -upright, so that his eyes could not help falling upon the missive. “The -moment you get outside you will put it in the _right_-hand slit of the -pillar box, won’t you?” - -He said “yes” again, as humbly as before. And as he went out he did all -that she had asked him, though to make the matter more sure she watched -for a moment from the window. - -When William Bailey received the letter next morning he was in the -best of moods. For one thing he was going to leave London for three -weeks,--a prospect that always delighted him. For another he was going -to do some sea fishing, a sport of which he was passionately fond. -For a third, an Austrian money-lender and a baron at that, had shot -himself--it had of course been kept out of the English papers, but he -had read all the details in one of the anti-semitic rags which are the -disgrace of Vienna, and his spirits had risen, buoyant at the news. -Finally, and what was of perhaps most importance for an eccentric and -middle-aged celibate, the house which he had hired for a month he knew -exactly suited him. It was the house of Merry, the architect, and stood -just so far from Parham Town as would give him the isolation he adored, -yet just so near to Parham Harbour as would put him in touch with the -sea. - -For all these reasons he read Mary Smith’s little note in great gaiety -of heart, and in a mood in which men of influence are willing to do -what they can for their kind. - -Like many men of wealth and ability whom opportunity has made -eccentric, William Bailey could not bear to handle the pen. He -hesitated for some moments between the extreme boredom of writing and -the tantalising business of the telephone, decided in favour of the -former, wrote on a form-- - - “Get Dolly to make room for him. - - (Signed) BILL”-- - -and sent the message out to be telegraphed to his cousin. - -Mary Smith, receiving it, received with it a great light. - -It was not always easy for her to follow the changes that took place in -political appointments, but she was certain of _this_, that the present -administration contained more unfamiliar names than she cared to think -of, and that there _must_ be room in such a crowd for a man of poor -George’s standing. - -Now from the moment that such thoughts as these entered Mary Smith’s -head about a man’s appointment, that man was safe: poor George’s future -was therefore ultimately secure. But there was no time to lose. He -must get on to the front bench, and he must get there with a salary, -and the salary must be sufficient, and the promotion must be rapid. -She remembered that Dolly would be at the Petheringtons’ that evening, -and she determined to be there too. She hoped and prayed that nothing -would bring George, though since George was everywhere the chances were -against her prayer being answered. - -For the moment she thought of warning him not to come, then, -remembering certain indiscretions of his in the past, she thought it -best to say nothing, but to trust to chance. - - - - -CHAPTER IV - - -Charles Repton, manifold as were his financial interests, knew nothing -of Popocatapetls, and cared less. - -The manner in which his life was to be influenced by that very distant -cataclysm was hidden from him; as (for that matter) it would be hidden -from the reader also had not this book been most boldly published. - -Yet another thing the full import of which may escape the reader, is -the fact that Sir Charles Repton was extremely tender just behind the -ears; but for this the reader herself alone and not the author is to -blame, for if the reader had any knowledge of Caryll’s Ganglia she -would have guessed at twenty things. But no matter: Caryll’s Ganglia -and their effect upon self-control very much interrupt the chain of -those absorbing adventures which, if she will continue, the reader will -presently peruse. - -Anyhow, those regions of the head which lie behind either ear were for -some reason or other very tender, large, sensitive to pressure, and in -a way abnormal in Sir Charles Repton. - -When, therefore, somewhere about the corner of Tottenham Court Road -(on that March day on which we left him walking to his Board meeting), -his hat blew off: when he had run after it: when in doing so he had -ruffled his fine crop of white hair; and when, to have it all set -right, he had gone into a second-rate barber’s, it may well be imagined -that he gave the man who served him minute instructions that the head -rest upon the back of the chair should be made comfortable--and so it -was. And on to it Sir Charles Repton leant gingerly the head upon whose -clear action depended the future fortunes of Van Diemens. - -The man in brushing his hair with an apparatus of singular power, -turned the monologue on to the commonplaces of the moment, which -included the bestiality of the Government and the abhorrent nature -of the Italian people, of whom at that particular moment in 1915 the -people of London stood in abject terror. - -Whether it was the pressure of the violent rotating brush or some -looseness in the screw that held the support behind him, with a shock -and a clang that support slipped, and Sir Charles Repton’s head came -smartly down, first through nothingness and then on to two iron nuts -which exactly corresponded to those processes of the skull just -behind either ear, in which, as I have taken pains to remark, he was -peculiarly sensitive: for they were largely developed in him and -nourished it would seem by an unusual supply of blood. - -Sharp as was the pain, Charles Repton controlled himself, listened to -the explanations and apologies of the barber, and submitted himself -again to the grooming for which he had entered. - -When he went out again into the street he had almost forgotten the -accident. The two places where his head had been struck swelled -slightly and he touched them now and again, but they soon passed from -his mind; within ten minutes they were no longer painful; yet was there -set up in them from that moment, an irritation which was to have no -inconsiderable consequence. - -He went on into the City, ordered one or two things which he had set -down in his memorandum before starting, looked in at a City Club -where he knew one or two items of news were awaiting him, and slowly -betook himself to the offices of the Van Diemens Company. He had -thoroughly planned out the scheme of that morning’s work; it needed no -recapitulation in his mind, yet as his habit was, just before opening -the door of the Board Room, in the few seconds of going up the stairs, -he briefly presented his scheme of tactics to his own mind. - -The Directors must ask the shareholders for fresh capital; a nominal -million, an increase of 25 per cent. upon the value of the shares at -par. That was the first point. - -The second point was the object for which this levy should nominally -be demanded. On that also he had made up his mind. Paton had quite -unconsciously suggested to him the master idea; a little belt of -untravelled and unknown country (locally known as the “Out and Out”) -wherein the degraded Kawangas--so Paton had told him, and after all -Paton had been there--held their orgies in Mutchi-time, alone separated -Perks’ Bay from the Straits, and the long detour which all traffic must -now make between the coaling station and the high road to the East, -could be cut off by a line crossing that region. Paton had assured him -with immense enthusiasm that such a line would give its possessor the -strategic key to the gate of everything East of the Bay of Bengal, -and, what was more important in Sir Charles’ eyes than Paton’s own -opinion, a vast mass of gentlemen in the suburbs of London and perhaps -five-sixths of the journalists in Fleet Street, were ready to rally to -the idea. It had been well preached and well dinned in. - -These two points were clear: they must ask for a million and they must -ask it for the purpose of building a railway that would at last ensure -the Empire against the nightmare of foreign rivals. - -There was a third point. The shareholders would not or could not -subscribe a million but that was easily turned. They should be asked -for no more than 200,000,--a shilling a share--in cash down, “the -remainder to be paid,” etc. etc. - -Had not Sir Charles possessed an iron control of his face, the strong -set smile which he wore as he entered the Board Room would have -broadened at the recollection of that last detail. On the other hand -had he not possessed such self-control some movement of annoyance -might have escaped him to discover present at the table, among his -other colleagues, the late-rising and impervious Bingham. The sight -was sufficient to exasperate a man of less balance. The hour had been -carefully chosen to avoid such an accident, and that accident meant -perhaps another half-hour or more of close argument and of subtle -effort. - -For his colleague Bingham added to a native idiocy of solid texture and -formidable dimensions, the experience of extensive travel; and he was -in particular well acquainted with the district with regard to which -the Board must that day make its decision. It was certain, therefore, -that his fellow-Directors would listen to him with peculiar respect, -not only on account of his stupidity which necessarily commanded a -certain attention, but also on account of his intimacy with plain -matters of fact: he had been upon the spot: he was the man who knew. - -It was just as Repton had feared. Business that might have been done in -a quarter of an hour and a decision which contained no more than the -issue of pieces of paper was turned into a long practical discussion by -the intolerable ponderance of Bingham, who would wait until every one -had had his say, and then would bring in some dreadful little technical -point about a marsh, a rainy season or a fly; he was careful to pepper -his conversation with local terms a hundred times more remote than the -Kawanga and Mutchi-time; in every conceivable manner he put his spoke -into the wheels of business. - -So considerable was the effect produced by the redoubtable Bingham at -that table that, were Cæsarism a common political theory in elderly -men, the whole conduct of Van Diemens would for the future have been -put into his hands. Luckily for the Company its forms were not so -democratic. - -Charles Repton waited patiently. When he spoke his point was as simple -as falling off a log: what was wanted was not a railway in itself, it -was a new issue of capital. He was profoundly indifferent what label -should be tied onto that issue, so long as it was a label good enough -to get the original shareholders to come in. The public would never -come in as things were: its pusillanimity was increased by the fact -that the Company had been in existence for now eleven years and had -hitherto failed to pay a dividend of any kind. After some thought he -had decided, in company with one or two others upon the Board, that a -railway through a certain district of the concession, locally known -as “The Out and Out,” and remarkable for the fact that no white man -had yet visited it, would be the best attraction he could offer. He -was prepared to show by the aid of maps upon which should be marked -all favourable things, that a line driven through this district would -unite with the world two provinces teeming with inexhaustible wealth, -of a heavenly climate, and hitherto by the mere accident of the Out -and Out belt, cut off from the longing embraces of commerce. More; -he could show that this single line of railway would bestow upon his -beloved country so vast a strategic superiority over all other nations -as would ensure her immediate success in any campaign, no matter what -the quality of the troops she might employ. To this he added the -attractions of touring in the tropics and the allurements of big game -for those wealthy gentlemen whom he designed in the new prospectus to -term Shikaris. - -With the new capital subscribed and long before the line was surveyed, -there was little doubt that the shares which had fallen from over £9 to -the comparatively low quotation--but oh! not price--of 16/3 (at which -quotation he had first consented to tender his services to the Company) -would rise to certainly over £1, perhaps to nearer £2, and what was -more to the point they would be readily saleable. He was prepared in -that event to transfer his property in them to others, a course which -he sincerely hoped his fellow-shareholders would also follow, though of -course he would not take it upon himself to advise any one of them. - -Bingham, like the practical man he was, pinned himself to the railway. -He _knew_ the Out and Out; not that he’d ever been there,--no white -man had,--but he had talked to several of the Kawanga in Mutchi-time, -and he shook his head despondently. There was one continuous line of -precipice 3000 feet deep; there was a river which was now a stream -five miles broad, now a marsh and now again dry--, sometimes for years -on end. There was a dense mass of forest; there was that much more -difficult thing, a belt of shifting sand dunes; there were nearly 300 -miles without water through these. He was prepared to speak all day -upon the difficulties of building a railway which none but the least -intelligent had ever designed to build. - -Sir Charles Repton could ride himself on the curb, and more than -anything else this mastery had given him his present great position; -but that day he had to exercise his will to the full, and in that -exercise he felt slight twinges behind the ear where the barber’s rest -had struck him. It was all he could do to prevent himself from drumming -on the table or from making those interruptions which only serve as -fuel to the slow criticisms of the dull. - -At last--and heaven knows with what subtlety and patience--he -conquered. There was a vote (a thing he had wished to avoid), but he -carried it by two; and it was agreed that the issue of new capital -should be made, that a General Meeting of the shareholders should -be called for Tuesday the 2nd of June, and that he, Repton, should -have the task of laying the scheme before them. The new prospectus, -which he had already drafted, was passed round and with a very few -emendations accepted. Then, after as heavy a bit of work as had ever -been undertaken in the way of persuasion, the principal brain in that -company was at last free for other things. - -It was half-past one. He had just time to meet and to convince yet -another fool upon another matter: the foreigner acting as agent for his -Government, on the matter of the bridge: a bridge which the Foreign -Government might or might not build, and, if they built, might or might -not order from a firm which Repton had reason to befriend. Repton must -lunch with that foreigner: he must persuade him to build: he must -get the order--then he must be in his place in the House in time for -questions. - -The foreigner was as wax in his hands: not as good warm wax, -adulterated wax, candle wax, but rather as beeswax, very ancient -and hard. It was a full hour before that wax was pliable, but once -again the unceasing, managed, strict watchfulness, the set face which -had always in it something stern but never anything aggressive, the -balance of judgment, conquered. Down to the smallest detail of that -conversation Repton was the artist, his host at the lunch was the -public, accepting and gradually convinced, and the bridge was ordered -for the Foreign Government, though it was a useless bridge leading -from nowhere to nowhere, and though it could have been built much more -solidly and much better by the people of the place than by the English -firm. - -Then Repton went on to the House of Commons, and there, as in every -duty of the day, the weight of his character told. - -The questions were slight, there were not half a dozen that concerned -his Department, but he answered them all with that curious restraint of -tone which somehow made it difficult to cross-examine his Department. -And he faced the House with such a poise and expression that one almost -wondered, as one looked at him, upon which side he was sitting, or -whether indeed the mere game of In’s and Out’s entered into his brain -at all. - -He seemed to be quite above the divisions of party. He seemed a sort -of Ambassador from the permanent officials and to carry into the House -of Commons an atmosphere at once judicial and experienced which no one -could resist. When he had first accepted the Wardenship of the Court -of Dowry it had been wondered that he should take so secondary a post. -Now, after these four years, it was rather wondered why no one had seen -till then the possibilities that lay in the position. - -After that typical and decisive day, Repton, for more than a month, -refrained from debate. - -He was ever in his seat on those two days in each week when it was his -business to answer questions: he never let his understrapper appear for -him; for one full fortnight he was permanently in attendance, watching -the fortunes before a select committee of a certain Bill, for which the -public cared nothing but which he knew might change in a very important -particular the public fortune--but in general he seemed to be in -retirement. He was planning hard. - -A mixture of Imperial sentiment and personal pride urged him to put -Van Diemens on their legs, and all April, all through the Easter -Recess, he remained in London working. He worked right on into May; for -the first week after Parliament met again he was seen but little; one -thing only troubled him, that at long intervals--sometimes as long as -ten days, an uneasy twinge behind the ears, the result of that little -half-forgotten accident, incommoded him. These twinges came a trifle -more frequently as May advanced. After the last of them he had felt a -little dazed--no more. And still he worked and worked, holding twenty -reins in his hands. - -Before the end of May the fruit of all this labour began to appear. -Camptons were reconstructed, arbitration had been forced upon the -Docks combination in the North just in time to prevent a wholesale -transference of shipping abroad, and more important than all, perhaps, -there had begun to crop up in the papers, here, there, and everywhere, -the mention--and the flattering mention--of Van Diemens, and the -wealthy were already familiar with the conception of a certain railway -in the land which was under the Van Diemens charter. - -The wealthy, but as yet only the wealthy; it is as fatal to be too -early as to be too late, and that brain which knew how to drive and -compel, had also known so well how to restrain, that the shares still -remained unsaleable with the meaningless quotation of sixteen shillings -and a few fluctuating pence still attached to them in the market lists. - -So Repton stood in the middle of May, 1915, when he became aware that -an obscure member (obscure at least in the House of Commons--and Repton -noticed little of, and cared nothing for, the merely luxurious world of -London), an aristocrat of sorts, one of the _Demaine_,--George Demaine -it seemed, was being talked about. He was being pushed somehow. Repton -hardly heeded so commonplace a phenomenon, save perhaps to wonder what -job was on:--he continued to push Van Diemens. - - - - -CHAPTER V - - -The Petheringtons’ house, to which Mary Smith drove on the evening of -12th of April, under the two pretty little electric lights of her car, -one for either side of her face, was one of a hundred similar London -houses, a huge brown cube in the middle of Grosvenor Square. - -It was no longer called Petherington House; it had once again regained -its more familiar appellation of No. 89, under which it had been -famous for the complete lack of entertainment of any sort which had -distinguished the short session of 1912. Then old Hooker had died, the -changes in the Cabinet had come, Hooker’s wife had married the Bishop -and also died immediately, and finally the Petheringtons had taken the -place, foolishly called it by their own title for a few months, and -finding it unknown to cabmen and to their friends’ chauffeurs also -under this appellation, they slowly reverted to the old name. - -If hospitality is a fault when pushed to an extreme, the Petheringtons -exhibited that fault. But so excellent were their arrangements--for -business will out even in the smallest details of domestic life--that -no one suffered in the crush, and that it was perfectly easy in the -time a guest ordinarily allowed himself for the function, to go up the -stairs and down again, though perhaps too much time was wasted at the -necessarily narrow entrance where men must seek their hats and coats. - -The movement of Society in this particular case was rendered the more -facile by the emptiness of the hall, from which everything had been -taken except the Great Stuffed Bear which had been shot by the servant -of a trapper who had sold it to the correspondent of the furrier -of Lady Petherington, and which now stood holding a tray, with an -expression of extreme ferocity, and labelled “The Caucasus, 17th June, -1910,”--for in those mountains Mr. Petherington--as he then was--had -travelled. - -Mary Smith was not disappointed. Mooning aimlessly about the crowded -rooms above, in an atmosphere surcharged with mauve Moravian music--the -loudest of its kind--shuffled the anxious and slightly bowed form of -Dolly, the young and popular Prime Minister. - -A foreigner might have thought him to have few friends, so slowly -did he proceed and with so curious a gaze from one group to another, -seeming half stunned by the vigour of the band and fascinated by the -vigorous contortions of Mr. Arthur Worth who conducted it for all he -was--I mean with his utmost capacity of gesture and expression. That -foreigner would have suffered an illusion. The Prime Minister was -perfectly well known in face and figure to every one in that room, and -there were few who did not hope for some advantage from his presence, -but fewer, far fewer still, who attempted to obtain it. I must of -course except Professor Kahn. - -Dolly knew his Mary Smith, and resigned himself to suffer. She had -not come there that night for nothing. She got up to him within half -a minute of the view, and found him with peculiar dexterity through a -maze of wealthy people. She quietly took him away, and sat him in a -large chair that stood in a remote recess, where the light was subdued; -she took advantage of a deafening crash in the music to which its -previous successes were child’s play, and shouted: - -“When are you going to have your next move?” - -The Prime Minister implored her not to talk shop. Then somewhat -inconsequently he added, weakening: “Why do you want to know?” - -The music was now whining and part of it was taking breath for another -charge. It was therefore in quite a low but exceedingly business-like -tone that Mary Smith remarked: - -“Because I want you to do something for Dimmy.” - -The name suggested to the Prime Minister one of twenty little jobs; he -thought of a jolly little one in Ireland. But she added: “You know what -has happened?” - -He didn’t. - -She told him briefly: Ole Man Benson was broke. - -The Prime Minister remembered the explosion of Popocatapetl: he had -vaguely connected the news with something at the time: now he knew what -it was. He looked extremely grave. And when Mary went on to tell him -that Mrs. Demaine had only £1500 he looked graver still. - -“There isn’t anything of a big sort going just now, Mary,” he said in -quite another tone. But he was thinking his clearest. “I don’t know him -as well as you do,” he added. “Can he _do_ anything?” - -“No,” said Mary Smith decidedly, “he can’t. But he’d go well in -harness.” - -The Prime Minister seemed to live more actively as he considered the -problem. The warm air, the scent of clothes and flowers suited him well. - -The trouble with his left lung which had so endeared him to his -fellow-citizens, he felt far less keenly in the beginning of a warm -spring than at any other time, and evenings such as this rewarded him -for the sacrifice he made every winter to his duty and to England. Of -the four years during which he had held the highest of human offices -he had spent but one winter on the Riviera, and though it had been -necessary in one year to forego an Autumn session, such a session had -not in the other three years delayed the meeting of Parliament beyond -the end of February. His youth stood him in good stead during this -ordeal; but there were those (and they were they who loved him most) -who looked with anxiety upon the frail form and thought, although -they dared not say, that the years were slipping by and that what a -man could do with impunity when still upon the right side of fifty, -would become another matter when his fifty-fifth year was passed.... -There was of course always the hope of opposition and its leisure.... -The Broadening of the Streets Bill had roused a tempest of Party -passion.... He had already been publicly stoned in the North.... But no -matter; for the moment the Prime Minister was full of appreciation, and -for his cousin’s purposes in the kindliest of moods. - -Nevertheless he thought (and his cousin read his thoughts) that she was -asking the impossible. An idea struck him. - -“Has Dimmy been called to the Bar?” he asked. - -She looked up, puzzled. “I don’t think so.... No, I know he hasn’t. I -put up a hundred for him in 1908 and he buzzed it. I should certainly -have heard if he had done anything more before his marriage. Naturally -_since_ then....” - -“Yes, naturally,” said the Prime Minister sympathetically. He mused. -“He wouldn’t go abroad?” he said, looking round. - -“What on earth’s the good of that?” said Mary Smith a little testily. - -“Well,” answered the Prime Minister vaguely, as he reviewed certain -posts in his mind, “... No. There isn’t much in that. Anything that -could be of any use wants leading up to.” And he plunged into thought -again. - -Then with a gesture that many had noticed in him and had thought a mere -idle trick but which was really an accompaniment to calculation, he put -his ten fingers down upon his knees and lifted them slowly one after -another. When he had so lifted nine (it was the ring finger of his left -hand) a touch of animation passed over his face, an expression his -cousin could see even in that subdued light. - -“How long does he want it for?” he asked. - -Mary Smith was inclined to say “For ever,” but she checked herself; she -remembered the face and manner of Theocritus C. Benson, she trusted his -future fortune, and she said: - -“I think even a little while would make a difference.” - -They were both thinking of the same thing. But the Prime Minister -understood what perhaps she did not, that there is no such thing as -autocratic intervention in our public life, that time is required -for every innovation, and that he who leads must also follow. He was -reviewing as she spoke the prejudices and the ambitions of perhaps -twenty men, and the power of each. When he spoke again it was as though -his decision were final: - -“I don’t see how I could do anything for him in the House. He’s hardly -ever spoken, and when he did he made a fool of himself.” - -“Of course,” said Mary sympathetically. - -“He’s the only man,” went on Dolly reflectively, “whom I’ve ever seen -fall right _off_ a bench in the House of Commons....” - -“You mean he’s physically awkward?” replied Mary in the tone of a -woman who knows how to despise such trifles--but she scented danger. -“I’ve never known Dimmy betray one word that was confided to him,” she -continued gravely. - -“If one were beginning all over again,” said Dolly, as though thinking -aloud. “But then,” he added, getting up from his chair and making as -though to walk away,--“_that’s_ impossible,--there’s Repton.” - -It has been said that women are inconsequent in their conversation and -that if they desire to obtain a favour they do so by disconnected hints -which men cannot follow. It may be so. But perhaps on this very account -do they succeed. At any rate from the moment that the Prime Minister -had let drop the phrase “there’s Repton,” Mary Smith’s plan was formed. -She did not like Sir Charles Repton, largely because he had not known -her well. She had half forgotten him; she understood now that in some -way he stood as an obstacle to what she desired for poor George, and -from that moment she determined that Repton should be thrust into the -House of Lords. All she said was: - -“Yes, I forgot Repton.” - -And then she went back into the crowded rooms, pushing the friend of -her girlhood playfully before her with her forefinger pressed into the -small of his back, until they reached the open door and entered the -main rooms. - -The music of Mr. Arthur Worth’s band rose, a triumphant tyrant over, -the howling talk, when, during a sharp momentary and calculated pause -in the tornado of violins came the loud and unexpected crash of some -heavy object falling violently in the hall below. Mary Smith moved very -rapidly and silently downstairs towards the sound. - -It was as she expected; George Mulross had come! A little flushed and -very much annoyed, he had upset the Great Stuffed Bear which stood near -the door of the house. George was looking at the Prostrate Monster with -angry defiance, and nothing but his dignity forbade him to attempt -to raise it. The accident was enough to decide Mary. She dreaded the -impression Dolly might receive if the poor lad went up now and was -flurried again. She went up and put her hand on his shoulder as he -stood there. He jumped round and discovered her. - -“Oh Lord!” he said. - -“Dimmy,” she commanded firmly, “go out at once. A great deal depends on -it. Go out at once. Don’t wait!” - -He began to say something about his wife and a carriage. - -“_Go out at once!_” said Mary Smith. - -He tried to say something about his hat and coat. - -Some yards before them at the open door the noise of a carriage was -heard and there were servants waiting. Behind them more servants. But -Mary Smith knew her world. - -It was a choice of evils, and George Mulross Demaine went out into -the night, hatless and coatless. The policemen were pleased to see -such familiarity among the great. They doubted not that the gentleman -was taking the air, but they wondered why he walked so very rapidly -eastward through Mayfair. - -Meanwhile from the carriage the daughter of Theocritus C. Benson came -out, not without decision, and very soon the rooms of that house were -filled and even its Moravian music dominated by the acuteness of her -laugh and the tremendous decision of her tread. - -When every one had gone, one hat and coat remained. The footman pawned -them: they were those of George Mulross Demaine. - -He, poor fellow, saw in all this nothing but that eternity of bad luck -to which he was born. When his wife asked him next day why he had left -the Petheringtons’ so early, he told some ordinary lie: he had left -indeed because one wiser than he had told him to leave, but he could -make neither head nor tail of the whole affair: and his foot hurt him -where the Bear had crushed it. - - - - -CHAPTER VI - - -Easter, as those who survive will know, fell early in 1915--to be -exact, upon April 4th; Ole Man Benson had returned on the 11th; on the -12th Mary had seen Dolly; and the week after Ole Man Benson’s return -to these shores, the week after he had delivered his important and -somewhat depressing news to the young household, the week after Mary -and Dolly had conferred at the Petheringtons’--was the week in which -Parliament met after the Recess, the third week in April. - -In that week also there began to crop up here and there unexpectedly, -beautifully, like the spring flowers, short newspaper notes upon George -Mulross Demaine. - -They were notes of where he had been, whether he had been there or -not,--at least at first they were notes of that kind. There had always -been some such notes on him in the papers, but they seemed to be -getting numerous. - -The public would hear that George Mulross loved his great poodle -dog; next that the pressure of his engagements forbade him to open -an Enormous Institution for the Cultivation and Study of Virulent -Diseases, and in connection with this news the Institution was -described at great length, and the passionate regrets at the absence of -George Mulross Demaine sounded like a small but perceptible dirge in -the corners of the daily press. - -He was attacked gently but cleverly in a paper upon his own side of -politics; short biographical notes, only a few among several score, -gave details of his happy little ways. He was fond of riding, said one -author who can have had but little intimacy with her subject; he was -fond of children, said another who had even less. He had “an eye for -black game,” said a third, whose lack of intimacy included not only -George himself but certainly black game as well. - -Later came anecdotes of his goodness of heart; how he had run over a -boy in the Park with his motor and had then picked him up; and how he -had good-humouredly refrained from telling people who he was in the -railway accident, and had permitted the wounded to be taken to hospital -before he himself would accept conveyance. - -Finally, as the month ended, and as May brought in the London season, -George Mulross began to find himself uncomfortably prominent. For he -very sincerely and very heartily hated fame. He could not so much as -upset a glass of wine or stumble over public stairs without hearing -his name whispered; and once when he had called at the wrong number, -the servant, recognising him from some caricature in the papers, had -mentioned his own name to him with reverence, though the door was the -door of a house whose occupants he did not know. - -Meanwhile the tiny balance at the bank had gone. The overdraft was -large and at any moment there might come a note which he dreaded. And -Mary Smith had compelled him to look for a small house in Westminster -and to make every preparation for leaving Demaine House. He kicked -feebly, but she insisted: and even Sudie gave way. - -“You haven’t enough to keep the house dry,” Mary said. And she -compelled them both to a sense of business which Theocritus himself -would have failed to make them feel. - -All this business was well advanced when Mary Smith proceeded to the -next stage of the campaign. - -She carefully looked up the nature of the Court of Dowry, and when she -had learned all that she could learn from her books (it took her half a -day--though she was a woman of exceptional intelligence and excellent -education) she set herself to learn all that could be learned from -living men. - - * * * * * - -The Court of Dowry, in its very survival and still more perhaps in the -functions to-day attached to it, affords an admirable example of the -value of fixed institutions in the life of a people. - -It was originally instituted to try cases falling within the -jurisdiction of that Queen Mother of the Middle Ages to whom the poet -Gray so pathetically alludes in the striking lines - - “She-wolf of France with unrelenting fangs - Tearing the bowels,” etc. - -It had cognizance of all Escheats, Novels Tabulate and Malprisions -Reguardaunt in the County of Ponthieu and the Seniory of Lucq. But when -active jurisdiction over these continental territories was interrupted -under King Henry VI., there remained no function for the Court but the -trial of cases arising in or without foreign ports upon decks subject -to the Crown of England. - -It lingered thus into the beginning of the sixteenth century, at -which moment it was reduced to a Clerk known as the _Mangeur_, and a -Warden, each holding what were virtually sinecures (and not highly paid -sinecures at that) about the Palace. - -Henry VIII., whom we cannot call a good but whom surely we may call a -great man, rudely suppressed the office of Mangeur with a cruel jest -at the executioner’s expense, and only permitted the Wardenship itself -to survive on the strict understanding that the salary should be paid -to himself. The title, however, remained, a minor distinction among -the numerous baubles of the time, and was, if I may so express it, -resurrected from obscurity by the great family of Heygate at the moment -of the Restoration of Charles II. - -In their gladness at their recovery of a legitimate sovereign, this -dominant house (now represented by the Parrells) trapped themselves in -every accoutrement of joy, and, among other posts, the Wardenship of -the Court of Dowry was voted in 1661 an annual salary of £2000, for -which sum held by the same Act as an hereditary right, the head of the -House of Heygate was content to license the annual holding of the Court -within the Royal Manor and Liberties of Tooting. - -At first this Court sat for one full day in each year--St. Luke’s--but -later, from 1731, this session was maintained in fiction alone. A crier -in Westminster Hall, at the opening of every Hilary Term, would rapidly -read out a list of three fictitious cases which went by default, claim -seventeen and sixpence, and for ever after hold his peace. - -During the eighteenth century the fixed yearly salary of £2000 -hereditarily enjoyed by the Heygate family steadily grew, till, by -the time of the Reform Bill, it had reached the very considerable sum -of £15,000, still payable to the Heygates though now all vestige of -activity in the office had disappeared. - -Our grandfathers, in the zeal of that somewhat iconoclastic moment, -swept away the corrupt figment. The emoluments of the post were -ruthlessly cut down to the original £2000; its hereditary character -was, after a violent debate in the House of Lords, destroyed by a -majority of over fifty votes, determined (as were so many of the great -changes of that time!) by the voice of Eldon. The Detainer of the -office (for such was his official title) received in compensation -a lump sum of half a million only--not twenty years’ purchase--and -certain apparently unimportant functions were attached to the place -which from that day forward became an appointment changing with the -Administration. - -Mark here the silent virtue of organic constitutional growth, and how -a gentry can find it possible to create where demagogues would have -destroyed. - -Point by point and function by function, one marine interest after -another attached itself to the Court of Dowry as the beautiful -organisms of the sea attach themselves to the ships that plough its -waters, until there had grown up round the Court of Dowry by the end -of the nineteenth century so considerable a mass of precedent and -custom and, with the vast extension of our maritime commerce, duties so -manifold and of such moment to the nation, that the office re-emerged -after its life of six centuries, an organ of capital importance in the -workings of English Government. - -As must be the case in any old and secure State, certain anomalous -duties were further attached to it: the inspection of patent medicines -for instance, the giving out of contracts for buoys and rockets, -and the formal stamping of licences to sell sarsaparilla. Even so -the wretched and insufficient salary of £2000 remained the sole -remuneration of the Warden, though the great name of GHERKIN had raised -it to be among the foremost posts of the Cabinet, and it had since -seen the brilliancy, the learning and the judgment respectively of -a Dibley, a Powker and a Hump. By 1912 its strict control over the -great steamship lines, its supervision of wrecks, derelicts, Hunnage, -Mixings, and Ports Consequent, made it second only to the Foreign -Office in the matter of public interest, and, like the Foreign Office, -largely removed from the wranglings of party. - -Some months later the salary was raised, amid the cheers (as I have -said) of a united House, to £5000 a year, with a further allowance of -£5000 for the expenses of entertainment and travel, which fall with -peculiar severity upon this great Department; and in the hands of -Charles Repton it had risen to be something even more, if that were -possible, than GHERKIN had made it. - - * * * * * - -So much did Mary Smith discover: partly in what she already knew, -partly in her reading. The living voices of men told her further things. - -It seemed that in the dingy offices which (by a lovely trait in the -character of politics!) house this great Department--they stand between -Parliament Street and New Scotland Yard--a certain Mr. Sorrel had for -now seven years exercised his marvellous and hidden powers, and while -all were prepared to admit the genius of Charles Repton, those who best -knew the workings of a great Government office, spoke almost as though -Mr. Sorrel were in himself the Court of Dowry. - -The quaint customs attaching to the office of Warden, the little -bells upon the shoes, the bearing of a model ship, bareheaded, upon -Empire Day (a recent innovation and one awkward only to the bald or -the blind), though to some they seemed a drawback, to others were but -an additional attraction, and the ceremony of waggling in backwards -upon all fours into the presence of the Sovereign at Inauguration, had -been, with perhaps doubtful wisdom, abolished, to suit the eccentric -Radicalism of GHERKIN, who refused to take office under any other -condition. - -The Accolade, or Ceremonial Stroke, however, heavily administered with -a beam of ebony across the back of the Warden Accept, was retained -and has often afforded a subject for illustration and archæological -research. - -Mary Smith learnt even more. She learnt that while decency forbade any -saving to be effected on the further £5000 that was an allowance for -entertainment and travel, yet custom allowed it to be spent in all -forms of hospitality, and that travel might include such social visits -as were necessary to the occupant of so high an office. When she learnt -this she was but the more confirmed in her determination that Charles -Repton who for the moment encumbered the post of Warden, should accept -a barony, and that quickly; for she saw the agony of Demaine House -already begun. Upon a certain morning in the mid-week of May the last -stage of her beneficent action was ready. - - * * * * * - -In his study on that same morning, Charles Repton, a little weary but -with all his action planned and designed, suffered again for a moment -that slight dull pain behind the ears, where Caryll’s Ganglia are: he -was dazed. He went out and sought his wife, and she was astonished to -see as he put to her some simple question on the management of the -household, a look of innocence in his eyes. It quickly faded. The pain -also departed, and he returned to his study. - - * * * * * - -Mary Smith sent a note over to Demaine House. - -Mary’s note found George Mulross Demaine risen after a lonely lunch and -wondering, as he regularly wondered every day, what was going to turn -up. - -His wonderment had bewilderment in it also. Something was going to turn -up he knew ... people were noticing him so. Only last evening there was -a savage attack upon him in the _Moon_, saying that he had torn Hares -to pieces with his own reeking hands, and killed a Carted Stag with a -blunt knife; while the _Capon_, with more truth, had pointed out the -beauty of the Sir Joshuas in his house, but had erroneously suggested -that they were heirlooms in his family. - -He was still gazing at the May morning and gloomily considering the -buds in the formal garden, when Mary’s note was forced upon him by a -huge Dependant. - -A note in the firm hand of Mary Smith was always a pleasant thing to -get; for a bewildered man it had something in it of salvation. - -George Mulross went in a mood lighter than any he had known for many -weeks, towards his cousin’s house. He found her, of course, alone. - -“Dimmy,” she said, lifting his hand gently from the chimneypiece -where he was moving it aimlessly among several breakable and valuable -things,--“Dimmy, when did you last ask a question in the House?” - -He looked frightened, and said: - -“Oh! ages ago.” - -“Now look here, Dimmy,” she said smoothly, “I want you to go and ask -this to-day,”--and she handed him a bit of paper. - -“Have you got any money in it?” he asked innocently. - -“No, certainly not,” she answered. “You silly ass! What could that have -to do with it? Read it.” - -He read: “_Mr. G. M. Demaine: to ask the Prime Minister whether his -attention has been called to the fact that the Van Huren Company is not -registered in London as the law provides, and what steps he proposes to -take in view of this evasion of a public safeguard?_” - -“What on earth have I to do with that?” he asked, looking up at her, a -little put out and evidently unwilling to take any risks. “What is it -anyhow?” - -“Now look here, Dimmy,” she said, “do be a good fellow: it’s all for -your good.” - -“Well anyhow,” he said, “I can’t get an answer for two days.” - -“Yes you can,” she said, “I’ve sent Dolly a little note typewritten, -and signed it in your name; and you can call it a ‘matter of which you -have given him private notice.’” - -“Oh, you have!” said Demaine, almost moved to energy. - -“Yes, I have,” said Mary Smith firmly. “There are a hundred and eight -questions to-day; it’s half-past three and you’ve time to get down to -the House comfortably. I’ll take you there.” - -She did: and amid the general indifference of most members in a crowded -House, the amusement of perhaps a couple of dozen, and the red-hot -silent rage of at least two, G. M. Demaine in a half-audible voice, -mumbled his query. - -The Prime Minister received more than a murmur of applause when he -answered in his clear and rather high voice that in a matter of such -importance and in a moment such as this, it was not to the interest of -the country to give a public reply. - -If there was one thing George Mulross Demaine dreaded more than another -it was to be questioned, and still more to be congratulated, upon -things he did not understand. Luckily for him a scene of some violence -connected with the religious differences of the Scotch, prevented the -immediate opening of the debate at the end of Questions, and he had the -opportunity to slip away. But to his terror he found the motor waiting -for him and Mary Smith beckoning him from within; like the fascinated -bird of the legend he was captured. He hoped that she would drive him -to some more congenial air. But no, she produced, from a large and -business-like wallet which she only carried in her most imperious -moments, two questions to be set down for the day after the morrow. - -He took them with a groan and yielded as yield he must to her command -that he should set them down. They were of no importance, the one was -to his uncle by a second marriage, the First Civil Lord, to ask him the -name of a Company that had proved less able than was expected in the -manufacture of armour plates; the other to his cousin the Chancellor -of the Exchequer asking if the action of some obscure servant of -the Treasury in a peaceful Buckinghamshire village had received the -attention which his recent services seemed to require. - -The day and hour came round. George Mulross in a voice perhaps a little -more assured than that of two days before, said when his turn came: -“Twenty-nine.” - -To his surprise the Chancellor of the Exchequer answered with some -tartness that he had nothing whatever to add to his predecessor’s -answer of July 9th ten years before, and added amid general approval, -that insinuations such as were those contained in the question were -greatly to be deplored. - -A man of excitable temperament had already leapt to his feet to ask a -supplementary question when he was sharply checked by the Chair and the -curious incident closed. - -Some ten minutes passed and once again, sweating with fear, Demaine -heard his name called out and said in a voice still audible: -“Fifty-four.--I mean Forty-five.” - -The First Lord of the Admiralty rose solemnly in all the dignity of -his great white beard, adjusted his spectacles, looked fully at the -intruder upon his peace, and said with his unmistakable accent, that -the name of the Company could be dithcovered through the ordinary -thourceth of information. - -So the game continued for ten days. In vain did his friends assure him -that he was losing position in the House by this perpetual pose of -the puritan and the sleuth hound. Mary Smith was a woman who must be -obeyed, and of twenty-three questions which she put into his unwilling -lips at least one had gone home. And the First Lord of the Admiralty -in the same dignity of the same white beard and with the same striking -accent, had admitted the nethethity of thtriking from the litht of -contractorth the name of the firm of which, until that moment, the -unhappy George Mulross had never even heard. - -He knew, he felt, that he, the most blameless of men, was making -enemies upon every side. The allusions to his public spirit which were -now occasionally to be discovered in the Opposition papers, the little -bitter sentences in those which were upon the contrary subsidised by -his own party, filled him with an equal dread. - -He was in no mood for going further, when upon the top of all this Mary -Smith quietly insisted that he must make a speech. - -It need not be long: she would write it out for him herself. He must -learn it absolutely by heart and must take the greatest care to -pronounce the words accurately. She chose a debate in which he could -talk more or less at large and put before him as gentle, as well -reasoned, as terse and as broad-minded a piece of wisdom as the House -might have listened to for many months. - -Morning and afternoon, a patient governess, Mary Smith heard him recite -that speech; but as day succeeded day she slowly determined that it -wouldn’t do. One slip might be his ruin. Upon the tenth rehearsal he -still said “very precious” for “meretricious.” He was still unable -to restrain a sharp forward movement at the words “I will go a step -further”; and he could never get in its right order the simple phrase: -“I yield to no one in my admiration for the right honourable gentleman.” - -First he would yield to a right honourable gentleman; then no one would -yield to him; then he would yield to no admiration, and at last she -gave it up in despair. - -A woman of less tenacity would have abandoned her design; not so Mary -Smith. She discovered with careful art that there was no reason why a -Warden of the Court of Dowry should speak in the House at all; he might -hold his post for three years and do no more than answer questions, -leaving to a subordinate the duty of speaking upon those very rare -public Bills, which, however distantly, concerned his office. - -She had already made him a name; she was determined not to destroy it -by following up this false scent of training him to public speaking. At -last, as the month of May was drawing to a close, she determined to put -him upon the rails. - -Dolly and she were agreed. Perhaps Dimmy would need to be persuaded; -he was naturally modest, and what was more he would very certainly be -afraid, but still more certainly he wanted money most abominably. - -When the day came for him to receive his great illumination she called -him to her once more, and once more he found her alone. She lunched -him first, and gave him a wine of which she knew he could drink in -moderation, for she felt he would need courage; she let him drink his -coffee, she lit her own tiny cigar, and at last she said: - -“Dimmy, what does it take you to live?” - -“I don’t know,” said Dimmy with some terror in his eyes. - -Mary Smith looked at him a little quizzically. He did not like those -looks though he was fond of her. It made him feel like an animal. - -“Dimmy,” she said, “could you and Sudie manage it on seven thousand a -year, or say on six thousand?” - -Dimmy thought long and painfully. For him there were but two scales of -income, the poor and the rich. In the days when it was such a bore to -raise a sovereign, he was poor. For nearly two years with an unlimited -capital behind him, and about twenty thousand a year for his wife to -spend, he had considered himself positively and fixedly among the -rich. He had felt comfortable: he had had elbow room. Six thousand -pounds puzzled him: it was neither one thing nor the other. A brilliant -thought struck him. - -“Can you tell me, Mary,” he said gently, “some one who has got about -six thousand? I think I could judge _then_.” - -“I can tell you one positively,” said Mary Smith. “Charlie Fitzgerald -and his wife. Till the old Yid dies they’ve got six thousand exactly. -I ought to know, considering that I went over every scrap of paper in -order to make sure of Charlie repaying me.” - -“Oh!” said Demaine judicially. “Charlie Fitzgerald and his wife....” He -thought for a long time. “Well, they’re pretty comfortable,” he said -suddenly. “Of course they haven’t got a place and grounds; I suppose if -they had a place and grounds they couldn’t do it.” - -“No,” said Mary, “but the house in Westminster is very large when -you get inside through the narrow part. When are you going into -Westminster, Dimmy?” - -“I don’t know,” said Dimmy hopelessly. “Sudie’s got all muddled about -it. She saw ‘City of Westminster’ stuck up on one of those khaki -Dreadnought hats that the street sweepers wear, an’ the man was getting -horrors into a cart right up by our house, an’ she said that where we -_were_ was Westminster anyhow. And then when I argued with her she -shoved me to the window and pointed out his hat. She was quite rough.” -And George Mulross sighed. - -Mary Smith got testy. “Don’t talk rubbish,” she said, “and don’t bother -me about your wife. Have you looked at anything in Westminster at all?” - -“I don’t know,” said Demaine humbly. - -“You must know,” said Mary sharply, and with a strong inclination to -slap him. “Have you looked in Dean’s Yard, for instance?” - -“Yes,” said Demaine, slowly reviewing his perambulations of the last -few days. “Yes, I’ve looked at Dean’s Yard. There’s nothing there.... -All the rest seems to be so slummy, Mary.” - -“There are some exceedingly good new houses,” said Mary severely, “and -everybody’s going there; and the old houses are perfectly delicious. -Anyhow, Westminster’s the place; and I’ll tell you something else. -You’ve got to take office!” - -George Mulross, worried as he always was when she began drilling him, -on hearing the word “office” said simply: - -“Well I won’t, that’s flat. I don’t believe in it. I’ve seen lots of -men do that kind of thing. They get to the City and they think they’re -learning business, and they’re rooked before....” - -“I said ‘TAKE office’!” shouted Mary Smith, “TAKE office--get a -post.... Dolly will give you a post. Now do you understand?” - -“What?” said Demaine vaguely. - -“Dimmy,” she said more quietly but with great firmness, “look at me.” - -He looked at her. It was a muscular strain upon his eyes to keep them -fixed under her superior will. - -“That’s right.... Now listen carefully. The salary of the Wardenship of -the Court of Dowry is five thousand a year--and ex’s.” - -“Yes,” said Demaine. - -“When the Wardenship of the Court of Dowry is vacant--if you play up -worth tuppence, it’s yours for the asking. Do ... you ... understand?” - -“I don’t know,” repeated George Demaine. - -It was as though he had been told that he had been asleep all these -years, that his real name was Jones and that he lived in Australia, or -as though he had discovered himself to be covered with feathers. He was -utterly at sea. Then he said slowly: - -“Repton’s Warden of the Court of Dowry.” He was proud of knowing this, -for he often blundered about the Cabinet. - -“Will you or will you not fix your mind upon what I have said?” said -Mary Smith. - -The full absurdity of it grew increasingly upon Demaine’s imagination. -“The House would think Dolly was mad,” he remarked with really -beautiful humility. - -“Nonsense!” said Mary Smith in disgust, “the House will know nothing -about it one way or the other. The House doesn’t meddle with -government--thank God! You’re popular enough I suppose?” - -“Oh yes,” said Demaine. - -“And you never speak, do you?” - -“No,” said Demaine, “only once three years ago, the time I fell down, -you know; an’ that was quite short.” - -“How many people do you know in the House?” she asked. - -“I don’t know,” said Demaine. - -“Oh NONSENSE!... I mean how many people would write to you for -instance, and congratulate you?” - -Demaine gave it up. But one could see from his demeanour what she had -guessed from her own study of the debates and from her great knowledge -of London: a month ago people just knew that Demaine was in the House -and that was about all. They knew him now as a man whose name they had -seen fifty times and who asked questions. A better candidature could -not be conceived, and his close family connection with so many men on -both front benches would render the appointment reasonable in all eyes. - -All sorts of things were lumbering against each other in George -Mulross’ brain. He wondered whether one had to know anything, or what -one had to do, and how the money was paid; and whether income tax was -deducted at source; and how long the Government would stay in. Then the -absurdity of it recurred to him. - -“Of course there was Pitson,” he murmured, “and everybody laughed and -said he was a half-wit,--but he was in with everybody, although he was -a half-wit.” - -“So are you,” said Mary. - -“Yes, but I don’t laugh and go about as he did.” - -“It’s against a man to laugh much,” said Mary, “and really, if it comes -to going about, even a dog can do that. You’ve only got to go and sniff -round people.” - -The conversation could not profitably be continued. Demaine had been -introduced to the idea, and that was all Mary desired to do. - -She sent him home and invited herself that weekend to a house in which -she would find Dolly: the Kahns’--but no matter. Dolly was there. - -When the Prime Minister saw that dear figure of hers with its promise -of importunities he groaned in spirit. She brought him up to the -sticking point during a long walk on Sunday afternoon, and he promised -her that at least he would sound. - -“But I don’t know, Mary,” he said, half trying to retreat, “Repton’s -not a man to speak unless he chooses, and he’s like a stone wall -against one unless he also chooses to hear.” - -“Take him walking as I’m taking you,” said Mary. - -It was Sunday, the 31st of May. The weather had begun to be large and -open and warm. He thought there was something in what she said. - -“Meet him as he comes out of his house to-morrow. Do you know when he -comes out?” - -“Yes,” said the Prime Minister a little shamefacedly, “I do. It’s -always half-past nine.” - -“Well,” said Mary, “I really don’t see what your trouble is.” - -“It’s an absurd hour to catch a man, half-past nine--and I should have -to get up God knows when--besides to-morrow’s a bad day,” said the -Premier, pressing his lips together when he had spoken. “It’s a bad -moment. It’s a big week for him. He’s got a dinner on that’s something -to do with his dam companies to-morrow evening. I know that. And -then Tuesday he’s got that big Van Diemens meeting in the City. And -before the end of the week, I know he’s talking at the big Wycliffite -Conference--I can’t remember the day though. Pottle told me about it.” - -They had turned to go home, and Mary Smith for the first hundred yards -or so was honestly wondering in her mind why men found so difficult -what women find so easy. - -“I’ve told you what to do,” she said. “Catch him by accident outside -his house as he leaves after breakfast, then he’ll walk with you. Say -you’re walking. Anything can be said when one’s walking.” - -“Are you sure he’ll come with me?” asked the Prime Minister. - -“Positive!” said Mary Smith in a very quiet tone. - -The air was serene above them, and one lark had found his way so high -that they could hardly hear him singing. The Prime Minister wished from -the bottom of his heart that he could live in that field for a week. He -rose to one despairing rally: - -“Mary,” he said, “suppose it rains?” - -“Oh Dolly, Dolly, Dolly!” she answered, stopping short and standing in -front of him. “It’s for all the world as though you were just back from -school for the last time, and I was a little girl who had been sent for -on the grand occasion to tea.” - -She put both hands on his awkward shoulders to stop him, and she kissed -him anywhere upon the face. - -“It won’t rain, Dolly,” she said, “I’ve seen to that.” - - - - -CHAPTER VII - - -Charles Repton had taken no weekends. Charles Repton had sat tight in -London. - -The end of that May did not tempt him to move; he was right on to his -business, and never had his silent life been more silent or Maria, Lady -Repton, felt more alone, though she did as she was bid and remained -immovable in her London house, only seeing, when the leisure was -afforded her, her few dear friends (none conspicuous), and once or -twice presiding at a great dinner of her husband’s. - -Beyond all his other concerns one chief concern was resolving itself in -Charles Repton’s head. He was wondering exactly where he stood between -commerce and politics. - -These moments, not of doubt but of a necessity for decision, are the -tests of interior power. Some half-dozen such moments had marked the -career of his strict soul: one when he had determined to risk the -transition from his native town to Newcastle carefully calculating the -capital of clients and how much could be successfully lent in that -centre: another, when he had risked the expense of his first election: -a third when he had decided to take office--and there were others. - -Now as May drew to its close, as the discussion on the Budget was -in full swing and as the eager public notice of Van Diemens was on -the point of filling the press, he was in some balance as to whether -the precise proportion of activity which he gave to the House of -Commons--it was a large proportion--might not be absorbing just too -much of his energy. - -He calculated most exactly--as a man calculates a measurable thing, an -acreage, or a weight of metal--what the future proportions should be. - -He must remain in touch with everything that passed at Westminster; on -that he was fixed. But he knew that there was a growing criticism of -his combination of high political idealism with affairs in the City. -The _Moon_ had said one exceedingly unpleasant thing about the Oil -Concession in Burmah--it was only a newspaper but he had had to settle -it. The _Capon_ was paying a little more attention than he liked to his -position in the House of Commons. - -He thought hard, and under the process of his thought his mind somewhat -cleared. But he had come to no decision when, late in the night of -Sunday, the 31st of May, he marshalled the papers upon his desk, -deliberately turned his mind off the problems that had been engaging -him, and drew up a list of his next engagements. - -The next day, Monday the 1st of June, after leaving his house -punctually at half-past nine, he was to give half the morning to the -Wardenship. He was to return home at noon. From noon to lunch he must -see to his accounts. It was doubly important, for it was a Monday and -it was the first of the month. He would lunch: preferably alone, for he -would be tired, and he would give Maria to understand that he must be -undisturbed. - -On Tuesday, the 2nd, was the speech to the General Meeting of Van -Diemens. He glanced at his notes for that speech; they were all in -excellent sequence, and he felt, so far as men of that stern temper can -feel it, a little touch of pride when he noted the procession of the -argument. He saw in his mind’s eye first the conviction and then the -enthusiasm of the men whom he must convince: the vivid portrayal of the -Empire’s need of the railway: the ease of building it,--the delivery of -the great metaphor wherein he compared that thin new line of iron to -the electrical connection which turns potential and useless electrical -energy into actual and working force. - -He re-read the phrase in which he called it “completing the circuit”; -he did not doubt at all that the meeting would follow him. Sentence -after sentence passed before his memory (for he had carefully learned -the peroration by heart); the name of Nelson shone in one of them, the -name of Rhodes in another, of Joel in a third, till the great oration -closed with a vision, brief, succinct (but how vivid!) of the Gate of -the East and of England’s hand upon it, holding - - “... the keys - Of such teeming destinies” - -through them: through them! - -It was a great speech. - -He turned more carelessly to the already typewritten stuff which he -must deliver upon the Thursday to the Wycliffite Conference. It would -do--and it was of importance for the moment. It reminded him a little -contemptuously of the High Meat Teas in the North of England and of -his youth, and of that maundering war between Church and Chapel which -was then of real moment to him, and which now he still had wearily to -wage,--at least in public. - -Whether this little bout of study had been too much for a man who had -already spent a full month glued to his work, or whatever else was the -cause, he felt as midnight approached a trifle brain-sick. He leant his -head upon his hand, and it seemed to him--he hoped it was an illusion -for the sensation was yet vague--but it _did_ seem to him that the pain -behind the ears, or at least an oppression there, was beginning. He -muttered an exclamation so sharp as would have astonished those who had -never seen him under a strain. Then he went quickly upstairs to the -drawing-room and found his wife, sitting all alone with her book. - -She looked up as he entered, and again she was startled by that strange -innocence in his eyes. Odd, (but what living!) flashes of thirty, of -forty years ago pierced her heart. Youth goes down every lane, and -these two, just after their marriage, just before the first loan he had -made, had been, for a month or so, young: the memory of it was a jewel -to her. - -He came in at that instant loosened: he was walking ill: he made -towards her as though he were seeking a refuge, and still that -persistent innocence shone from his eyes. He sat down beside her, -breathing uncertainly, groped out and took her hand. He had made no -such movement since--what year? Since before what first hardening had -frightened her? How many years, how long a life ago? - -The mood was of no long duration. She could have wished it had been -longer. He slept with a sort of deep lethargy that was not his way, and -twice in the night she rose to watch him; but with the morning all his -powers and, alas! all that difference had returned. - -She was to see nothing of him while he went through every detail of his -affairs for the week and the month with his assistant; she was not even -to be allowed to see something of him at his midday meal; she watched -him as he went out of the house at the invariable hour to drive to the -office of the Court of Dowry. And as she watched him with new feelings -in her, and the breaking of dead crusts, she saw another man accost -him, the cab turned away, and the two go together, walking, towards -the Park. She knew the figure though she came so little into the life -of London, and she recognised, in the sloppy clothes and the stooping -walk, the Prime Minister. - - * * * * * - -If you are a member of the governing classes of this great Empire it is -not an easy thing to approach a house between the Edgware Road and Hyde -Park from the North, at half-past nine in the morning it is supremely -difficult if you are making for Westminster. - -It presupposes being carted at an impossible hour to some place in the -North West, and there let loose and making a run for home. And why -should any man of position be carted to any place in the North West at -dawn? On the whole the best excuse is Paddington Station. Eton is a -good place to come from, for the liar comes in at Paddington. It was -from Eton, therefore, that the Prime Minister came that morning ... -anyhow he was N.W. of the Park before nine. He walked slowly towards -the Marble Arch. As he approached Charles Repton’s house he walked -somewhat more slowly, but he had timed himself well. - -The tall straight figure came out and hailed a cab. - -The Prime Minister crossed before him, turned round in amiable -surprise, and said: “My _dear_ Repton!” - -And Repton greeted, with somewhat less effusion, the Prime Minister. - -“I was walking from Paddington,” said the Prime Minister. - -“Have you eaten?” said Sir Charles, as he paid the cabman a shilling -for nothing. - -“Yes, I breakfasted before I started. I was walking down to -Westminster. Can’t you come with me?” - -Sir Charles found it perfectly easy, and the two men walked through the -Park together towards Hyde Park Corner and Constitution Hill. - -To most men the difficulty of the transition from daily converse to -important transactions is so difficult that they will postpone it -to the very end of an interview. The Prime Minister was not of that -kind. They had not got two hundred yards beyond that large arena near -the Marble Arch wherein every Sunday the Saxon folk thresh out and -determine for ever the antinomy of predestination and free will--not -to mention other mysteries of the Christian religion,--when the Prime -Minister had reminded Charles Repton of the absolute necessity of a new -man on the Government bench in the House of Lords. - -Charles Repton heartily agreed, and for ten minutes gave his reasons. -He hoped, he said in an iron sort of way, that he was talking sense, -and that he was not meddling with things not his business. He was -warmly encouraged to go on, and he minutely described the kind of -man whom he thought was wanted. They had too many business men as it -was, and there were too many men fresh from the House of Commons. The -Government forces in the Upper House had come to be a sort of clique, -half of them very intelligent, but now and then, especially in big -debates, out of touch with their colleagues. Could not some man of real -position, a man with a long established title, wealthy and thoroughly -well known if only in a small world for some proficiency of his, be got -to take an interest in the Government programme? A man like Pulborough, -for instance? If Pulborough had had to earn his living he would have -been the best bantam breeder alive. And then, look at his talents, why, -he designed all the new work at Harberry himself, etc. And so forth. - -As they were crossing by the Wellington statue, the Prime Minister, in -the uneasy intervals of dodging the petrol traffic, explained that that -was not in his mind. He must have some one who had heard everything -in the Cabinet for the last two years. “Repton,” he said ... (as they -left the refuge pavement--a taxi-cab all but killed him).... “Repton, -would you, have you thought of ....” Two gigantic motor-buses swerved -together and the politicians were separated. The Prime Minister saw the -Warden far ahead, a successful man, whole upon the further shore. The -Prime Minister leapt in front of a bicycle, caught the kerb and ended -his sentence “... a peerage yourself?” - -They had come through all the perils of that space and were walking -quietly down Constitution Hill; Dolly could develop his thought more -freely, and in the most natural way in the world he put it that they -could not do without Charles Repton. - -He was very careful not to force the position. Charles Repton was -absolutely essential: they must have him or they must have nobody. - -An Egyptian smile, a smile of granite, could be guessed rather than -seen upon Charles Repton’s firm lips. - -“Would you propose that I should be Master of the Horse?” he said. - -“No,” said the Prime Minister, smiling very much more easily, “nor -Manager of the King’s Thoroughbred Stud, either. But I know that -Abenford is mortally tired of the Household; though what there is to be -tired of,” he added.... - -To the Prime Minister’s very great surprise, Charles Repton simply -replied: “If I went to the Lords, I should go without office.” - -At this unexpected solution the Prime Minister was in duty bound to -propose a hundred reasons against it. He implored Repton to remember -his great position and the peculiar value that he had for him, the -Prime Minister. “It’s never more than three men that do the work, -Repton, whether you’re dealing with ten in committee or half a -thousand. You know that.” - -But Charles Repton was firm. These solid masters of finance are glad -to think out their world; in a sense nothing comes to them that is -unexpected when it comes. Their brains may be compared to the great -new War Office in Whitehall, where a hundred minutely detailed plans -for the invasion of Germany, France, Russia, Spain, Italy and the -Baltic States, lie pigeonholed, in perfect order, ready to be put -into immediate execution at the pronouncement of the stern words -_Krieg-mobil_. - -Long before the simple intrigues of the drawing-rooms had taken shape, -Charles Repton had swept the whole landscape with his inward eye. He -knew every fold of the terrain, he had measured every range. He had -determined that, upon the whole, a peerage was worth his while: now; at -the very height of his fortune. - -To have a permanent place, free from office, with the prestige -of title, with committees open to him and every official source -permanently to his hand, was worth his while. It was worth his while -to go to the House of Lords had it been a matter for his free choice; -and if he went to the House of Lords he must go a free man. It would do -more to save Van Diemens than any other step, and that great Company -was worth twenty places in the Cabinet. Van Diemens was the master of -this Cabinet and the last. - -He had made up his mind then that a peerage was worth his while even -if it depended entirely on his choice. Now that he could make it a -favour, it was doubly worth his while. The alternative meant useless -friction.... Yes, he would take that peerage: but there was one thing -that he must have quite clear:---- - -The two men walked together in silence past the Palace; they went -through the superb new entrance to St. James’s Park, crossed the -bridge, and turned towards Westminster. - -It had been a shock. The relief for the Prime Minister was somewhat too -great, and the last thing that Repton had to say was awkward; but he -was accustomed to leap such hedges. He began boldly: - -“Do you happen to know what I have set aside for the regular purposes -of the Party?” he asked. - -The Prime Minister shook his head. If there was one thing he detested, -it was the kitchen side of politics. - -“Well, I’ll tell you,” said Repton. “I’ve put exactly the same sum -aside every year for fifteen years, whether we’ve been in office or out -of it. Not a large sum, only five hundred pounds. Pottle will tell you.” - -The Premier made such a movement with his head as showed that he did -not care. - -“Only five hundred pounds but exactly five hundred pounds,” continued -Repton firmly. “Now Pottle must understand quite clearly that that -subscription will neither be increased nor diminished.” He spoke as men -speak in a shop, and in a shop of which they have the whip hand. - -“That’s between you and Pottle,” said the Prime Minister in the tone of -one who doesn’t want to go on with the subject. - -“Yes,” said Repton, looking straight in front of him, “it _has_ got to -be understood quite clearly. I’ve made it a standing order. Pottle’s -never pestered me, but he _can_ pester like the deuce.... And I’ve -absolutely made up my mind.” - -“Of course, of course,” said the Prime Minister. “I think it’s wise,” -he went on,--“It isn’t my business, but I do think it wise to keep in -touch with the Central Office. But it’s between you and Pottle.” - -There was another long silence as they went down Great George Street. - -“That’s all,” said Repton, opposite the Pugin fountain. The two men -walked on. The statues of great men long dead looked down upon them; -those statues were unused to such conversations. One of the statues -must have thought Charles Repton a tactless fellow, but Charles -Repton had calculated everything, even to his chances of life and to -the number of active years that probably lay before him. And nothing -would have more offended or disturbed him than any ambiguity upon the -business side of the transaction. - -They parted, one for the Court of Dowry, the other for Downing Street, -and the affair was settled. - - * * * * * - -That afternoon the Prime Minister asked Demaine to come and have a -cup of tea. He said he would rather it was in his own room; he took -Demaine’s arm and led him round. - -“Have you anything on to-night, Dimmy?” he said. - -Dimmy thought. “I don’t know,” he answered after a long examination of -possible engagements. - -“Well, you’ve got to be here for the division anyhow.” - -“Oh yes,” said Dimmy. His high record of divisions was the sheet anchor -of his soul: he had sat up all night sixteen times. - -“Well,” said the Prime Minister hesitating, as though after all he -didn’t want to drink a cup of tea, “you might see me then ... no, come -along now.” - -And as they drank their tea he told his companion that there was to be -a change in the Cabinet. - -“Now,” he said, “I want to leave you perfectly free.” He seemed to be -suffering a little as he said it, but he went on tenaciously: “I want -to leave you perfectly free; ... but of course you know your name has -been put before me?” - -“I don’t know,” began Demaine. - -The Prime Minister stopped him with his hand. “Well, anyhow it _has_.” -He paused and thought. “I can’t tell how it would suit you, but I think -I can tell how you would suit it. Now on _that_ point I’m satisfied, -Dimmy. You know the kind of work it is?” - -But Demaine didn’t know. - -“Well,” said the Prime Minister, leaning back easily and joining his -hands, “it’s like all those things: you’ve got your staff ... in one -way the work’s cut and dried. It’s very varied work. No man can be -expected to grasp it all round. But,” (leaning forward) “like all these -things, it wants a sort of general point of view, you understand me?” - -Dimmy did not dare to shake his head. - -“It wants a sort of ...” the Prime Minister swept his hand over the -table--“a sort of what I may call a--well, a--a _common sense_, -especially about sudden things. You have to decide sometimes.... But -you’ll soon get into it,” he added in a tone of relief. “You’ll have -Sorrel with you all the first few days; he’s exceedingly easy to get on -with; he’s been there for years--that is, of course, if you take it.” - -“Yes,” said Demaine in a whirl, “yes, if I take it I shall have Sorrel.” - -“Then of course,” went on the Prime Minister rapidly, “it’s the kind -of place which you can make anything of. It can count enormously; it -counted enormously under Gherkin until he died. And Repton of course -has made quite a splash in it.” - -Demaine shuddered slightly. - -“But there’s no necessity,” continued the other quickly, “it’s really -better without a splash. It’s a plodding sort of attention that’s -wanted,” he ended wearily; then with an afterthought he added: “Why -not go to Sorrel now?” - -“Couldn’t you give me a note?” asked Demaine nervously. - -“Oh nonsense,” answered his cousin, upon whom the strain was beginning -to tell. “Just go up and see him in his office. He’s the mildest of -men.” - -“All right,” said Demaine sighing. He finished his tea and went -out,--and as he left the Prime Minister called after him: “Don’t forget -to find me after the division to-night. Then I can tell you if anything -is settled.” - -Demaine walked undeterminedly towards the Dowry Offices behind Scotland -Yard; his heart failed him; he did not go in. He stood aimlessly in -Whitehall, staring at the traffic; his knees were not quite straight -and his mouth was half open. - -Past him, as he so stood, strode, full of vigour and of will, the -fixed form of Sir Charles Repton, walking towards Trafalgar Square. -The younger man followed him with his eyes and felt in his heart what -a gulf there was between them. He was by no means of those who dare, -and the thought of office appalled him. Then suddenly he remembered the -salary. His legs straightened beneath him and he forced himself up the -stairs to where he might ask to see Mr. Sorrel. - - - - -CHAPTER VIII - - -Sir Charles Repton strode up Whitehall. His day’s work had been heavy, -in the hours since that morning conversation, and he was suffering. - -It was no spiritual suffering which affected that strong character: -his life was fixed; the decision he had taken was final. Nay, every -circumstance surrounding that decision delighted him. The peerage had -been offered at precisely the right moment; he himself could have -chosen no better. It was the moment when he particularly desired to -be at once more powerful, if that could be, and yet free; more fixed -in his political tenure, yet more at large to catch the hand of -opportunity. For all his strategy was centred upon the Company which he -was determined to save. - -That from which he now suffered was physical; he suffered that pain at -the back of the head: it had a novel intensity about it; it was not -exactly a headache, it was a sort of weight, an oppression, and as he -went on northward the pressure got worse and more concentrated just -behind either ear. - -He would not relax his pace. He saw a taxi which had just discharged -a fare at Cox’s Bank; in spite of the trouble in his head which was -rapidly increasing, he was clear enough to note that the little flag -was up, that the man was free and was about to go away. He signalled to -him and got in, and gave the address of his house, bidding him call at -the Club on his way. - -He remembered, though the bother was getting worse, that there was a -big dinner that evening; he tried to remember the names, then quite -suddenly a stab of pain behind the right ear almost made him cry out. -But Repton was indomitable and he stifled the cry. Hardly had he so -conquered himself when he felt another similar violent agony behind -the left ear: a man less master of himself would have fainted. It was -over in a moment, but he was white and actually uncertain of his steps -when he got out at the Club and went up to the porter’s box to ask for -letters and messages. There were none. - -“Are you certain there are none?” he asked in a weak voice. - -That query was so unusual from the man that the porter looked up -surprised. - -“Don’t look at me as though I was stuffed,” said Sir Charles sharply, -“don’t you know what your place is worth?” - -The man grumbled a little. - -With the most unworthy ferocity, but perhaps the pain must excuse him, -Sir Charles bent his head in to the little window in the glass and -hissed: “This kind of thing has happened before. Just you bally well -sort the papers in front of you and make sure.” - -His hands were trembling with constricted rage the porter ran through -the bundle, and found a card. - -“What did I tell you, you b----y snipe!” darted the now uncontrollable -Baronet. Then recovering himself he said with no shame but in a little -confusion: “I’ve had enough of this.” He looked at the card: it was an -advertisement inviting him to spend a week for eleven guineas in lovely -Lucerne, and there was a picture of the Rigi Kulm. He tore the card up -savagely, threw it into the waste-paper basket, hurriedly went down the -steps of his Club, bolted into the taxi and slammed the door behind him. - -The driver had let the engine stop. Sir Charles sat tapping either -foot, his eyes alight, and his hands working nervously. The man was -working the barrel organ in front of the machine; the piston started -once or twice vigorously, then died down again. Sir Charles got out. - -“If you can’t make your damn kettle go,” he said,--then he suddenly -smiled. “What a good-natured face you have,” he remarked with an abrupt -transition of tone. “It’s a brutal thing for men like me with enormous -incomes to bully people who have to be out in all weathers, though I -must say you taxi-men are a privileged lot! You’ve always got a herd -of poor fellows round you, running messages for you and what not. You -know,” he went on still more familiarly, “if you didn’t look so jolly -good-natured I wouldn’t get into the cab again: but I will now. I will -now,” he nodded reassuringly to show there was no ill-feeling, and he -climbed again into the taxi, which at last started off upon its journey. - -Sir Charles, within that vehicle, preserved for some moments the -expression of strong silence which was at least one-half of his -fortune. Suddenly that expression broke down; something tickled him -hugely. Such a merry look came into his eyes as had perhaps not visited -them since he was a child--if then. It occurred to him to look out of -the window. The fact that the window was up in no way incommoded him. -He butted his head through it and then very cautiously drew it in again. - -“That’s dangerous,” he muttered, “might have cut myself.” - -The driver of the taxi heard nothing. Sir Charles looked through the -star of broken glass for a moment, then cautiously lowered the sash. He -put his head out again, smiling almost to the point of laughter, and -asked the driver whether he had noticed the absurd pomposity of the -two sentries and the policemen outside Marlborough House. The taxi man -simply said “Yes sir,” and went on driving. - -For a few minutes Sir Charles was silent, ruminating and smiling -within. Then he put his head out again. - -“Yes, but did you?” he asked. - -And just at that point the traffic was stopped to allow a cross current -from another street to pass. - -“What a fool a man can make of himself,” said Sir Charles suddenly -to nobody, communing half aloud with his own soul. “It’s an amazing -thing! I can’t conceive why I should put my head out of a window like -that to tell him the way.... I suppose I was telling him the way ... -but my head is so bad!... What a fool a man can make of himself!” The -sternness of his expression returned. He remembered that the taxi-man -knew his address and he bethought him how to escape from humiliation. -When they had driven up to his house he would pretend it was the wrong -number and drive somewhere else. - -Yet again his mood changed and he burst into an explosion of laughter -as he remembered the sentries. Then the name over a shop which recalled -to him certain mortgages tickled his fancy. He almost stopped the taxi -to get out and have a bout of fun with the proprietors of that shop but -he was going swiftly through the streets and he preferred his ease. - -Long before they reached the Marble Arch he had forgotten all about -his intention of secrecy. Nay, he had forgotten about his dinner; he -only knew he was going home. And when he got out he saw upon the little -machine the notice “1/10.” - -“The register marks one and tenpence,” he said slowly and gravely -to the driver, upon whose honest and happy face the tendency to -astonishment was hardly controlled. “Now I don’t think these machines -are infallible--far from it--but it isn’t worth my while, you -understand, to argue it. So there’s one and tenpence.” He laboriously -counted out the money. “Wait a moment,” he said, “give me back three -coppers.” - -The man hesitated. - -“Give me back three coppers,” snapped Sir Charles testily, “I want to -get rid of a thruppeny-bit,” and he handed over the offensive coin. - -“Now wait a minute, wait a minute,” he added, “don’t be in a hurry. I -always give a tip to taxi drivers--I really don’t know why,” he said -with a sudden change of expression, “there’s no particular favour, and -they earn lots of money. But one’s got to--I suppose if one didn’t,” -he continued in a ruminative tone, “they’d mark one in some way, same -way they do the boxes in hotels, and your watch, me boy, when you pawn -it,” he ended with an explosion of mirth, digging the man sharply in -the ribs. “Eh?” He pulled out two pence, added another penny, and then -another, took out a sixpence, put it back again, finally put the three -pence into the man’s hand, and went up to his door. - -The taxi-man as he was driving off nodded familiarly to a policeman, -and, by drawing up all one side of his face while he left the other in -repose, gave it to be understood that he had grave doubts of the mental -balance of the gentleman whom he had just conveyed to his residence. - -Alas, for simple men! The policeman strode up to him, rated him -soundly, asked what he meant by it, and in general gave him to -understand that he was dealing with no ordinary household. And the -taxi-man, who was but recently landed from the sea, went off pondering, -as far as the congested traffic would allow him, upon the mysteries of -London. - -The policeman solemnly returned to his duty, which was that of guarding -the residence of so great a citizen, and Sir Charles, putting his hat -upon the table in the hall, went past the two servants upon whose -presence in that vestibule he insisted, and walked majestically up the -staircase, as though the last half-hour had not been. - -But he felt during this progress unaccountable desires. Before he was -half-way up they were too strong for him. He stopped, leaned over the -bannisters, looked at the two well-trained domestics who stood like -statues below him, and said: “Henry!” - -Henry, with a perfect turn of the head, answered, “Yes, Sir Charles?” - -“William!” - -William, with a precisely similar change of attitude, said, “Yes, Sir -Charles?” - -“What does it feel like to stand like that when another man, who simply -happens to be richer than you, is going by?” - -The well-trained domestics made no reply. - -“Are you dumb?” he shouted angrily. “What’s it feel like, I say?... -Blasted fools!” he muttered, when he had endured for a few seconds -their continued silence. He went on up the stairs, saying half to -himself and half to them: “Catch _me_ doing it. Why, there’s more money -in a whelk stall!” - -He found his wife reading. She put down her book and asked him timidly -what had been going on in the House. - -His only answer was to put his hand to his head and say that he was -suffering. - -And so he was, for the pain, though less violent, had returned. She -suggested, though very hesitatingly, that he should lie down. He made -no reply. He put his hand before his eyes and waited with set teeth -until the first violence of the pang had passed, and then said to her -gently: “I beg your pardon, dear, what did you say?” - -It was nearly twenty years since she had heard that tone from him. She -was frightened. - -“Did you ask what was going on in the House?” he sighed. “Well, I can -tell you.” He put his hands on the chimneypiece and looked down at -the fender. “There’s going on there,” he said decidedly, “as crass, -imbecile and hypocritical a piece of futility as God permits: as -Almighty God permits!” - -“Oh Charles!” she cried, “Charles! Is there any trouble?” - -“No,” he said, looking round at her with mild surprise, “just the -usual thing. Nobody has the slightest idea what they’re talking about, -and nobody cares.” - -“Charles!” she said, feeling the gravity of the moment, for he was -evidently suffering in some mysterious way. “Have you left it all right -in your room? Haven’t you any appointments or anything?” - -“I never thought of that,” he answered. His eyes had in them an -expression quite childlike and he said suddenly: “One can still see -what you were like when I married you, Maria. Turn your face round a -little.” - -She did so, with her face full of colour. - -“Yes,” he said, “they keep their profiles best. You can remember them -by their profiles.” - -“Charles darling,” said Lady Repton getting up, her white hair shining -against the flush of her forehead. “Let me look after you.” She had not -used such a tone nor dreamed of such an endearment for many many years. - -“I don’t mind, old girl,” he said, “I don’t mind,” and the innocence of -his eyes continued. Then as though something else were battling within -him he began abruptly: “Maria, have you got a full list of the people -who are coming to-night? I thought not. I’m sorry to have to speak of -it again, I told you when we first came to town, and I’ve told you -fifty times since, that I can do nothing without such a list.” - -“But I’ve got it,” she said, in great suffering, “I’ve got it, -Charles.” - -His eyes changed again. “You’ve got what?” - -“The list of the people who are coming, Charles.” - -“Oh ... I didn’t understand. The list of the people who are coming,” he -repeated slowly. “Well, show it to me in a moment.” He moved towards -the door. - -“I’ll come with you,” she said. - -For the first time since her husband had decided to enter Parliament -and had entered it, twenty years before, while their child was still -alive, Lady Repton had to take a decision of importance. She decided in -favour of the dinner. It was too late to change it, and she must trust -to chance, but evidently some terrible thing had befallen the Warden of -the Court of Dowry. - -As he was dressing she heard him now and then humming a chance tune -(a thing which in his normal self he would no more have dreamed of -doing than of walking the streets without his hat) and now and then -commenting upon the character and attributes of the opera singer -whom he had last heard sing it. She heard him launch out into a long -monologue, describing the exact career of the new soprano at Covent -Garden, the name of her father and her mother, the name of the Russian -Grand Duke, the name of a wealthy English lady who had asked her (and -him) to supper, and then, oh horror! the name of an English statesman. -There was a burst of laughter which Lady Repton could hardly bear: and -then a silence. - -When they met again and their guests had begun to come he seemed right -enough, except that now and then he would say things which every one -in the room knew well enough to be true, but which were by no means -suitable to the occasion. - -It was thought eccentric in him, especially by those who knew him best, -that he should comment somewhat upon what man was paired off with what -woman in the procession, and it was thought exceedingly coarse by his -partner that he should explain a strong itching upon his right ankle to -be due, not to a flea, for his man was most careful, but to some little -skin trouble. - -The noise of talking during the dinner covered any other indiscretions, -and when the men were alone with him over the wine, he sat gloomily -enough, evidently changed but guilty of nothing more exceptional than a -complete ignorance of where the wine came from or what it was. - -There were the beginnings of a quarrel with a pompous and little-known -fellow-member of his own Party who attempted to talk learnedly on wine. -Repton had begun, “What on earth d’you know about wine? Why, your old -father wouldn’t allow you swipes when you went to fetch the supper -beer!” He had begun thus, I say, to recall the humble origins of the -politician, when he added: “But there, what’s the good of quarreling? -You’re all the same herd,”--his evident illness excused him. He -led them back to the women, a gloomy troupe; they began to leave -uncommonly early. - -The one who lingered last was a very honest man, stupid, -straightforward and rich. He was fond of Charles Repton, simply because -Repton had once done him a very cheap good turn in the matter of a -legal dispute; he had stopped a lawsuit. And this man ever, since--it -was now five years ago,--was ready to serve that household. His name, I -should add, was Withers, and he was a Commoner; he sat for Ashington. -He had not only this loyal feeling for Charles Repton, which he was -perhaps the only man in London to feel; he had also a simple admiration -for him, for his career, for his speeches, for his power of introducing -impromptu such words as “well,” and “now” and “I will beg the House to -observe” into his careful arguments. Lady Repton trusted him, and she -was glad to see him remaining alone after the others had left. Charles -Repton was sitting at the end of the room, staring at nothingness. - -Withers whispered to Lady Repton a rapid query as to what had happened. -She could tell him nothing, but her eyes filled with tears. - -“Wouldn’t it be better,” said Withers hurriedly, in a low tone, “if I -got him back to vote to-night? There’ll be three divisions at eleven. -There’s bound to be a scandal if he doesn’t turn up.” - -“Yes--no--very well,” said Lady Repton. “I don’t understand it. I don’t -understand anything.” She almost broke down. - -“Repton,” said Withers, “won’t you come along with me? It’s half-past -ten, there’ll be three divisions.” - -Repton startled them both nearly out of their skins. “Divisions?” he -shrieked, jumping up. “Go down and maunder past those green boxes in -a great stifling pack for nothing at all? Not if I know it! Why I can -guess you the majority from here. And if there wasn’t any majority -I should blasted well like to know the difference it would make! -Divisions! Oh chase me!” And he snorted and sat down again. - -Withers did not know whether to stay or to go, but before he could -reply Charles Repton in the most ordinary of tones went on: “I can’t -understand a man like you, Withers, putting up with it. You’re rich, -you’re a gentleman born, which I’m not; you’d be just as big a man in -Buckinghamshire, especially nowadays when the county’s crawling with -Jews, if you were out of the House. You’d be infinitely freer. You know -perfectly well the country’ll stagger along without the silly tom-fool -business or with it, and that neither it nor anything else can prevent -the smash. Why don’t you go and live your life of a squire like a -sensible chap? And make one prayer that you may die before the whole -bag of tricks comes to an end?” - -“Come along, Charles,” said Withers smoothly, “do come along.” - -“Not I!” said Repton, “I’m going to bed. I’m tired, and my head hurts -me!” And he went out like a boor. - -“Lady Repton,” said Withers very gently when he had gone, “what has -Charles got to do to-morrow?” - -“He never tells me,” said the wretched lady. “I suppose he will go into -the City as usual.” - -“It’s very unwise,” said Withers, “and yet I don’t know after all. It -might help him to be in harness, and you’ll have him out of the house -while you’re making your plans. I’ll do what I can, Lady Repton, I’ll -do what I can. Isn’t to-morrow the meeting of the Van Diemens Company?” - -“I can’t tell,” said Lady Repton despairingly. She was impatient to -be seeing to her husband. She had grown terrified during the last few -hours when he was out of her sight. - -“Yes, it is,” said Withers. “Oh that’ll be all right. It’ll do him all -the good in the world: I’m sure it will. Good-night.” - -He came back again. He remembered something: “Of course,” he said a -little awkwardly, “ I don’t know anything about these things, but I -read in the paper that he was down to speak at the big Wycliffite -meeting. Don’t let him go there, Lady Repton, until you’re quite -certain, will you?” - -“Oh no,” she said with the terrified look coming back again upon her -face. - -“It’s not like business,” said Withers. “There’d be excitement, you -know. Good-night.” And he went out. - - * * * * * - -Those of Charles Repton’s guests who were Members of the House of -Commons had returned to it. One or two of them had hinted that things -were a little queer with Repton, but Withers when he got back just in -time for the divisions, found no rumours as yet, and was profoundly -grateful. One man only who had been present at the dinner, took him -aside in the Lobby and asked him whether Charles Repton had had any -trouble. - -Withers laughed the question away, and explained that he had known -Repton for many years and that now and then he did give way to these -silly fits of temper. It was digestion, he said; perhaps the guest had -noticed there were no onions. - -The House had something better to gossip about, for after the divisions -Demaine was seen going arm in arm with the Prime Minister into his room -for a moment. There had been plenty of talk of Demaine lately: that -visit increased it. - - * * * * * - -Certain members more curious or fussy than the rest scoured the -journalists in the lobbies: they had news. - -It was all settled. The paragraphs had been sent round to the papers. -The Lobby correspondents had each of them quite special and peculiar -means of knowing that Certain Changes were expected in the Cabinet in -the near future; that the House of Lords was to be strengthened by the -addition of talents which were universally respected; several names had -been mentioned for the vacancy; perhaps Mr. Demaine, with his special -training and the experience drawn from his travels would, on the -whole, form the most popular appointment. - -Thus had the announcement been given in its vaguest form by the Prime -Minister’s secretary; two or three favoured journals had been permitted -to say without doubt that Charles Repton had resigned; the exact title -under which he would accept a peerage was suggested, and Demaine was -put down in black and white as being certainly his successor. - -All this Demaine was told meanwhile that evening in the Prime -Minister’s room. - -His interview with Sorrel had been exceedingly satisfactory, and -never in his life, not in the moments when he could spend most of his -father-in-law’s money, had Demaine experienced so complete a respect -and so eager a service. He felt himself already Warden, and what was -better, he felt himself perfectly capable of the Wardenship. His mood -rose and rose. He forgot Sudie; he had not even told her when he would -be home. He shook his cousin’s hand as warmly as might a provincial, -and went out by the entry under Big Ben, to calm down the exuberance of -his joy with breaths of the fresh night air along the Embankment. It -was nearly twelve o’clock. - -So ended for George Mulross Demaine that Monday, June 1st, 1915. - - - - -CHAPTER IX - - -When Sir Charles Repton woke upon the Tuesday morning he felt better -than he had felt at any moment since the loss of his youth. There -seemed something easy in the air about him, and within his mind a lack -of business and friction which he did not account for at the time, but -which perhaps in a vague manner he may have ascribed to the purity of -the air and the beauty of the day. - -The sun was streaming into his windows from over the Park. It was -already warm, and as he dressed and shaved himself he allowed his -thoughts to wander with an unaccustomed freedom over the simple -things of life. He noted the colour of the trees; he was glad to see -the happiness of the passers-by in the streets below; he felt an -unaccountable sympathy with the human race, and he was even touched -with contempt as he gazed at the long procession of wealthy houses -which marked the line of Park Lane. - -At breakfast he ate heartily, though he was alone; he looked at the -small batch of letters which awaited him, and when he opened his -newspaper he positively laughed at the opinions expressed in the -leading article. He nearly broke into another laugh as he read the news -from America, and then--with a gesture which horrified the two solemn -servants who had watched the unaccountable change in their master’s -manner, he tore the paper rapidly into four pieces and threw it on the -floor. Having done this he jumped up gaily, nodded to the menials, said -“You didn’t expect that,” walked briskly out, took his hat and coat -and with no conscious purpose but as habit moved him jumped into a -motor-bus going East. - -The conductor, who had a respect for Sir Charles Repton’s clothes, and -especially for his spats, and who seemed to recognise his face, asked -him gently how much he desired to spend upon a ticket: to which he -answered in a breezy manner, “Penny of course. Never pay more than a -penny; then if the beastly thing breaks down you’re not out of pocket -... ’sides which,” he went on as though talking to himself, “if they -forget about you you can have tuppence-worth or thruppence-worth for -the same money!” And he chuckled. - -The conductor looked at him first in terror, then smiled responsively -and went forward to deal with less fortunate people, while Sir Charles -hummed gently to himself,--a little out of tune but none the less -cheerfully on that account--an air of ribald associations. - -The top of the bus was pretty full, and a workman who had occasion to -travel in the same direction as his betters saw fit to sit down in -the one empty place beside the Baronet. It would have been difficult -to decide upon what occupation this honest man had most recently -been engaged: but there had certainly entered into it oil, wet clay, -probably soot, and considerable masses of oxidised copper. It was not -remarkable, therefore, that, beside such a companion, especially as -that companion was a large man, Sir Charles should have found himself -considerably incommoded. What _was_ remarkable was the manner in which -the Baronet expressed his annoyance. He turned round upon the workman -with an irritated frown and said: - -“I can’t make out why they allow people like you on omnibuses!” - -“Yer carn’t wort?” said the breadwinner in a threatening voice. - -“I say I · can’t · make · out,” answered Sir Charles, carefully picking -out each word--“I · can’t · make · out · why · they · allow · people · -like · you on omnibuses,--dirty _brutes_ like you, I should say. Why -the devil....” - -At this moment the workman seized Sir Charles by the collar. Sir -Charles, though an older man, was by no means weak; his tall body was -well-knit and active, and he felt unaccountably brawny that morning; he -got the thumb and forefinger of his left hand like a pitchfork under -his opponent’s chin, and there began what promised to be a very pretty -scuffle. Everybody on the top of the bus got up, a woman tittered, and -a large consequential fellow who attempted to interfere received a -violent backhander from the huge left hand of the Operative, the wrist -of which was firmly grasped by the right of the Politician and was -struggling in the air. - -The bus stopped, a crowd gathered, the workman, as is customary with -hard-working people, was easily appeased; Sir Charles, a good deal -ruffled, got off the bus, and pressing two shillings into the hand of a -policeman who was preparing to take notes, said loudly: - -“That’s all right! You can’t do anything against _me_, and of course I -can prevent the thing getting into the papers; but it’s always better -to give a policeman money,--safe rule!” - -With that he wormed his way through the increasing mob and disappeared -into a taxi, the driver of which, with singular sagacity, drove off -rapidly without asking for any direction. When he was well out of it, -Repton put his head out of the window and addressed the driver in the -following remarkable words: - -“I don’t really know where you’d better go: of course if you go to my -Club I could change there” (his collar was torn off him and his hat was -badly battered) “but on the whole you’d better take me to Guy’s--No -you hadn’t, go to the Club. Stop at a Boy Messenger’s on your way.” - -“What Club, sir?” asked the driver with the deference due to a man at -once wealthy and mad. - -“You won’t know it,” said Sir Charles kindly and still craning in a -constrained manner out of the window. “By the way, why don’t they have -a speaking-tube or something from inside to you people? It’s awkward -turning one’s head outside like a snake. You won’t know it, but I’ll -shout to you when we get to the bottom of St. James’s Street.” - -The driver, now convinced that he had to do with something quite out -of the ordinary, touched his cap in a manner almost military, and fled -through the streets of London. At a Boy Messenger’s office Sir Charles -sent home for clothes and for a change, got to his Club, informed the -astonished porter that it was a very fine day, that he had just had a -fight on the top of a bus, that by God the Johnnie didn’t know who he -was tackling! He, Sir Charles, was no longer a young man, but he would -have shown him what an upper cut was if he could have got a free swing! -He proceeded to illustrate the nature of this fence--then suddenly -asked for his letters, and for a dressing-room. - -After this, which had all been acted in the most rapid and violent -manner, he ran up the steps, stood for a few moments with his hands -in his pockets gazing at the telegrams, and forgetful that he had no -collar on, that his coat was torn, that there was blood upon his hands, -and that half of his waistcoat was wide open with two buttons missing. -He found the telegrams of some interest; he did not notice the glances -directed towards him by those who passed in and out of the building, -nor the act of a page who in passing the porter’s box tapped his -forehead twice with his forefinger. - -He stood for a moment in thought, then it suddenly occurred to him that -it would have been a wiser thing to have gone straight home. He got -another taxi and drove to his house. There, after a brief scene with -the footman in which he rehearsed all that he had already given them at -the Club, he ordered his clothes to be put out for him, and took a very -comfortable bath. - -Luckily for him he found lying upon his table when he came down, a note -which he had left there the night before with regard to the Van Diemens -meeting. - -“Forgot that,” he said, a little seriously. “Good thing I found it.” - -He picked it up, folded it once or twice, unfolded it, re-read it -perhaps three times, and while he was so employed heard the grave voice -of his secretary begging him to go into town in the motor. - -Repton did not for the moment see any connection between his recent -adventures and this request, but he was all compliance, and nodding -cheerfully he waited for the machine to come round. When it had come he -looked at it closely for a moment, confided to the chauffeur that he -intensely disliked its colour, but that it was a bargain and he wasn’t -going to spend any money on changing it, because he meant to sell it -to some fool at the end of the season--got in, and was driven to the -Cannon Street Hotel. - -He was a little late. The platform was already occupied and his empty -chair was waiting for him. - -At his entry there was some applause, such as would naturally greet -the man who was known to be the Directing Brain of all that interest. -None noticed a change in him. His clothes were perhaps a little less -spick and span: it was unusual to see him stretch his arms two or three -times before he sat down, and those who knew him best, in his immediate -neighbourhood upon the platform, were astonished to see him smile and -nod familiarly to several of the less important Directors; but on the -whole he behaved himself in a fairly consecutive manner, and if he did -whisper to a colleague upon his right that he looked as though he had -been drinking a little too much overnight, the unaccustomed jest was -allowed to pass without comment. - -When the moment came for him to speak, he jumped up, perhaps a little -too briskly, faced his audience with less than his usual solemnity, -nay, with something very like a grin, and struck the first note of his -great speech in a manner which they had hitherto never heard from his -lips. - -It was certainly calculated to compel their attention if not their -conviction, for the very first words which he shouted into the body of -the hall, were these: - -“_WHAT ARE WE HERE FOR?_” - -After that rhetorical question, delivered in a roar that would have -filled the largest railway station in London, he repeated it in a -somewhat lower tone, clenched his fists, struck them squarely on the -table, and answered as though he were delivering a final judgment: - -“_MONEY!...._ - -Ladies and gentlemen,” he went on, raising his right hand and wagging -his forefinger at them--“we are here for money! And don’t you forget -it!” - -He blew a great breath, watched them quizzically a moment and then -continued: - -“What _most_ of you _most_ lack is the power of thinking clearly. I can -see it in your faces. I can see it in the way you sit. And people who -can’t think clearly don’t make _money_. No one can think clearly who -hasn’t got a good grip of his first principles and doesn’t know first -of all what he wants before he tries to get it. Well, I repeat it, and -I challenge any one to deny it: what we want is _money_! Let us make -that quite clear. Let us anchor ourselves to that ... and when we once -have that thoroughly fixed in our minds we can go on to the matter of -how we are to get it.” - -“Now ladies and gentlemen,” he proceeded in a more conversational -manner, rubbing his hands together, and smiling at them with excessive -freedom, “let us first of all take stock. Sitting here before me and -round me here upon this platform (he waved his right arm in a large -gesture) are four million pounds of Van Diemens stock. Four million -pounds, ladies and gentlemen! But wait a moment. At what price was -that stock bought? I am not asking at what price _I_ bought,”--here -he looked to the left and the right, sweeping the hundreds of faces -before him--“I am not asking at what price _I_ bought: my position -differs from yours, my hearties; I’m in the middle of things and my -official position obtains me even more knowledge than I should gather -with my own very excellent powers of observation: I’ve spent a whole -lifetime in watching markets, and I have never cared a _dump_--I -repeat, ladies and gentlemen, a DUMP, for anything except the profit. I -have never listened to any talk about the ‘development of a country’ or -‘possibilities’ or ‘the future,’ or any kid of that sort. I’ve bought -paper and sold paper ... and I’ve done uncommonly well out of it.” - -He paused a moment, more for breath than for anything else, for he -had been speaking very rapidly; and in the terrified silence round -him Bingham was heard muttering as though in reply to some whispered -question: “You leave him _alone_! It may be unconventional, but....” - -“The question is, ladies and gentlemen, at what price have you bought -... on the average? Many of you are country parsons, many of you ladies -with far more money than you have knowledge what to do with it. Not -a few of you stock-brokers--an exceptionally inexperienced class of -men--you are a fair average lot of British investors, and I ask _at -what price did you buy?_” He looked at them fixedly for a few moments, -then pulling out a scrap of paper he read it briefly: - -“‘From figures that have been laid before me I find that the average -price at which the present shareholders bought was eight pounds sixteen -shillings and a few pence,’” and then added “We’ll call it eight -pounds. Always be on the Conservative side.” - -At this remark, which was supposed to contain a political jest, two -old ladies in the second row tittered, but finding themselves alone, -stopped tittering. - -“I say take it at eight pounds. Well, that four million of stock stands -for thirty-two million pounds. _Thirty-two million pounds!_” he said -with a rising voice--“THIRTY-TWO MILLION POUNDS!” he roared,--banging -the table with his fist and leaning forward with a determined jowl.... -“And what’s left of it? _Nothing!_” - -There was another dead silence at the end of this striking phrase, and -Bingham was again heard to mutter: “You leave him _alone_; he knows -what he’s at!” A certain uneasy shuffling of feet behind him caused -Repton to turn his head snappishly, then he looked round again and -resumed his great oration. - -“I say _nothing_.... Oh! I know there are some of you stupid enough -to think that you have still got sixteen and thruppence a share. -That was the quotation in the paper this morning. Eugh!” he sniffed -sardonically, “You try and _sell_ at that and you’ll soon find what -you’ve got! No! you haven’t even got that sixteen and thruppence. You -haven’t got two shillings in the pound for what you put in. You’ve got -nothing! nothing! nothing!! Put that in your pipes and smoke it....” - -“And so, gentlemen,” he added, leaning his body backwards and putting -his thumbs into his waistcoat, “the business before us is how to get -out of this hole. There are perhaps some of you,” he went on, frowning -intellectually, “there are perhaps some of you who imagine that the -Government is going to buy. Well, I’m a member of the Government and I -can tell you they are _not_.” - -At this appalling remark the elements of revolution upon the platform -all but exploded, but the solid weight of Bingham was still there, and -if I may hint at a phrase with which the reader is already familiar, -he suggested that Sir Charles knew what he was about and should be let -_alone_. - -“Even if they did buy,” Repton went on seriously and argumentatively, -“they could hardly buy at more than par. I’m the last man,” he -continued rapidly “to jaw about public opinion or things of that sort. -The real reason why they won’t buy is the Irish. But even if they did -buy they could hardly give more than par. And what’s par?” he said with -great disdain. “No, that cock won’t fight!... Mind you, I’m not saying -you couldn’t have got the Government to buy a little time ago. I think -you could. But you can’t now.” - -“I don’t think there’s a single man on either front bench--” this was -said meditatively and tapping off the fingers of one hand with the -forefinger of the other--“who’s personally interested, and I don’t -_think_ there’s any direct connection since Cooke died between the -Cabinet and any one who is--except me. No, that’s not the way out. What -you’ve got to do, ladies and gentlemen, is to throw a sprat to catch a -whale.” - -“A sprat,” he meditatively repeated, “to catch a whale: a great Whale -full o’ blubber! ... an’ how are you going to do that?” - -“Now listen”--his tone had become very earnest and he was leaning -forward, bent and fixed and holding them with his fine strong eyes, -“listen, there are three steps. You’ve got first of all to show the -public that you _believe_ in the future of the Company; next you’ve -got to decide upon a dodge to show that: something that’ll make every -one think that you the shareholders do really believe in that future. -What’s the third step? Why up goes the price--real price--money -offered--_then you can sell_. That’s my opinion,” he concluded, -clapping his hands together and laying them upon the table before him: -and he let it sink in. - -“Now you’ll notice,” he went on, “in the prospectus you have received, -some talk of a railway. We’re asking money from you to build a railway. -Now why are we doing that? Please follow me carefully.” - -The hundreds of heads bent forward and the intelligences they contained -were prepared to follow him carefully. He was a great man. - -“We have asked you to build a railway,” he pronounced, leaving a little -space of time between each word, “because a railway still catches -on. I don’t know why, but it _does_. Mines don’t. You might discover -ore all over the place and they wouldn’t go: I’ve got two men of -my own, engineers, _experts_, who’ll discover ore anywhere; they’d -discover tons before three o’clock this afternoon and you might swear -your dying oath to them, but the public wouldn’t believe you. As for -agriculture,--Piff! And as for climate, Boo! But _railways_ still work.” - -“Very well. You raise your capital for your railway. What that railway -may be imagined to do is set out in full before you and I won’t go into -it. But I will ask you especially to note the passage in which it is -described as giving a strategical supremacy to the Empire. You know -what the Empire is. You _may_ know, some o’ you, what strategy is. -Looks as if there were a fleecy general or two among you! But that’s -as may be--just note the phrase. It’s safety! That’s what it is! No -odds. No blighter to run any risk of having to fight any one anywhere! -Grand!”... “I _think_ also,” he mused, “something could be done with -the tourist side ... there are falls and mountains and things ... but -no matter: the point is the railway.” - -He drank from a glass of water on the table, turned round angrily and -said: “Good lord what water! It’s bad enough to have to drink water -in public for a show, but it needn’t be tepid! If the place wasn’t -so public I’d spit it out again!” Then facing the audience again: -“However.... About that railway. First understand clearly, ladies -and gentlemen, _that railway is not going to be built_! There is no -intention of building it. There is no intention of surveying it.” - -Two or three voices rose in protest at the back of the hall. Sir -Charles leaned forward and put out his hand appealingly:-- - -“One moment, one moment pray! Hear me out! I don’t mean that _no_ one -will build it. That’s not our funeral. I mean that _we_ won’t. The -‘Company’ may, whatever that means. But you and I--the people who have -got into this hole--_we_ won’t. It won’t be _our_ money. Seize that! -Get a hold of that! It’s the key to the whole business.” - -Little gasps and one profound sigh, but no interruptions followed this -explanation, and Sir Charles with perfect coolness continued: - -“What we want is five shillings a share--only five shillings a share. -Five shillings where most of you have already given a hundred and -sixty! Five shillings a share ... four million shares ... that’s a -million. And mind you, only a nominal million. We don’t want your two -half-crowns; bless you no. All we want in cash is a shilling. For the -rest, you’ll see in a moment. Well, there you are then, a shilling, a -miserable shilling. Now just see what that shilling will do!” - -“In the first place it’ll give publicity and plenty of it. Breath -of public life, publicity! Breath o’ finance too! We’ll have that -railway marked in a dotted line on the maps: all the maps: school -maps: office maps. We’ll have leaders on it and speeches on it. And -good hearty attacks on it. And th-e-n....” He lowered his voice to a -very confidential wheedle,--“the price’ll begin to creep up--Oh ... o -... oh! the _real_ price, my beloved fellow-shareholders, the price -at which one can really _sell_, the price at which one can handle the -_stuff_.” - -He gave a great breath of satisfaction. “Now d’ye see? It’ll go to -forty shillings right off, it ought to go to forty-five, it may go -to sixty!... And then,” he said briskly, suddenly changing his tone, -“then, my hearties, you blasted well sell out: you unload ... you dump -’em. Plenty more fools where your lot came from. I won’t advise,--sell -out just when you see fit. Every man for himself, and every woman -too,” he said, bowing politely to the two old ladies in the second -row,--“and the devil take the hindmost. But you’ll all have something, -you’ll none of you lose it all as it looked like last week. Most of -you’ll lose on your first price: late comers least: a few o’ ye’ll make -if you bought under two pounds. Anyhow _I_ shall.... There! if that -isn’t finance I don’t know what is!” - -And with a large happy, final, satisfactory and conclusive smile, the -Builder of Empire, to the astonishment of every one, looked at his -watch, called upon his Creator as a witness to the lateness of the -hour, and suddenly went out. - -It would be delicious to describe what happened in the vast body of -that hall when the Chief had left it: how the shareholders made a noise -like angry bees swarming; how a curate who had done no man any harm was -squashed against a wall and broke two ribs; how five or six excited -and almost tearful men surrounded the reporters and fought for their -notebooks; how Bingham continued to reiterate that Charles Repton knew -what he was at; and how a certain quiet little man with a bronzed face -and very humorous eyes, slunk out and got rid of his block of shares -within the hour, to a young hearty Colonial gentleman who was wealthy -and had come to London to learn the business ways of our City.[2] - -But I must follow Sir Charles in his rapid drive to the House of -Commons. I must mention his unconventional remark to the policeman to -the effect that he hoped that old fool Pottle hadn’t come in yet; and -his taking his place on the front bench just after prayers with a look -so merry and free that it illumined the faces opposite like a sun. - -The questions to which he had to reply came somewhat late on the paper, -and he caused not a little scandal by suggesting in a low tone such -answers to his colleagues for _their_ questions as seemed to him at -once humorous and apposite. - -The aged Home Secretary especially afforded him fine sport, and when a -question was asked with regard to the new Admiralty docks at Bosham, -he went to the length of chucking a cocked-hat note to the principal -contractor who sat solemnly upon the benches behind him, nodding -cheerfully over his shoulder and whispering loudly: “It’s all up!” - -All this boded ill for what might happen when his own turn came; and -indeed the scene that followed was of a kind entirely novel in the long -history of the House of Commons. - -It was a simple question; Question 63. Not ten minutes of question-time -were left when it was asked. It was put by a gentle little man who had -put it down for the sake of a friend who lived on the South Coast, and -it was simply to ask the right honourable Baronet, the Warden of the -Court of Dowry, whether his attention had been called to the presence -upon the Royal Sovereign shoals of a wreck which endangered navigation, -and what he intended to do in the matter. - -Charles Repton jumped up like a bird; he jovially and rapidly read the -typewritten answer which his permanent officials had given him--to the -effect that he had nothing to add to the reply given three years before -with regard to the same wreck, which was then, they were careful to -point out, far more dangerous than at the present day. - -But when he had finished reading the official reply, he looked up -genially at his interlocutor and said: - -“We don’t want to interfere with that wreck: it’s full of gin!” - -An angry fanatic hearing the word “gin” rose at once and put the -supplementary question: “May I ask whether that gin was destined for -the unfortunate natives of the Lagos Hinterland?” - -“Yes,” said the Warden of the Court of Dowry politely, “Yes sir, you -may: but they will never get it. However, several thousand tons of gin -I am glad to say have gone out to the negroes of our colonies since -the ship was lost, to the no small advantage,” he added, “of my friend -Mr. Garey; whom, by the way,” he continued with conversational ease, -“we all hope to see in this House shortly, for old Southwick who’s up -against him hasn’t got a dog’s chance, and you probably know that we -are forcing Pipps to resign. Bound to be an election!” - -He sat down. It was a quarter to four and the House was saved. But -though the decorum of that great assembly prevented one word from -being uttered as to what had passed, the Lobbies were full of it, and -when the first division was taken men who ordinarily filed past the -Treasury bench avoided it, while from distant and dark corners where -one cannot be observed, long and intent looks were darted at the happy -Warden of the Court of Dowry. - -He sat there gay and quite unconscious of the effect he had produced, -passed with his Party into the Lobbies for the division, greeting with -familiar joy men who appeared rather anxious to avoid his eye, and -making, I regret to say, such unseemly jests upon the Party system as -had never been heard within those walls before. - -The young Prime Minister, though suffering so considerably from the -left lung, was never at a loss where tact, and especially tact combined -with rapid action, was necessary. A horrified servant called him from -his room and described what was passing. He did not stop to ask why -or how the thing had happened. He came in rapidly through the door -behind the Speaker’s chair, and beckoned to Sir Charles Repton who was -at that moment occupied in drawing a large caricature of the Leader -of the Opposition, with his hands deep into the pocket of an amiable -farmer-like gentleman in top-boots and whiskers, who made a presentable -image of John Bull. - -Charles Repton got up at once and went out to his Chief. “What d’you -think of this?” he said, showing his picture. - -The young Prime Minister smiled as death would smile. “It’s very good, -it’s very good,” he said hurriedly. “Have it coloured ... colour it -yourself. Oh, do what you like with it.... Come with me. Come into my -room, do. No, I’ll tell you what, I want to speak to you. Let’s get out -into the air.” - -He walked his subordinate away rapidly arm in arm across Parliament -Square towards St. James’s Park, talking about a thousand things and -never giving Repton time for a word. Then he said suddenly: “What I -really want to say to you, Repton, is ...” He abruptly broke off. “Is -Lady Repton at home?” - -“Yes,” said Repton a little puzzled, “or she will be by this time. I -make her show me her plan for the afternoon at lunch, and she’s got to -suit me, or there’s a row.” - -“Well now,” said the Prime Minister, “will you do me a great favour?” -He put his hand on Repton’s shoulder and looked candidly into his eyes. - -“Certainly my dear fellow,” answered the Warden of the Court of Dowry -in the utmost good humour. “After all my position depends upon you, and -a good deal of my income depends upon my position. It isn’t likely I -should put your back up, even if I didn’t like you, which is far from -being the case, though I must say I don’t think you’re a man of very -exceptional talent. I think you owe most of your position to birth.” - -“Yes, yes,” said the Prime Minister hurriedly, “I understand. Now what -I want you to do is this: jump into the first thing you see and _go -straight home_. You will see why when you get there. It’s absolutely -urgent. Will you?” - -“Certainly,” said Repton more puzzled than ever. “All you politicians -are such liars that I make a point of believing the exact opposite -of what you say: but if you tell me it’s of any service to you, it -certainly does _me_ no harm.” And whistling gaily he walked off towards -a cab that was meandering across the Parade. - -When the Prime Minster had seen him well off he went as rapidly as -dignity would allow into Downing Street, took the telephone from his -secretary and in an agony of apprehension lest he should be too late, -at last heard Lady Repton’s voice. He told her that her husband was -the victim of a most distressing malady; she would understand it when -she saw him. He implored her to save so valuable a man for the country -by managing in some way or other to confine him to the house until he -should be medically examined. - -It was a great relief to the young fellow to have got this duty done. -His fifty-four years seemed to weigh less upon him: for the ten minutes -between leaving the House and seeing Repton off he had been on a grill: -there was still ridicule to be faced, but he had a sentiment of having -achieved his end and of having just saved as difficult a situation as -ever the chief of a State had had to meet. - - * * * * * - -It was an anxious moment, but many moments are necessarily anxious -in the life of a man who holds in his hands the destinies of Great -Britain, and the young and popular Prime Minister had the stuff in -him to stand worse scenes than that, but he was exhausted and he was -slightly troubled. The full consequences of the dreadful affair had not -yet shaped themselves in his mind. - -He walked back to his room in the House of Commons, ruminating during -those few steps upon the developments that might arise from Repton’s -terrible accident, and beginning to plan how he should arrange matters -with Demaine. It would want caution, for Demaine was slow to understand -... but then there was a corresponding advantage to that, for like all -slow men, Dimmy could hold his tongue.... In fact he couldn’t help it. - -The Prime Minister was pleased to think that he had that second -string to his bow, and that opinion had been sufficiently prepared -for the change. Repton would be certified of course, the sooner the -better,--that would prevent any necessity for a peerage. Demaine’s -taking the place would seem more natural, and those gadflies, the -_Moon_ and the _Capon_, would not fall into a fever about the -appointment.... Perhaps after all the Repton business would be an -advantage in the long run! - -The more he thought of his choice of Demaine the more pleased he was, -and he had almost persuaded himself that the appointment was due to -some extreme cunning upon his own part, when, coming round from his -room into the Lobbies, he casually asked a colleague where Demaine was -at the moment. - -The colleague didn’t know. “I have my back turned to the benches behind -us you know,” he explained elaborately. - -The Prime Minister cast upon him a look of contempt, and asked the -doorkeeper whether he had seen Mr. Demaine. - -“G. M. Demaine,” said the doorkeeper solemnly, running his finger down -a list. - -The Prime Minister was almost moved to reprove him, but dignity forbade. - -“Not in the House!” said the man curtly, addressing as an equal the -chief power in England; for his post was secure, the Prime Minister’s -precarious. - -“You mean not on the benches: I can see that for myself!” said the -Prime Minister sharply. - -“I mean he hasn’t passed this door, sir,” said the official with quiet -dignity, and Dolly went off considerably nettled, and looked into the -tea-room and the libraries, and even wasted a little time in going -round by the smoking-room. The policemen in the central hall had -not seen Demaine, nay, a constituent with an exceedingly long black -moustache and fierce eyes had been waiting by appointment with Demaine -for two hours, and Demaine had not been found. The Prime Minister -condescended so much as to speak to this man, and the man, not knowing -whom he might be addressing, told him plainly that “if Mr. Demaine -interpreted his duties in this fashion, he couldn’t answer for his -seat, that was all!” - -The Prime Minister further condescended to go out of the House in the -ordinary way, and the policeman who guarded the ordinary portal had not -seen Mr. Demaine. - -It was really very awkward and exasperating, though it was only a -detail. He must see Demaine that afternoon: it was imperative. But -it was also important that he should see him as soon as possible. He -wanted to keep him out of the way till he was coached. - -There is nothing in this happy English life of ours more soothing to -the brain in moments of anxiety, than the perusal of any one of those -great Organs of Opinion which are the characteristic of our people and -the envy of Europe, and of these it must be admitted none stand on -quite the same intellectual and moral plane as the best two or three -of our London evening papers. One of these the Prime Minister had -always found particularly soothing. He bought it of the newsman at the -corner of Parliament Square and opened it as he walked along at leisure -towards Downing Street. - -There was one corner of this sheet which was always a recreation to -Dolly in the few moments he could spare from the House: it was the -corner in which prizes were offered for the best pun, on condition of -course that nothing coarse or personally offensive should be sent in -by the competitors. To this he had turned an indifferent eye, when for -the second time that day he received a shock which was almost like a -blow in the face.... - -There, in great letters, with a flamboyance surely unworthy of a paper -that professed to support his own Party, was the headline: - - “DISAPPEARANCE OF A MINISTER ELECT.” - -And his forebodings did not deceive him.... It was ... it was ... the -permanently unlucky Demaine! - -He cursed the crass imbecility by which such a thing could have got -into the papers at all. He strode to his house and to his room, -crumpled the paper which he was still holding, unfolded it, and then -read the news again. There were but a few lines of it: Demaine had -disappeared, and the full detective power of London was attempting to -solve the mystery of his disappearance. - -What madness to let such things get out! - -Why, twenty things might have happened! He might simply have stopped in -the house of a friend and not bothered to tell his wife that he was not -coming home; he might simply have fallen ill and have been taken to a -hospital or to a hotel. What a piece of idiocy to put it into the Press -at all! - -Much as he hated the exercise, he rang to be put through to Demaine -House, and heard from Sudie herself, whom he knew but distantly, that -her fears had done all. - -She had sat up for George till nearly five o’clock in the morning; -underrating perhaps her husband’s talents, and notably his ability to -find his way home, she thought it possible he had fallen a victim to -an unscrupulous taxi driver or that any one of a thousand other fates -might have befallen him. - -With too little comprehension of the social forces that build up -the society of the Mother Land, Sudie had communicated at once with -Scotland Yard, and on learning that her husband had last been seen -leaving the House of Commons and walking towards the river, she had -taken the unpardonable step of sending messages to all the evening -papers in the hope that such publicity would advance the solution of -the mystery. - -It was perfectly damnable! As though the cares of his office were not -enough, the Prime Minister found himself upon this Tuesday afternoon -with a doubtful and anxious division awaiting him in the evening, with -one of his Ministers gone mad, and his successor the subject at the -best of a vulgar mystery, and at the worst of a hopeless disappearance. - - - - -CHAPTER X - - -The phrase “intoxicated with pleasure,” too common in our literature, -would most inexactly describe the condition of George Mulross Demaine -as he left the Prime Minister’s room upon that Monday midnight. - -In the first place he was not and never had been intoxicated, and even -when he exceeded (as in youth he frequently had) in the matter of wine, -spirits, liqueurs and fancy liquids, the effect of such excess had -rather been atrophy than intoxication. Nor had he ever felt what poets -finely call the “sting of joy.” - -But he was pleased: he was very pleased. Thoughts that in another more -volatile and less substantial brain might have crowded, appeared slowly -separated one from another and in a solemn procession. They comforted -rather than exhilarated him. - -First of all there was the £5000 a year: that was something. - -He ruminated on that about as far as Cleopatra’s Needle; there, as he -leant upon the parapet of the Embankment and looked down into the -water, a second thought rose upon the horizon of his mind: the £5000 a -year would be his, not Sudie’s. - -In the first stage of this nightly ramble he had barged into two men: -one a poor man who had made the accident the excuse for the delivery -of money; the second a rich one who cursed him abominably, but George -was in too equable a mood to mind. Now, as he left Cleopatra’s Needle -behind him and strolled still farther eastward, ruminating upon the -fact that the £5000 a year would be his and not Sudie’s, he had the -misfortune to cannon against yet a third, to whom he apologised: but it -was a post, not a man. - -He looked at it with those slow, sensible eyes of his for perhaps -thirty seconds, and saw in large red letters under the electric light -“Motors to the right of this post.” - -He repeated the phrase mechanically as was often his wont upon reading -anything, and it set up a new train of thought. Post.... The post -offered him was not permanent ... but he considered the careers of his -friends and he could remember none, neither Ted nor Johnny nor old -Bill Curliss, nor Fittleworth nor Glegg, who from the moment they had -received such promotion had not gone forward. - -It always meant something, even when one was out of office, and then -who knows? One might be in office again. A Party may be in office -twice running! Stranger things had happened. And then, even if they -went out of office, Ole Man Benson would have brought something off by -that time. - -Look at it how he would, heaven was smiling on him, and he in return, -and as though in gratitude, smiled at the gaunt front of Blackfriars -Station, opposite which he had now arrived. - -Between him and it there lay the street, and he was naturally too -cautious to attempt to cross until he had gazed carefully to the front -and right. But at midnight there is no pressure of traffic in the City -of London, and when he had allowed a belated dray and a steam roller -to pass him at their leisure he hurriedly crossed over with a vague -intention of taking the train. - -Like many men of the governing classes, whose mental activities are -naturally divorced from the petty details of London life, and who are -independent of that daily round which makes the less fortunate only -too familiar with our means of communication, George Mulross Demaine -was not quite certain where the Underground went to, nor what part -of London precisely it served. But he had been taught from childhood -that it was circular in form, and that round it like Old Ocean[3] in a -perpetual race, went along streams of trains. Enter it where you would, -and you might leave it somewhere upon its periphery. - -He knew that St. James’s Park Station was at his very door. He asked -for and obtained a ticket with that promptitude which distinguishes the -service of our premier Metropolitan line, left the change for sixpence -by an oversight on the ledge of the ticket window, and then, as Fate -would have it, turned to the left-hand stairs. - -The official whose duty it was to examine and to cut designs upon the -tickets presented to him by the public, was that evening (under the -guidance of Fate) most negligent. - -He should surely have seen that he was dealing with an Obvious -Gentleman and should gently have directed him to the opposing platform. -As it was he did no more than half puncture the cardboard without so -much as glancing at it, and George Mulross Demaine (in whom now yet -another pleasing thought had arisen--that there were such things as -Cabinet pensions--) sauntered down on to the platform. - -A train roared in; he stumbled into it just in time to save his coat -from the shutting of the gate, and sat contentedly until he should hear -the conductor shout “St. James’s Park!” But this cue word which would -have aroused him to action, he was destined not to hear. - -The Mansion House went by, and Cannon Street, but yet another pleasing -thought having arisen in his mind he noted them not. - -A shout of “Monument” startled him, for he had heard in a general way -of the Monument, and it was nowhere near his home. When he came to Mark -Lane he was seriously alarmed, and at the cry of Aldgate East, his mind -was made up. He got out. - -He asked with the utmost courtesy of the man who took the tickets what -he should do to get to St. James’s Park, and the man who took the -tickets replied with less courtesy but with great rapidity that he had -better turn sharp to the right and that on his right again he would -find Aldgate Station, whence there was still a service of trains, late -as was the hour. - -Alas, for the various locutions of various ranks in our society! he did -turn sharp to the right; he went right round the corner into Middlesex -Street, and to the right again into Wentworth Street, but not a station -could be seen. The summer night was of a glimmering sort of darkness. -It was hot, and many of the local families were still seated upon their -steps, speaking to each other in a dialect of the Lithuanian Ghetto -which George Mulross erroneously took for an accent native to the -London poor. - -He stepped up to one and asked whether he were yet near the station. -The voluble reply “Shriska beth haumelshee! Chragso! Yeh!” illumined -him not at all, and as he moved off uncertainly up the street, a roar -of harsh laughter tended to upset his nerves. - -He could not bear this raking fire: he turned, most imprudently, up -a narrow court which was in total darkness; and, then at first to his -surprise but almost immediately afterwards to his grave chagrin, he -felt a voluminous and exceedingly foul cotton sheet drawn sharply round -his throat, twisted, the slack of it thrown over his head, and one end -crammed into his mouth for a gag; almost at the same moment his wrists -were jerked behind him, a rope whose hardness must have been due to -tar was hitched round them with surely excessive violence, putting him -to grievous pain, his feet were lifted from under him, he felt several -hands grasping his head and shoulders at random, a couple of them -seizing his ankles; he was reversed, and in the attitude described at -the Home Office as “The Frogs’ March” he felt himself carried for some -few yards, and at last reversed again and placed face upwards upon a -narrow and hard surface. - -Through the filthy cotton which still enveloped his face, the -disgusting stains of which were dimly apparent to him, he saw the -glimmer of a light, and he heard round him language the accent and many -of the words of which were so unfamiliar to him that he could make -nothing of it. He was incommoded beyond words. - -Whatever his defects, George Mulross Demaine was not lacking in -physical courage; he begged them in a mumble through the gag that -covered his mouth, to let him go. There was no direct reply, but only -a good deal of whispering, which so far as he could make it out--and -much of it was foreign--related to his person rather than to his -request. - -An attempt to move betrayed the fact that some heavy body was seated -upon his shins; another attempt to raise the upper half of his body was -met by so sharp a reminder upon the side of his head that he thought it -better for the moment to lie still. - -What followed was an examination of his clothes and their contents, -which showed his new neighbours to be unacquainted with the sartorial -habits of the wealthy. The two slits in his cape were taken for pockets -and their emptiness provoked among other comments the shrill curse of -a woman. His trouser pockets, wherein it was fondly hoped that metal -might lie hid, and wherein he would rather have died than have put -anything, similarly drew blank, and to their disgust, of the two little -lines on the waistcoat one was a sham and the other contained nothing -but a spare stud. However, this contained a small precious stone, and -was the immediate object of a pretty severe scuffle. - -He was next reversed yet a third time without dignity, and in a manner -the violence of which was most wounding: but in his tail pocket was -nothing but a large new silk handkerchief which went (apparently by -custom, for there was no discussion) to the captain of the tribe. - -Purse there was none, a thing that bewildered them; not even a -portmonnaie, until, to their mingled astonishment and joy, some one -acuter than the rest discovered in a mass of seals at his watch chain, -a little globular receptacle which opened with a spring, and revealed -no less than four sovereigns. - -It was a poor haul, but the clothes remained. Not for long. They were -all removed, and that not with roughness but, he was glad to note, -tenderly: less perhaps from the respect they bore him than from a -consideration of the value of the cloth. The precise manoeuvre -whereby the difficulty of the ankles and the wrists was eliminated, -I leave to those of my readers who are better acquainted with such -problems than I. There are several well-known methods, I understand, -whereby a man may have his trousers and his coat removed and yet his -hands and feet preserved in custody. - -His boots (they were astonished to note) were elastic-sided. They were -under the impression that among the wealthy buttoned boots alone were -tolerated at the evening meal and thenceforward until such hours as the -wealthy seek repose. But they were good mess boots, and take it all in -all, his clothing, every single article of which was soon folded and -put into its bundle, made the best part of their booty. - -Then there was a considerable movement of feet, a murmur of voices -purposely low; there seemed to be one person left, agile and rapid in -movement ... perhaps two: at any rate after these or this one had held -him for some thirty seconds, during which he had the sense and prudence -to lie still, there was a sharp sliding of feet, the quick but almost -noiseless shutting of a door, and he found that he was free. - -His first act was to disembarrass himself of his stinking head-gear, -but his captors had laid their trap with science, and it was precisely -this which was destined to give them the leisure for their escape. The -sheet was tied to his head by a series of small hard knots which took -him, between them, quite a quarter of an hour to undo. - -At last he was free. He tore the filthy thing from his head and the -bunch of it from his mouth with the same gesture, overcame a strong -desire to vomit, and looked round him. - -He found himself seated upon a sort of narrow bench attached by iron -clamps to the wall of a small and exceedingly noisome room, which even -at that moment he had the wit to think that he would certainly have -dealt with by the local inspector when he should have assumed what he -had heard called the reins of office. - -But for the moment other considerations occupied him to the exclusion -of the condition of the room. A dirty paraffin lamp with no shade stood -on the rickety table; the one window was blinded by a large old wooden -shutter barred down against it; on the cracked, distempered walls, -stained with a generation of grease and smoke, hung a paper upon which -a few figures had been scrawled roughly in pencil, and most of them -scratched out again, and here and there the same pencil or others had -inscribed the surface of the plaster with sentiments and illustrations -most uncongenial to his breeding. - -The next thing that met his eye was a peculiarly repulsive pair of -breeches, an old green-black torn overcoat, and a pair of workmen’s -boots, cracked, grey with weather, laceless and apparently as stiff as -wood. He had no choice: his first business was to find aid. He must put -these on, break his way out of this den as best he could, and summon -the Police. - -He had never had his feet in such things as those boots before; it was -like shuffling in boxes. He hated to feel the clammy grease of the -trousers and coat against his skin. - -He left the lamp burning and made for the door. To his astonishment -the latch was open. To his further astonishment it gave into an open -passage like a tunnel, with no door but a plain arch opening into the -court beyond. He shuffled out. He was glad that it was not yet day. -Fortunately it was not cold. - -He turned, he knew not whither, following the streets aimlessly, but -more or less in one direction, until he saw in a blotted silhouette -against the darkness of the walls, the glad and familiar form of a -policeman. It was like coming home! It was like making a known harbour -light after three days of lost reckonings and a gale. - -He went up to the man and began in that pleasant but not condescending -tone in which he had ever addressed members of the force: - -“Policeman, can you tell me....” - -He got no further. The agile though weighty custodian of order, with -the low and determined remark, “I know yer!” had seized him by the -shoulders, whirled him round and away, so that he fell, bruised and a -little dazed, against the steps of a house. - -George was angered. He had already risen with some remark on his -lips about taking a number when he saw his antagonist make a sharp -gesture--there was a shrill whistle, immediately afterwards an -answering whistle from perhaps a hundred yards away, and George Mulross -Demaine,--blame him if you will,--kicked off the impossible boots, and -ran for it. - -They let him run, and it is not for us to criticise. He left their -district at any rate. - -He had run for but a few moments in his absurd and horrible greatcoat -and on his naked feet, until he saw down the end of an alley a great -gate, a light to one side of it, and beyond it an empty space of -glimmering nightly sky. Ignorant of where he was or what he did, but -determined upon safety, he looked round and to his horror saw the form -of yet another policeman pacing slowly towards the place where he was -crouching. - -That determined him. With an agility that none of his acquaintances, -not even his wife, would have believed to be in him, he slunk quite -close to earth in the shadow of the great gate and entered the open -space beyond. - -Such a space he had never seen. Under the very faint light which was -now beginning to show over the east of heaven, he guessed that he was -upon the river, for he saw masts against the sky and that peculiar pale -glint of water which, even at night, may be distinguished between the -hulls of ships. All he sought was shadow, and the great wharves of the -docks--for he had blundered into the docks--give ample opportunity. - -He heard a measured step pacing slowly towards him. He crept along the -edge of the quay into a sort of narrow lane that lay between a row of -high barrels and the bulwarks of a big steamship which just showed -above the stone. He flattened himself against the high barrels which, -had he been better acquainted with the details of commerce, he would -have known to contain fishbone manure. - -The measured tread came nearer; it passed, it reached a certain point -in the distance, it turned and passed again. It reached yet another -extreme of its beat, turned and re-passed.... And all the while the -light was growing: and as it grew the nervous agony of George Mulross -grew with it, but more rapidly. - -He could now just see the figure of the watchman near the gate, he -could distinguish part of the nearer rigging; in half an hour he would -be visible to whatever eyes were watching for vagabonds. He knew what -that meant; further humiliation, perhaps further dangers. There was not -a gentleman for miles,--and with that thought the heart of this most -unfortunate of gentlemen beat slow. - -The reader has been sufficiently told that Mr. Demaine, however solid -the quality of his brain, was not a man of rapid decision. But agony -and peril are sharp spurs, and as the conception of a gentleman floated -through his mind he suddenly remembered that ships had captains. - -Upon their exact functions he was hazy; he would know it better no -doubt when he had undertaken his functions in the Court of Dowry (the -blessed thought warmed him for a moment even in that dreadful dawn!); -anyhow, the word “captain” meant something ... it wasn’t like a captain -in the army of course ... but then there were captains and captains -... of course the Royal Navy was superior to the Merchant Service ... -but it was all the same kind of thing--only upper and lower, like -a barrister and a solicitor.... For instance there was the Naval -Reserve.... And he remembered a captain upon an Atlantic liner who was -a splendid great fellow, and he was sure could tell any one at once. -And the captain of Billy’s schooner was better than that because he -understood about motor engines. - -He had just come to the point of remembering that on the P. and O. -it was rather a grand thing to dine with the captain, when his mind -arrived at its conclusion. He would slip over the side of the big ship, -and when the proper time came he would reveal himself to the captain -for what he was. The captain would show him every courtesy, he would -give him a change of clothes, ready-made but decent, he would know -where there was a telephone, he would have authority to speak to the -watchman and the rest, he would send for a taxi, and George’s troubles -would be over.... - -George prepared to slip over the side. - -Now to slip over the side in a book is one thing, but to do it on a -real ship is another. The bulwarks were high and greasy and salt and -slimy. Demaine was weakened by a night of terrors, and he came down -on the hard iron deck of the tramp with a noise resembling distant -thunder, and in a manner that hurt him very much indeed. - -It was a new misadventure and one that had to be repaired. He heard -voices and bolted for a large coil of rope which lay beneath the shadow -of the turtle-deck. Here the stench, though somewhat different in -quality from that of the fishbone manure, was not less noisome, and -carried with it a reminiscence of Channel passages which weakened the -very soul within George Mulross Demaine. But the sensation was soon -swamped in one much more poignant; this was aroused in him by the -approach of two inharmonious voices, one of which was borne towards him -perpetually clamouring: - -“Yes ah deed!” - -While the other repeated as a sort of antiphon: - -“Noa ee diddun, tha silly fule!” - -When this dialogue was exhausted the first voice in a lower and much -more determined tone hissed: “Ah’ll ave im aowt!” and a large stave -which might, for all Demaine knew, be a marlingspike or some other -horrid instrument, began rummaging behind the coil of rope. - -“T’ould man sez ef ah doan catch next ’un ee’ll skin me live!” - -To this the second voice reiterated his certitude that his companion -was a silly fool, and that he had had stowaways upon the brain since he -was last made responsible for the presence of one of these supercargoes -upon the _Lily_. - -The voices moved away and Demaine, while he breathed somewhat more -freely, was back again in his former doubt and terror. - -It grew to be broad day; he heard the rattling of chains; the presence -of men upon every hand made him but the more determined to remain -in his hiding-place until he could approach the Captain in some -more convenient manner than through the medium of the unfeeling and -ill-educated North Countrymen who seemed to compose the crew. - -He felt the great ship swinging, he could see the patch of cloud in -the sky of which he had a glimpse, turning as she turned, he felt the -slight throb of her engines; she was passing down the dock, she was out -of the gate--she was almost in the river, when, to his horror ... the -coil of rope which had been his bulwark against an unfeeling world, -_began slowly to uncoil at the top_, with the motion of some great and -wicked snake that was making for its harmless prey. - -Had George Mulross attained that acquaintance with seafaring terms -which is proper to an administrator of this sea-girt isle (and -especially to a Warden of the Court of Dowry), he would have known that -the rapidly disappearing coil before him was being used as a warping -rope, and he would have connected the steady clank of the donkey engine -which accompanied its disappearance with the absorption of fathom after -fathom of what had been kindly shelter. But even had he known these -things it is doubtful whether they would have interested him at the -moment. - -He crouched lower and lower as the coil diminished, occupying the -smallest space compatible with keeping his legs tucked away behind -what was left of the cable: but the Gods were deaf that morning to all -prayers. The last eighteen inches of the coil’s height were reached and -still the pitiless donkey engine clanked, and still the lengths went -slithering away, until at last his back appeared above the element it -lived in,--the unmistakable back of a human being, clothed in a ragged -green-black coat. - -To the trained and piercing eye of sailor-men the object was -unmistakable, and like two cats upon one mouse his acquaintances of -an hour before pounced upon his trembling form: the sceptical one now -converted and protesting that he had been convinced from the first of -the stowaway’s presence, the other in cruel triumph dragging him along -the deck and threatening him with such consequences as not even the -peculiar idiom of the North Country could completely veil. - -With such energy as remained to him, George sprang up at the first -opportunity they gave him. He had the sense not to run upon those -crowded and confined decks. The button torn off his coat-collar in the -scramble showed his bare neck and chest. Masses of grime, tar and dust -streaked his face; his hair was most untidy, and his bootless feet were -caked in mud. - -“I want to see the captain,” he said between his gasps. - -“Tha wants...!” began his irate captor,--then plain words failed him, -and he took refuge in a few oaths. The other said more quietly: - -“Tha’lt see im, ladd; ow! tha’lt see im,”--and he nodded twice gravely -in a manner which George would have found reassuring had he not already -begun to suspect that the lower classes were capable of sarcasm. - -“Tha’lt see im!” he suddenly repeated with the utmost ferocity; and -catching Demaine sharply by the back of the neck he ran him in to the -semi-darkness under the bridge where, as luck would have it, the first -officer in a somewhat surly mood was going down off duty. - -I should over-weight these pages were I so much as to attempt the -language of the first officer when he cast eyes upon the unfortunate -figure before him. A stowaway! It was the second time it had happened -in three months. - -One stammering attempt to make himself heard so dreadfully increased -the power of this man’s passion that George perforce was silent. The -first officer’s rage rose into a sort of typhoon, and had the law or -even the custom of the sea permitted him to do one quarter of that with -which he threatened the poor vagabond, a British ship would certainly -be no fit place to live in. As a matter of fact when his tirade was -over he confined himself to a general curse upon the town of London and -its inhabitants, to a particular one directed with menace against the -able seaman who had captured the stowaway, and at last, with directions -that he should be shown to the captain when the ship was in the fairway -and the anxious business of getting her out was over. - -For some little time, therefore, Demaine still stood a butt for the -occasional but half-exhausted ribaldry of his two guardians, and not -until the waterman’s boat had dropped away from alongside and the -warping rope had splashed into the slime of the Thames, not until the -donkey engine had clanked once more and got it aboard, horrible with -all the horrors of that water, and not until the engine was going -fairly and the _Lily_ dropping swiftly down the tide, was the captain -ready to sit in judgment. - -Captain Higgins was a man who had made method and self-control the -hinges of success in life. _His_ Caryll’s Ganglia were all right! - -Accuracy in accounts, faithfulness to employers, and strict discipline -aboard, were, as he was proud of repeating, his motto. And when he -heard that yet another stowaway had claimed the hospitality of the -_Lily_, he betrayed no unusual perturbation but sat down at his little -desk, and ordered the prisoner to be brought in. - -George, somewhat hurriedly introduced by both arms between his now -silent captors, perceived sitting at that table a sight very different -from that which he had expected. He saw a very small, thin man with a -little pointed red beard and the eyes of a weasel, wearing a well-used -and somewhat dirty peaked cap, upon the front of which was embroidered -a coat of arms long indistinguishable, and surrounded by a scroll of -tawdry and threadbare gold braid. - -This was the individual upon whom Demaine’s hopes of speedy restoration -depended. He was determined not to speak first, though he was certain -that the superior education of the officer would pierce through his -involuntary disguise. - -Captain Higgins pulled out a large, official-looking paper divided into -certain mysterious compartments, each headed with a printed rubric, and -said briefly, without looking up and with his pen ready to write: - -“Name?” - -“Demaine,” said George, with all the dignity he could summon.... -“But----” - -“Silence!” commanded Captain Higgins sharply, still without looking up -from the paper on which he scratched rapidly and in an official manner: -“Mane.” “First name,” he chanted musingly, his pen suspended to write -further. - -“George Mulross,” enunciated that individual, and “George Ross” went -down onto the sheet. - -He began once more by clearing his throat, but though he had not yet -said a word, Captain Higgins looked up with such an expression in his -small and unpleasing eyes as would brook no nonsense. - -“George Ross Mane,” said he, speaking through his nose. “You have been -discovered on my ship, the _Lily_, one thousand three hundred and -twenty tons burthen, London rating, bound from London to Portland with -agricultural and general cargo.” - -Captain Higgins loved these formalities. - -“I have no jew-risdiction in the matter....” And here -he began speaking by rote out of a dirty little book -in which were laid down the elements of his trade: -“Of-breach-of-contract-tort-replevin-stave-jury-or-execution-major-and- -minor-nor-authority-to-act-savin’-always-and-exceptin’-in-such-way-as- -and-whereby-discipline-accoutrement-good -order-_and_-the-fear-of-the-Lord-proper-to-the-navigatin’-of-this-ship- -from-her-departure-to-her-port-of-destination-is-concerned-_wherefore_- -you-shall-be-fed-in-such-manner-as-shall-keep-you-livin’-until-the-next- -port-or-ports-whereat-this-good-ship-may-touch-and-there-delivered-to- -the-Sheriff-or-his-officers-or-other-justices-of-our-Sovereign-Lord-the- -King-and-of-his-peace: Take-away-the-prisoner! Gawd-save-the-King.” - -This sentence, which was delivered in one breath and with the rapidity -of an expert, became towards its close a torrent of syllables ending up -sharp upon the word “King” as upon a bell, and followed by a stinging -silence. - -“I demand,” shouted George in an uncontrolled voice over his shoulder -as they dragged him away. - -“Put him in irons!” cried Captain Higgins as loudly as was consistent -with order, discipline and self-control. “Put the ---- in irons!” -And after this natural exhibition of feeling (which in his heart he -regretted) the navigator returned to the bridge, relieved the second -officer there present, and continued to take his ship down the fairway. - - * * * * * - -In a little cubical space with iron sheeting above, below and all -round, and a dirty porthole still streaked with the salt of the sea, -the prospective Warden of the Court of Dowry sat upon the floor in a -despondent mood. - -There was already a slight swell upon the vessel; his dungeon was -far forward and he felt it to the full. They had brought him some -detestable mess or other in a battered pannikin at noon. He had sent it -away untasted. Whither they were taking him, what would be his fate, -had formed for too many hours the subject of his speculations. - -The movement of the ship was beginning to drive even these gloomy -considerations from his mind. He had already discovered two things: -first that the term “irons” was a purely conventional one; and -signified no more than that his harsh treatment might be made -indefinitely severe. Secondly, that he was permitted to communicate -with an extraordinarily lop-sided boy of some fifteen years who acted -as general drudge in the ship and was deputed to bring him his food -from the galley. He was about to discover a third feature in his new -life. - -A person evidently containing mixed the blood of the Caucasian and of -the Negroid races approached him in his confinement and ordered him in -broken English to follow up on deck. - -The sea air revived him somewhat, but George was far from well when the -half-breed, kicking towards him a lump of something which reminded poor -Demaine of a diseased brick, a bucket of dirty water and a large and -peculiarly evil mop, bade him scrub. - -But George’s first attempts at this new trade were such that his -overseer after looking at him first in astonishment and then in anger, -assured him that any lack of good-will would necessarily be followed by -some form of physical compulsion, the which, so far as his victim could -gather from the torrent of broken English, would probably consist in a -larruping with the rope’s end. - -Doggedly and despairingly the poor fellow scrubbed away. He scrubbed -perhaps too hard; at any rate he produced a patch of surpassing -brilliance though of exiguous dimensions; and as the result of his -efforts turned faint and ill with something worse than sea-sickness. -He rose from his knees and tottered to his legs, and began aimlessly -swabbing the odd patch of cleanliness with which he had diversified the -beastly decks of the _Lily_. - -But the friend and brother (if I may so term the Eurafrican) could bear -no more, and seizing the unstable landsman by the arm he thrust him, -stumbling, down the stairway, and locked him again into his cell. - -The exhaustion of nature had caused the unfortunate politician to fall -into a troubled doze, when he was aroused by a gentle kick, and saw -before him the boy, the battered pannikin, a piece of bread which had -unfortunately dropped upon the deck aft of the funnel on its way, and, -within the tin, a peculiarly loathsome liquid compound upon which, like -the magic island of Delos, floated at large a considerable glob of fat. - -“I don’t want it,” said George feebly, “take it away.” - -To his surprise--if surprise is not too strong a word for the faint -emotions that still stirred him, the boy began, as the conventional -term goes, to look ugly. - -“Na yer dahn’t!” he said, “yer dahn’t gemme inter trouble, yer brute! -Yer gort them two Newcastle men inter trouble, and the myte seyes yer -nearly gort im. And yer gort Blacky inter trouble; yer dahn’t ger _me_! -Yer gottereatit!” - -“I can’t!” again said George feebly. - -“Yer gottereatit!” repeated the boy, with that dogged assumption of -authority which so ill fits the young. “By Gawd, if yer get cookie -inter trouble, I’ll ave the next watch dahn an’ they’ll skin yer.” - -“Throw it away,” said George, “there’s a good boy. Throw it -overboard. I’ll make it all right in the long run,” he added, nodding -encouragingly. - -The boy looked doubtful. “I dursent,” he said sullenly. “Sides which, -ow’ll yer myke it all roight?” - -“Never you mind,” whispered George mysteriously. “You leave me the -bread--I might try that ... the clean part,” he added after a sudden -wave of nausea--“but chuck the rest, there’s a good lad. I can’t bear -it.” His whisper almost rose to a little scream.... “I can’t bear to -look at it.” - -The boy still continued to eye him doubtfully and contemptuously. - -“Yer cawn’t myke it all roight!” he said, but he bethought him that if -the wretched prisoner could not eat he should catch it from the cook -just the same, and that his own interest lay in the disposal of the -garbage. He drank a good swill of it himself--he was not over-fed on -the _Lily_,--went up on deck for a moment,--and George could hear the -splash as the horror went overboard. - -In a moment the boy had returned. - -“Yer ought ter be griteful,” he said, “I’ve sived yer a lickin.” - -“Thank you,” said George warmly, with his mouth full. He had found -himself able to munch the bread, and it did him good. - -The boy lingered; he took the same interest in the stowaway that he -might have taken in an animal at the Zoological Gardens, and the -episode broke the monotony of his fourth voyage. - -“Yer’ll ketch it at Parham!” he said in a cheery tone. - -George did not understand. “Why Parham?” he asked weakly. - -“Coz that’s where they’ll land yer. That’s where they’ll put yer -shore. They’ll ave the cops there roight on the quay wytin for yer, -and they’ll put yer ahverboard in the little dinghy, they wull: they -wahn’t thrah yer bundle arter ye, anforwhoy? acause yer arn’t got none. -But they’ll send one of th’ orficers and ee’ll and yer ahver ter th’ -cops, and ee’ll sye: ‘ee’s been very vilent’--that’s what ee’ll sye; -that’s what they said wiv the larst un; and they clapped th’ darbies on -_im_ ... saw em meself,” continued the boy most untruthfully. Then not -knowing his man and going a step too far, he continued: “Ee was ung, ee -was: ung in Lewes Gaol,” he ended, to give the story point and finish. - -The poor pedantry of maps does not weigh upon the governing classes of -this country, and Demaine might have had some difficulty in answering -in an examination exactly where Parham lay, but he knew that it was -on the south coast, he knew one reached it easily in an hour or two -from London, because he had gone to golf there. He knew that there was -a good motor track between the harbour and Highcliff, and altogether -Parham sounded to him like an echo from now forgotten, dearer, and long -dead days. He affected indifference. - -“Well,” he said, “it’s all the same to me.” - -“Ah,” said the boy, not ready to relinquish the delicious morsel, “sah -yer sye! Ut wahn’t be th’ syme tomorrermornin’.” - -“Do you mean,” said George, with--what might seem in such a man -impossible--a touch of cunning lent him by adversity, “Do you mean that -this old tub can make Parham in twenty-four hours?” - -“I dunno bout arhs,” said the boy surlily, “an’ she’s norr a tub -either” (for they have a curious loyalty to their temporary homes), -“but it’s a dy’s run. Any fool knahs that,” he added courteously. - -George dared not betray the hope that was rising in his heart. Luckily -for him the boy volunteered his next information. - -“We’re orf Long Nahse now,” he said, “but I dunno bout th’ toide -outsoide.” - -“No?” said George, merely desiring to prolong this all-important -conversation. - -“Nah: I dahn’t, I tell yer!” said the boy defiantly, “nor there’s norr -many does. I’ll lye yer dahn’t yerself.” - -At this stage of the conversation and just as an awkward pause -interrupted it, a new terror struck the boy. - -“Oh chise me!” he said, “look at yer tin!” - -“What’s the matter?” asked George as he peered into the empty tin. - -“It’s gorn empty,” whimpered the boy. - -“Well,” said George, his spirits already improved by the news of -Parham, “what of it?” - -“Whoy,” said the unhappy scullion, “Whoy, yer cuddenever empty that -tin--they’ll foind me aht!” he said, and began to sniffle. “Wort are -yer to empty it wiv, yer fool? Yer eyn’t got a spoon!” - -“Say I licked it,” said George with attempted humour. - -“They’d blieve ut of yer,” said the boy viciously, “ye’re nothin but a -woilbeast! Gettin us all inter trouble!” He sniffled. “Ye’re a curse -on th’ ship, that’s wort you are, an I blieve she’ll founder. I blieve -she’ll stroike in th’ noight and go to Ell. _You_’ll be drahwnded, -anyow!” he viciously added as he restrained his tears in prospect of -the wrath to come. - -But the thought of safety which the mention of Parham had brought -revived George, and he bore no ill-will. “Look here,” he said, “I’ll -swab it out with my bread and they’ll think I cleaned it up, but it’s -on condition that you chuck the bread overboard,” he added. - -The boy accepted the pact and was comforted. It was a cheap act of -kindness, but he hoped it might stand him in good stead a few hours -later. - - * * * * * - -The June night fell gradually upon the sea, the slight swell dropped to -something almost imperceptible. Through his miserable porthole George -could see great sheets of moonlight playing upon the easy surface, and -there was no noise but the regular thud of the engine. - -He fell into a profound sleep. - - - - -CHAPTER XI - - -As George Mulross Demaine drifted down river in his cell that Tuesday -afternoon the 2nd of June, Dolly sat blankly in Downing Street with the -waters of despair at his lips. - -Evil breeds evil. - -As he considered the gloomy prospect, new aspects of it rose before -him. Not only was he privately between these two fires, the sudden -madness of the outgoing Warden, the disappearance of his successor, -but the retirement of Charles Repton had been publicly announced and -Dimmy’s nomination had appeared alongside with it in the morning -papers. The double news was all over England. - -Yet another torturing thought suggested itself. How and when should he -fill the vacancy? What was he to do? - -Repton was impossible. His disaster was not in the papers, thank God, -and could not be, under the decent rules which govern our press. But -it was already the chief tittle-tattle of every house that counted -in London. There could be no interregnum with Repton still nominally -filling the place. He might wait as long as he dared, give it to a -third man, and then have Demaine turn up smiling and hungry: and if -that happened the Prime Minister would earn what he dreaded most on -earth, the enmity of those who had been his friends; perhaps a breach -with Mary Smith herself. - -He was not fit to do more than survey the misfortune of the moment: he -was still in his perplexity, when he heard the bell ringing in the next -room, and was told that he himself was personally and urgently wanted -upon the telephone. - -He put up his hand but the secretary would take no denial; it was -something absolutely personal. Who was it from? It was from Lady Repton. - -If it can be said of any wealthy and powerful man that he ever betrays -in his features or gait a purely mental anxiety, then that might be -said in some degree of the unfortunate Prime Minister at that moment. -He suffered so acutely that his left lung, the sense of which never -wholly left him, seemed to oppress him with actual physical pain. - -He took the telephone, dreading what he might hear. - -It was a trifle less of a blow than he had expected. All he heard was -the agitated voice of Lady Repton assuring him that she had waited as -long as possible before troubling him, but that she was now really -anxious, because Charles had not come home. Had he gone in a taxi or a -hansom, or how? It was more than half an hour since the Prime Minister -had telephoned her, and Charles was always _so_ regular. - -It was perhaps weariness or perhaps a sense that he could do nothing -which made the Prime Minister merely answer that he was sure to come in -a moment. - -“Repton has been very busy to-day,” he said, “and has had a great deal -on his mind. He has become a little unhinged: that is the whole truth, -Lady Repton: nothing more. But I think he should be carefully nursed. -Pray do not be anxious.” - -The words faltered a little, for he himself was more than anxious. -Heaven only knew what Repton might not be capable of, until they had -got him safe behind the four walls of his home.... And after that the -doctors. - -He stopped the conversation a little rudely, by taking advantage of a -long pause to ring off. While he was in the act of doing so a servant -asked him in the most natural manner in the world whether he would not -see Sir Charles Repton who was waiting below. - -I grieve to record that the young and popular Prime Minister gave vent -to the exclamation “Good God!” For a moment he thought of refusing to -see him; then he heard coming up through the distances of the official -house a cheery voice saying: - -“Yes, it’s all very well for you, you’re a butler with a regular place; -when the Government goes out you don’t. You’re a sort of permanent -official. But we...!” - -“Show him up,” said the Prime Minister in a qualm, “show him up at -once. _At once!_” he repeated, losing all dignity in his haste, and -tempted to push the solemn form of the domestic who stalked upon his -mission of doom as majestically as though he were about to announce a -foreign Ambassador, or to give notice. - -In a moment Charles Repton had entered. - -He had bought, during his brief odyssey, a gigantic Easter Lily in a -Bond Street shop which sells such ornaments. This blossom flourished in -the lapel of his coat and pervaded the whole room with its perfume. - -“My dear fellow,” he shouted, running up to the horrified Prime -Minister and taking him by both hands, “My dear fellow! Come, no pride; -you know as well as I do it’s all bunkum. Why, I could buy and sell you -any day of the week. It’s true,” he mused, “there’s birth of course, -but it’s a fair bargain. Birth gives you your place and brains give me -mine. Do you mind smoking?” - -“Yes,” said the Prime Minister, after which he said, “No,--I don’t know -... I don’t care. Why didn’t you go home?” - -“I didn’t go home,” said Sir Charles solemnly, and thinking what the -reason was ... “didn’t ... go ... home, because--Oh, I know, because I -wanted to talk to you about that peerage.” - -“For God’s sake don’t talk so loud,” said Dolly with real venom in his -voice. - -“All right then I won’t,” shouted Sir Charles, “though I really don’t -see what there is to be ashamed of. You’re going to give me a peerage -and I’m going to take one. You know as well as I do that you didn’t -think I’d take one and I wasn’t quite sure myself. Mind you, it’s -free,” he added coarsely, “gratis, _and_ for nothing.” - -“My dear fellow,” said the unhappy Premier,-- - -“Oh yes, I know, that’s the double-ruff dodge. You won’t ask for -anything, but old Pottle will. And then when I come to you and complain -you will say you know nothing about it. Of course I shan’t pay! It’ll -be no good asking me; but what I want is not to be _pestered_.” - -The Prime Minister almost forced him down into the chair from which he -had risen, and said again: - -“Do talk lower, Repton. Do remember for a moment where you are. No, -certainly you shan’t be bothered.” - -“What else was there?” continued Sir Charles genially, interrogating -the ceiling and twiddling his thumbs. “There was something, I know,” he -continued, looking sideways at the carpet. - -He got up, walking slowly towards the door, and still murmuring: -“There was something else, I know.” He touched his forehead with his -hand, stood still a moment as if attempting to remember, then shook -his head and said: “No, it’s no use. It was something to do with some -concession or other, but I’m not fit for business to-day.” - -“Repton,” said Dolly in a tone which he rarely used and had never found -ineffectual, “don’t say anything as you go out, don’t say anything to -anybody. Do get into a cab and go straight home. You promised me you -would.” - -“I’ll keep my promise,” said Sir Charles with fine candour, “I always -do. See if I don’t. Look here, to please you I’ll make him drive across -the Parade here under your windows. There!” - -And he was true to his word. He did indeed dig the servant in the -ribs as that functionary handed him his hat, his malacca cane and his -gloves, he also wished to see if the butler could wrestle, and he -winked a great wink at one of the footmen, but he said no word. He -jumped into the cab that was waiting for him, and told the driver to go -round by Delahaye Street onto the Parade. - -The Prime Minister was cautiously watching from a window to make sure -that the new incubus upon his life was on its way to incarceration, -when he found himself only too effectually assured: for he saw, leaning -out of a hansom which was going at a great pace towards the Mall, a -distant figure waving its hat wildly and calling in tones that could be -heard over the whole space of the Parade: - -“I’m keeping my word, Dolly, I’m keeping my word!” - -So went Sir Charles Repton homeward, and a settled darkness gathered -and fell upon the Premier’s heart. - - * * * * * - -Sir Charles did keep his word. - -He drove straight to his house, enlivening the way by occasional whoops -and shouting bits of secret information very valuable to investors, -to sundry acquaintances whom he recognised upon the way. At one point -(it was during a block at the top of St. James’s Street) he insisted -on getting out for a moment, seizing by the hand the dignified Lord -String who had advised the highest personages in matters of finance, -and telling him with a comical grin that if he had bought Meccas that -day on behalf of the Great he had been most imprudent, for there was -an Arab rising and the big viaduct was cut--the first misfortune that -hitherto prosperous line had suffered. - -Near the Marble Arch a change came over him. He felt a sudden and -violent pain behind the ears, and clapped his hands to the place. He -did more: when the spasm was over he put up the little door and told -the cabby; he made him a confidant; he told him the pain had been very -severe. - -The driver, who was not sympathetic, replied in an unsuitable manner, -and they were in the midst of a violent quarrel when two or three -minutes later the cabman, who was handicapped by having to conduct his -vehicle through heavy traffic, drove up to the house. - -Lady Repton was waiting near the door; she sent out no servant, she -came out to the cab herself, silenced the rising vocabulary of the -driver with a most unexpected piece of gold, and tripped up again into -the house. - -Sir Charles was philosophising aloud upon the gold band round his -umbrella, letting his domestics thoroughly understand the precise -advantages and disadvantages of such an ornament, when she took him by -the arm quite gently and began leading him upstairs. - - * * * * * - -Meanwhile in Downing Street an indispensable secretary of the name of -Edward was hearing what he had to do. - -Edward had been at King’s, for his father had sent him there. From the -Treasury which he adorned he had been assumed by the Prime Minister, -his father’s chief college friend, and given the position of private -secretary; admirably did he fill its functions. - -He was a silent Welshman, descended from a short line of small squires, -and he comprehended, in a manner not wholly natural to a man under -thirty, the frailties of the human heart. The instructions he received -from his chief, however, were of the simplest possible type, and called -for the moment upon none of his exceptional powers. - -There was to be no writing and no telephoning: he was to call upon -Bowker, because Bowker had the largest specialist experience of nervous -diseases in London, and therefore in the world. - -He was to come as from the Reptons, and to give an appointment at -Repton’s house, telling the doctor that he should there find Sir -Anthony Poole. He was to go at once to Sir Anthony Poole, whose general -reputation stood higher than any other medical man’s, to approach him -as from the Reptons, to give him a similar appointment and to inform -him that he would meet there Dr. Bowker. He was to tell them the whole -sad truth, and beg for a certificate. The unfortunate gentleman could -then be given the advantages of a complete rest cure. - -He was next to go to Lady Repton’s at once, and ask her leave to call -upon Dr. Bowker and Sir Anthony Poole. She would give it: the Prime -Minister had no doubt of that. He was to suggest to her the hour he -had already named to those eminent men. That very evening Sir Charles -would be certified a lunatic, and one load at least would be off the -Premier’s mind; and a load off his mind, remember, was a load off -his lung, and consequently an extension of lease granted to a life -invaluable to the State. - -Within three-quarters of an hour Edward Evans had done all these -things. He had even cut matters so fine that the physicians were to -call at seven, and Lady Repton would telephone the result--she dared -trust no other agency. - -So far as a man in acute anxiety can be satisfied, the young and -popular Prime Minister was satisfied, but his left lung was at least -one-half of his being as he went back again on his weary round to the -House of Commons, and the other half of his being was fixed upon a -contemplation of his fifty-fifth year. - - * * * * * - -At the door of Sir Charles Repton’s house was drawn up an exceedingly -neat brougham, and Dr. Bowker had entered. - -A few moments later there walked up to it the tall strong frame of -a man a trifle over-dressed but redeeming such extravagances by a -splendidly strong old face, and he was Sir Anthony Poole. - -Two things dominated the conceptions of Sir Anthony: the first the -antiquity of his family, which was considerable; the second a healthy -contempt for the vagaries of the modern physical science. - -He was himself as learned in his profession as any man would care to -be, but his common sense, he flattered himself, was far superior to -his learning,--and he flattered himself with justice. He was a devout -Christian of some Anglican persuasion; his family numbered thirteen -sons and one daughter. His income was enormous. I should add that a -knowledge of the world had taught him what real value lay behind men -like Sir Charles Repton, who had stood the strain of public life and -had found it possible to do such great service to their country. - -The mind of Dr. Bowker was dominated also by two considerations: the -first a permanent irritation against the survival of those social -forms which permitted men an advantage purely hereditary; the second -a conviction, or rather a certitude, drawn from clear thinking, that -organisation and method could deal with the cloudy blunders of mere -general knowledge as a machine can deal with dead matter, or as an army -can deal with civilians. - -Dr. Bowker’s birth was reputable and sound; his father had been a -doctor before him in a country town, and an earnest preacher in the -local chapel; his grandfather a sturdy miner, his great-grandfather a -turnkey in Nottingham Gaol. - -He was therefore of the middle rank of society; but after all, his -social gospel such as it was weighed upon him less than his scientific -creed. He did not _think_: he _knew_. What he did not know he did -not pretend to know. For the rest he was always a little nervous and -awkward in society, and preferred the communion of his books and an -occasional spin upon a bicycle to the conversation of the rich. - -I should add that he revered Sir Charles Repton not only as all men -of the world must revere a great statesman who has found it possible -for many years of the strain of public life to be of service to his -country, but also as a man of inestimable value in proving that the -solid Nonconformist stock could do in administration, when it chose to -enter that sphere, what it had so triumphantly shown it could do in -commerce. - -The two men were shown into an enormous room on the ground floor where -it was the custom of Sir Charles (in happier days!) to receive those -whom he feared or would inveigle. Lady Repton at once joined them. - -She was agitated; it was even distressing to watch her agitation. She -described to them the violent pain which her husband had suffered -twice, first the yesterday evening just before dinner, next at this -moment on driving up to his house in a cab. She described as best -she could the situation of these spasms of suffering, and she more -than hinted that she connected with them a novel and very astonishing -demeanour on her husband’s part which (here she almost broke down) -she hoped would justify them in ordering him if necessary with their -_fullest_ authority, to take a rest cure. She warned them that she had -told him nothing; she had always heard it was wise in such cases. He -thought they had come merely as advisers upon the pains he had felt -behind the ear, but a few words of his conversation would be enough to -convince them of that much graver matter. - -She left them for a moment together, and went to prepare her husband. -She was a woman of heroic endurance. Her father had been in his time -a God-fearing man, and had accumulated a small competence in the jute -line. - - * * * * * - -Dr. Bowker, let it be remembered, was a specialist in nervous diseases. -Sir Anthony Poole, let it also be remembered, was not, but he was -something infinitely better in his own estimation: he was a man who -had attended more distinguished people and with greater success than -any other physician in London. Dr. Bowker’s word as a specialist could -not be doubted. Sir Anthony Poole had only to express an opinion upon a -man’s health in any particular and that opinion became positive gospel -to all who heard it. - -The medical judgment of no two men given concurrently could carry -greater weight. By an accident not infrequent in all professions, these -two great men, though their rivalry was not strictly in the same field, -each undervalued the scientific aptitude of the other. Each would have -gone to the stake for the corporate value of that small ring to which -both belonged, but neither would admit the claim of the other to a -special if undefined precedence. - -On the rare occasions when they met, however, they observed all the -courtesies of life, and on this occasion in the large ground-floor room -of Sir Charles Repton’s house, they sat, when Lady Repton had gone out, -exchanging platitudes of a very attenuated, refined sort, in a tone -worthy of their correct grooming and distinguished appearance. By a -singular inadvertence they were summoned together. - -“Sir Anthony,” said Dr. Bowker, bowing, smiling and making a motion -with his hand towards the door. - -“Dr. Bowker,” said Sir Anthony, copying the courteous inclination, -and thus it was that Sir Anthony Poole had precedence, and first -interrogated Sir Charles Repton alone. - -The conversation was brief. When Sir Charles had answered the first -questions very simply, that he had two or three times in the last -twenty-four hours felt shooting pains behind the ear, he began to speak -in an animated way upon a number of things, and described a humorous -incident he had recently witnessed in the Strand with a vigour highly -suspicious to so experienced a physician as Sir Anthony Poole. - -Sir Anthony asked him what he ate and drank, received very commonplace -answers, and was twice assured by the Baronet, whose wife had used that -simple method to deceive him, that he had not for weeks felt any return -of his old complaint, and that he only regretted that Lady Repton -should have put Sir Anthony to the trouble of calling. He understood -also that Dr. Bowker had been sent for. - -“Yes,” said Sir Anthony a little uneasily. “I really imagined that the -matter would be rather worse than it seems to be. You know it is our -custom sometimes to call in another....” - -“Yes I know,” said Repton, with a slight smile, “it’s a pity you -called in old Bowker. I know he’s very good at nerves or aches or -something, but he’s such an intolerable old stick. The fact is, Sir -Anthony,” he said, fixing that eminent scientist with a keen look and -slightly lowering his voice, “the fact is, Dr. Bowker _isn’t quite a -gentleman_.” - -“You’re a little severe,” said Sir Anthony, smiling, “you’re a little -severe, Sir Charles!” - -“Mind you,” added Repton, “I don’t say anything against him in his -professional capacity.” - -“Certainly not,” said Sir Anthony. - -“But there are cases when a man’s manners do make a -difference,--especially in your profession.” - -Sir Anthony beamed. “Well, Sir Charles,” he said, “I’m very glad to -hear it’s no worse,”--and as Sir Anthony went out he muttered to -himself: “No more mad than I am; but he mustn’t go talking like that -about other people.” And the physician chuckled heartily. - -Dr. Bowker’s introduction to, and private stay with, the patient was -briefer even than had been Sir Anthony’s. He chose for his gambit the -remark: “Sir Anthony Poole has just seen you I believe, Sir Charles?” - -“Yes he has,” answered Charles Repton in a pleasant and genial tone, -“yes he has, Dr. Bowker, though why,” he added, with a happy laugh, “I -can’t conceive. After all, if I wanted a doctor for any reason I should -naturally send to a specialist.” - -When Sir Charles had answered the next few questions very simply, that -he had two or three times in the last twenty-four hours felt shooting -pains behind the ear, he then reverted to his praise of the specialist. - - -“If I had any nervous trouble, for instance, Dr. Bowker, I should send -for you. If I had trouble with my tibia, I should send for Felton.” - -Dr. Bowker nodded the most vigorous approval. It was evident that Sir -Charles Repton’s considerable if superficial learning was standing him -in good stead. - -“If I had trouble with my aural ducts I should send for Durand, or,” -he continued, in the tone of one who continues to illustrate a little -pompously, “if my greater lymphatics were giving me trouble, Pigge is -the first name that would suggest itself.” - -Dr. Bowker’s enthusiasm knew no bounds. “You are quite right, Sir -Charles,” he said, “you are quite right.” He almost took the Baronet’s -hand in the warmth of his agreement. “If more men--I will not say of -your distinction and position, but if more people--er--of what I may -call the--er--directing brain of the nation, were of your opinion, it -would be a good day for Medicine.” - -“Now a man like Poole,” went on Charles Repton nonchalantly, “what does -he know, what _can_ he know, about any particular trouble? And mind -you, an educated man always knows in more or less general terms what -his particular trouble is. Why Poole--well....” Here Sir Charles ended -with a pitying little smile. - -“At any rate,” said Dr. Bowker, bursting with assent, “I understand -the old trouble has not returned. And if it had, as you very well said, -it would be Felton’s job rather than mine. Of course it has a nervous -aspect; everything has, but every specialist has his own field.” - -And Dr. Bowker went out, communing with himself and deciding that -the foolish anxiety of wives might be an excellent thing for the -profession, but was hardly fair upon the purses of their husbands. - -“Well, Sir Anthony?” said Dr. Bowker as he entered the ground-floor -room. - -“Well, Dr. Bowker?” said Sir Anthony with a responsive smile. - -“I really don’t see why they sent for us,” said Dr. Bowker. - -“I thoroughly agree,” said Sir Anthony Poole. - -“There’s nothing more to be done, I think?” said Dr. Bowker. - -“Nothing,” said Sir Anthony Poole. - -“Shall we speak to Lady Repton?” said Dr. Bowker. - -“We’ll write her,” said Sir Anthony Poole. - -They took leave of Lady Repton in a solemn and sympathetic manner, -assuring her that it was better to give their impression in writing, -and that she should receive it in the course of that evening. And -having so fulfilled their mission, these two eminent men went off -together with a better feeling between them than either would have -thought possible an hour before. - -“He is a singularly intelligent man,” said Sir Anthony Poole as they -parted at the door of Dr. Bowker’s Club, “a singularly intelligent -man. Of course one would have expected it from his position, but I did -not know until to-day how really remarkably intelligent and cultivated -he was.” - -“I thoroughly agree with you,” said Dr. Bowker, taking his leave, “he -is what I call....” He sought a moment for a word.... “He is what I -call a really cultivated and intelligent man.” - -That evening Lady Repton received a short but perfectly clear opinion -signed by both these first-class authorities, that her husband was in -the full possession of his faculties, and that it would be the height -of imprudence to set down any extravagance of temper or momentary zeal -upon any particular question to mental derangement or to connect it -with a slight accidental headache. - -Lady Repton in her grievous anxiety (for at the very moment she -read the message she heard Sir Charles talking to a policeman out -of a window, and telling him that it was ridiculous to try and look -dignified in such a uniform), Lady Repton I say, at her wits’ end for -advice, was bold enough to ring up the Prime Minister whom she hardly -knew, and to tell him all: There was no chance of a certificate; what, -oh what should she do? - -The Prime Minister was not sympathetic. He did not desire further -acquaintance with the lady. - -The Premier’s cup was full. His Warden of the Court of Dowry had -resigned: the new Warden was appointed. The Warden who had resigned -had gone mad; the Warden whom he had appointed had fled. At least--at -least he might have been spared the madman! But no, he was not granted -even this! the madman was still loose over London like a roaring lion, -capable of doing infinite things within the next twenty-four hours. -What was a peerage to a madman? What was a Wardenship of the Court of -Dowry to a man who was not? The crumb of comfort that would have been -afforded him by locking up the wretched lunatic who was the root of -half his troubles was snatched from him. - -It was enough to make a man cut his throat. - -So ended that dreadful Tuesday in Downing Street, and all night long -between his fits of tortured and horror-stricken sleep wherein his left -lung and his fifty-fifth year were the baleful demons of his dreams, -the young and popular Prime Minister would wake in a cold sweat and -imagine some new horror proceeding from Repton let loose. - -The summer night is short. Wednesday most gloriously dawned, and after -two hours of attempted slumber under the newly risen light, the Prime -Minister arose, a haggard man. - -The lines on either side of the young Prime Minister’s mouth had grown -heavier during the suffering of the night. - -Had he been married and had his wife felt for him that affection which -his character would surely have called forth she would have been -anxious to observe the change. But such is the strain of political -life and such the ambitions it arouses, that his suffering passed -unnoticed with the majority, and with the rest was a subject for secret -congratulation. - -He was down very early. Before he had eaten he went rapidly and -nervously into his secretary’s room and said: - -“Any news, Edward?” - -“Yes,” said his secretary, looking if possible more nervous than his -chief, “I’m sorry to say there is. The _Herald_ is advertising an -interview with Repton.” - -“The _Herald_!” said the Prime Minister between his set teeth. - -“Yes, the _Herald_,” answered the secretary, “it really doesn’t much -matter,” he continued wearily, (he had been up most of the night) “if -it wasn’t the _Herald_ it would be somebody else.” - -“We must pot ’em as they come,” answered the Premier grimly, “and the -_Herald_ won’t publish that interview at any rate.” - -“Yes, let them publish it,” said the secretary.... “I’ll write it if -you like.” - -“That’s what I mean,” said the Prime Minister. “I mean they won’t -publish what people think they will.” - -“No,” said Evans, “they won’t.... He’s been shouting out of a window,” -the secretary went on by way of news. - -The Prime Minister groaned. - -“What has he been shouting?” he breathed hoarsely. - -“Oh just insults, nothing important, but the police have complained. -And late last night he pointed out Betswick, who was a little buffy, -stumbling down the pavement--sitting down, some say--. He shouted from -his window to a lot of people in the street that it was Betswick. -And now Betswick is afraid of going to open the Nurses’ Home this -afternoon.... It’s a damned shame!” ended the secretary, exploding. -“What the devil are you to do with a man ... it’s like--it’s like--it’s -like an anarchist with little packets of dynamite.” - -“Have you looked at the papers yet, Edward?” asked the Prime Minister. - -“Some of ’em,” answered his secretary gloomily. - -“Nothing in the _Times_?” - -“Oh no,” said Edward, “nothing in any of the eleven London papers on -the official list.” - -“Do you think the others count?” - -“Well,” answered the secretary thoughtfully, “there are the two evening -papers that have been making such a fuss about the Concessions in -Burmah.” - -“Edward,” said the Prime Minister, “it’s a desperate remedy, but take -the paper you have here, write out a note and get them to lunch. Not -with me--with you. They’ll come.” - -“Lunch is no good,” said Edward. - -“Why not?” - -“Evening papers go to press in the morning.” - -“Do they indeed?” said the Prime Minister, with the first lively glance -he had delivered since the beginning of this terrible debacle. “That’s -really worth knowing! I never knew that.” He gazed into space, then -suddenly waking up he said: “Why then, Edward, there’s no time to lose! -Go and see them at once. Go and see them yourself, Edward.” - -“It isn’t much good,” said Edward. “I know one of them, and the other’s -dotty.” - -“Never mind,” said the Prime Minister, “never mind. Do it somehow. Kill -’em if you must,” he added jocosely, and his secretary went. - -The Premier left his secretary’s room and mournfully approached his -breakfast. - -Upon his table a time-honoured device constructed of brass and wood was -designed to hold the newspaper while the tenant of that historic house -might be at meals. Upon this was propped up, open at the leading page, -a copy of the _Times_. The leaders were discreet. He found no word from -beginning to end, save a little note in small type to the effect that -Sir Charles Repton would be unable to speak at the great Wycliffite -Congress, he was confined to the house with influenza; a similar note -he was assured had appeared in all the eleven newspapers upon the -official list, and through them would be distributed to the provincial -press; the only thing left to the discretion of their editorial -departments being the disease from which the distinguished patient -might be suffering, which appeared in one as phlebitis, in another as -tracheotomy, and in a third as a severe cold. - -Of Demaine not a word. - -Dolly thanked Heaven for the discipline which makes the Press of London -the most powerful instrument of Government in the world. - -His thanks were premature; and the gentle, somewhat mournful atheism -which was his only creed received excellent support when he saw among -certain items of news which were laid upon his table every morning, -two cuttings from foreign papers which told at great length and in -the plainest details the whole story of the dreadful episode in the -City, and connected it in so many words with the scandalous scene in -the House of Commons. He could only comfort himself by reflecting that -news which leaked out abroad was rarely if ever permitted to enter the -Island. He reflected that time is a remedy for all evils, and he made -ready for the duties of the day. - - * * * * * - -Meanwhile his secretary, Edward,--to give him his full title, Teddy -Evans--had come to the first of the two offices which it was his -business to visit. It was not yet nine o’clock and there was still time -to cut on the machine. - -At the Treasury Evans had written regularly for a large evening -paper,--he knew his way about such an organism. He betrayed no undue -haste, well knowing the subtle delight the menials would have before -such a display of retarding his every effort, and when the fat man, Mr. -Cerberus, who keeps the door of the _Capon_ offices, had pushed to him -a dirty scrap of paper on which he was to write his name and business, -he quietly asked for an envelope as well. It was given him with some -grumbling. - -He wrote his message: “If you have begun machining, stop. I’ve been -sent up here urgently.--E. E.” - -He closed it, gummed it down, and waited. He had not ten seconds to -wait. A young man who looked and was underfed, a gaunt tall young man -with hair as long and as dank as the waving weeds of the sea, received -him with immense solemnity. It was not often that affairs of State came -his way. One such had come earlier in that very year. It had been the -occasion of his lunching with the exalted individual who now sat before -him, and he had never forgotten it. - -“Mr. Evans,” he said rather pompously, lifting his left hand and fixing -two large burning, feverish eyes upon the secretary, “this place is the -confessional. Anything you say shall be sacred ... absolutely sacred!” - -But Evans was cheery enough. - -“It’s nothing of any importance,” he said, “but, well, I’m a great -friend of the Reptons.” - -“I know,” said the editor sympathetically, which was odd, for Evans -only just knew the Reptons’ address from having to write them letters, -and the Reptons only just knew the look of Evans’ face from having once -had to ask him to a dinner of an official sort. - -“Well,” went on Evans unblushingly (how valuable are men of -this kind!), “I am a great friend, especially of dear old Lady -Repton--through my mother,” he added in an explanatory tone, “but I -won’t go into that. The point is this: the whole family are really -dreadfully concerned.” - -“I know, I know,” said the editor of the _Capon_, still most -sympathetic, and most grave. - -“Well,” said Evans with affected ill-ease, “the fact is we don’t want -anything said about it at all--nothing. That’s the simplest way, after -all. It’s a great trouble. You really would do me a personal service, -and they would be so grateful.” - -“By all means,” said the editor of the _Capon_. He turned to a -speaking-tube upon his right and was about to pull out the whistle, -when a violent blast blew that instrument at the end of its chain into -his face. The editor expressed disgust, and when this expression was -over, asked for the statement. The statement was brought. - -“They’re waiting for the machine, sir.” - -The editor ran his blue pencil down the list, made a little X against -one item, and said: “Bring me a proof of that, will you?” - -A slip of proof came up: it was to the effect that Sir Charles Repton -was to speak at the Wycliffite Congress and from his candid and -vigorous action of the day before, both in the House and outside it, it -was hoped that his address would act as a clarion call in the present -crisis of religion. (“And it would!” thought Edward, all goose-flesh at -the thought). - -“There’s no harm in that,” he said. Then with sudden thought: “What’s -the leader about?” - -“The Concessions,” said the editor of the _Capon_, smiling. - -“Well,” said Evans, “we don’t agree about that, do we?” And he smiled -back. - -“Shall I leave general orders about Repton items during the day?” said -the editor. - -“Why yes,” said Evans, and then remembering his little subterfuge he -added: “Don’t print anything unless it’s directly from the family. You -understand me?” - -“I understand,” said the editor. “Riggles, the sub-editor will be in -charge after this. I’m going home.” - -He wrote in a large hand upon a large sheet of paper: “No Repton items, -not even Press Agency, except from the house itself. F. D.”--for his -name was Francis Davis. “Take that to Mr. Riggles,” he said to the -devil, and the two men went out together. - -Well knowing that Davis’ house lay in the extreme of the suburbs, -and that he himself was going into the heart of Fleet Street, Evans -offered to give his companion a lift. To his disgust it was accepted, -and he was constrained to drive the editor of the _Capon_ to St. -Paul’s Station; it lost him ten minutes, and those ten minutes were -nearly fatal. For when he had got back at full speed to the offices of -the _Moon_, the paper had gone to press. The machines were shaking -and thundering away in the basement, and mile after mile of diffused -culture was pouring out in a cataract to feed the divine thirst for -knowledge. - -It seemed too late, but Evans went boldly through it all the same. -The editor was gone, but to the sub-editor he sent in his card and -wrote upon it “From the Prime Minister.” It was a time needing heroic -measures. - -He asked to see an advance copy. The leader was Repton--Repton--Repton, -nothing but Repton.... Repton had given away the wickedness of modern -finance; Repton for purposes of his own was prepared to expose the -mockery of our politics; Repton would tell them the truth about the -Concessions; they had a promise of an interview with Repton. What -motives might have caused Repton to act as he had done they could not -determine. It was sufficient for them that Repton, etc.... - -The leader had a title, and the title of the leader was Repton. It had -coined a new word: the word was “to Reptonise,” upon the model of “to -peptonise.” The _Moon_ threatened to reptonise the whole of our public -life. - -Evans spent about thirty seconds looking at the floor. - -“Can they stop the machines, Mr. Price?” he asked, for Price was the -sub-editor’s name. - -“Yes,” said the sub-editor, “Why?” - -Evans walked to the window and looked out into the City street and -said without showing his face: - -“Mr. Price, your proprietor is a very valued member of our party.” - -At the word “proprietor,” Mr. Price changed colour. Yet Evans had not -meant the proprietor of Mr. Price, he had merely meant the proprietor -of the _Moon_. - -“Mr. Price, I will tell you all” (and he told him more than all!). -“Your proprietor left for Canada during the Easter Recess; he was taken -ill in Montreal; he is on his way back, and he will be home next week.” - -Mr. Price nodded and at the same time inwardly admired the omniscience -of the Government. - -“Now, Mr. Price,” continued Edward, still gazing at the street -opposite, “there is the promise of a peerage. These things are hardly -ever mentioned, and I tell it to you quite frankly. If that leader -appears,”--turning round sharply--“the peerage will not be conferred, -and your proprietor shall be told that that leader was the cause of it.” - -“But, Mr. Evans,” began the sub-editor blankly. - -Evans was suddenly determined. It was astonishing to see the change in -the man. His conduct and attitude would have seemed remarkable to the -most indifferent observer: to one who knew that the proprietor of the -_Moon_ had never been, until that moment, within five hundred miles of -a peerage, it would have seemed amazing. - -“Mr. Price,” said Evans rapidly and very clearly, “you are in a cleft -stick. If you don’t print your present issue, if you must delay it, it -will cost your proprietor a heavy sum directly and indirectly. I know -that. But if you _do_ print it will cost him no money, but....” - -Mr. Price thought of the little home at Peckham; of the three young -Prices, of Mrs. Price and of sundry affections that grow up in the most -arid and most unexpected soils: he was in an agony as to which course -would least destroy him: he made one last appeal: - -“May I have it in writing?” - -“Certainly not!” said Evans. - -“Very well, Mr. Evans,” said the sub-editor humbly, “I’ll stop the -machines,” and with a heavy heart he rang the bell. - -Thus it was that the _Moon_ came out an hour later than usual, and -that the leader dealt at so singular a moment with the pestilent -vices of the King of Bohemia, and with his gross maladministration of -Spitzbergen which it summoned to the bar of European opinion. - -Those who have wondered why Edward, without previous training so soon -after this incident was made a partner of the great bank he now adorns, -would wonder less if they had been present at that interview. - -The press was safe. - -That the agencies were safe went of course without saying. Block A -(as a group of eight papers owned by one man is familiarly called by -permanent officials) had been squared, the day before. Block B, another -group of six owned by a friend of his, was for private reasons unable -to publish news of this kind. The _Evening German_ wouldn’t dare, and -the _Bird of Freedom_ wouldn’t know. The _Press_ was safe so far as -Repton was concerned. - -But what about Demaine? - -The _Herald_ had been informed pretty sharply that it was compelled for -unavoidable reasons to postpone its interview with Sir Charles Repton. -The very paragraph had been written out by Edward, and the _Herald_ had -swallowed the pill. - -But what about Demaine? - -_That_ had got ahead of them, and there was nothing to do but to wait -until Demaine should be found. The very moment that he was found they -could act and an explanation should be given that would soon cause the -mystery to be forgotten. But a silence still surrounded that unlucky -name. - -Nothing had been heard in the Lobbies, nothing from Scotland Yard. -Finally, and more important, Mary Smith herself could tell Dolly -nothing, and if _she_ could not, certainly no one else in London could. - -She was really fond of her cousin, and for his sake she comforted, and, -what was more important, restrained the imprudent Sudie. - -As for Ole Man Benson, beyond a natural regret that such an asset as a -son-in-law in the Cabinet was still held over as a contingent and that -he could not for the moment close upon the option, he took the matter -in a calm and philosophical spirit. - - - - -CHAPTER XII - - -“Oh Liberty!” says the Bulgarian poet Machinchose in a fine apostrophe, -too little known in this country. “Oh Liberty,” etc. - -Never had George Mulross Demaine known the sweets of that word in the -days when he enjoyed its privilege to the full. Now, as the brilliant -dawn of that Wednesday awakened him upon the deep he learned the beauty -of Freedom. - -Its meaning saturated his very being as he woke in his miserable cell, -refreshed but very weak, and saw shafts of the happy morning sun coming -level with the dancing of the sea, and making a rhythmic change of -unreal network in the oval patch of light that was cast by the porthole -against the filthy rust of the walls. - -He felt mechanically for his watch and found nothing but bare skin; -then (such a teacher is adversity!) he to whom induction was grossly -unfamiliar, began to induce away like any child of Nature. - -The sunlight was level, for the image of the porthole upon the wall was -but little lower than the porthole itself:--therefore the sun had but -just risen. - -It was June, therefore if the sun had but just risen the hour was very -early: how early he certainly could not have answered if you had asked -him a week ago, but adversity, that admirable schoolmistress, was -developing the mind of George Mulross as the blossom of a narcissus -develops under the first airs of Spring, and he was capable of -remembering a sunrise after the ball at the Buteleys’, and another -after a big supper at Granges’. He was in bed before half-past five on -each occasion. It must therefore be between four and five o’clock. - -The term “solstice” was unfamiliar to this expectant member of the -British Executive, but he seemed to remember that somewhere about this -time of year the nights were at their shortest. - -He was full of a new pride as he made these discoveries. Then two -things struck him at once: the first that he was ravenously hungry, the -second that all motion of the ship had ceased. He heard no sound of any -kind except the gentle lapping of the tiny waves alongside, for it was -calm except for the little breeze of morning. - -He attempted with his new-found powers to pass the time in further -induction, to guess by the position of the light how the ship lay, but -as he had forgotten at which end of a ship the anchor is let go, and as -he had no notion of the tide in the English Channel, nor even whether -tides ran for six hours or twelve (he was sure it was one of the two), -and as, in general, he was grossly ignorant of the data upon which -such an induction should proceed, the effort soon fatigued him. He was -content to prop himself up against the wall and crave for food. - -He heard a step outside, he struck the door with his fist. To his -delight a key turned in it, and the doubtful visage of the boy once -more appeared. Early as was the hour, and divine the weather, the boy -was still gloomy. - -“Gettin’ us inter more trouble, orl on us, yer dirty skunk!” was his -greeting. - -“I’m sure I’m very sorry,” said George. “I only knocked because I’m so -terribly hungry. Can’t you get me something to eat?” - -“Yus,” said the boy thoughtfully, “I dahn’t think! Yer’d myke me chuck -it. Yer’s particler as a orspital nuss,” he added, with a recollection -of a brazen woman in gaudy uniform whom a kind lady had thrust upon his -mother’s humble home just before he had gone aboard. - -Demaine was in acute necessity. “Look here,” he said, “get me some -bread.” - -“Whaffor?” asked the boy. - -Demaine nodded mysteriously, and once again was his gaoler torn between -a desire for some ultimate gain and the certitude that no present gain -was obtainable. - -He was a London lad, with all the advantages that London birth implies, -and it had already occurred to him that Demaine’s accent, manner and -cuticle differed in a strange way from those of your stock stowaway. -He had been impressed in the matter of the food; he was more impressed -by certain little turns of language which he associated with those -hateful, but, as he had been told, wealthy people, who came down and -did good amid his mother’s neighbours in the East End; and when he -had thought it well over and tamed his prisoner further by one more -well-chosen epithet, he went off and came back with a hunk of bread. - -“Yer lucky,” he said as he returned, “thet yer on a short trip. -Otherwyes t’d uv been biscuit....” Then he added, “and gryte wurms in -ut!” - -George did not reply. He bit into the bread in ecstasy, and his eyes, -which his acquaintances in London commonly discovered to be lifeless, -positively gleamed upon this summer morning. - -“They gotter communicyte wiv the orfferities fust,” said the boy -pompously. - -“Yes?” said George with his mouth full. - -“Ho! yus, it is!” sneered the boy, who thought there was something of -the toff in this use of the simply affirmative. “An’ after that they’ll -land yer, and yer’ll ave the darbies on afore breakfast-toime.” He -added nothing this time about hanging. The details of the moment were -too absorbing. - -“How do you mean ‘communicate’?” asked George carelessly and all ears. - -“Woy, wiv a flag, that’s ow,” said the boy. - -Demaine had often been told of the long and complicated messages which -little pieces of bunting could convey, and he had himself presented to -a country school a whole series of flags which, in a certain order, -signified that England expected every man to do his duty. But he could -not conceive how so complete a message as the presence and desired -arrest of an unfortunate stowaway could be conveyed to the authorities -ashore by any such simple means, unless indeed the presence of -stowaways was so common an occurrence that a code signal was used for -the purpose of disembarking that cargo. - -The boy illumined him. - -“They got th’ flag up,” he said, “syin’ ‘Send a baht,’ and when they -sees it they’ll run up one theirselves--then’s yer toime.” - -But the boy’s information, as is common with the official statements of -inferiors, was grossly erroneous. - -A voice came bawling down from above, ordering him to tumble up with -the prisoner. - -Tumble up George did; that is, he crawled up the steep and noisome -ladder, and as he put his head out into the glorious air, thought that -never was such contrast between heaven and hell. He drank the air and -put his shoulders back to it, to the risk of the green-black coat. - -George Mulross was one of those few men who have never written verse, -but he was capable that moment if not of the execution at least of the -sentiment which the more classical of my readers are weary of in Prom. -Vinc. Chor. A. 1-19, Oh the god-like air! The depth and the expanse of -sky! - -The fatherly sky was all light, the sun was climbing, and a vivid -belt of England lay, still asleep, green and in repose under that -beneficence; and in the midst of it, set all round with fields, lay a -lovely little town. It was Parham. - -Demaine had once or twice noted how strangely glad the houses of men -seem from off the sea, but as he was familiar rather with Calais and -Dover, with Ostend, Folkestone and Boulogne than with other ports, and -as he had more often approached them in winter weather than in the -London season, there was something miraculously new to him in this -vision which had been the delight of his forefathers: England from the -summer sea. - -The clear spirit bubbling within him encountered another and muddier -but forceful current as his eyes fell upon the first officer. - -That individual surveyed him with hatred but did not deign to throw -him a word. He bade the lad stand by George in a particular place upon -the deck till he should be sent for; he next threatened several of the -boy’s vital organs if his prisoner were not properly kept in view, and -having pronounced these threats, lurched away. - -“Th’ old man’ll want yer soon, ter fill in is sheet,” said the lad -by way of making conversation. “Myebe ee’ll ave ye larrupped, myebe -ee wahn’t. Ee didn’t the larst un,” he put in as an afterthought, -as though it were the custom to larrup some seven stowaways out of -eight by way of parting, and to make capricious exception of certain -favourites. - -“Yer’ll ave to tyke thut sheet wiv yer; leastwyes whoever’s in charge -of the baht’ll ave ter, an thye gives ut to th’ cops, and th’ cops -shahs ut to the beak. As to do ut, to ave everyin roight and reglar. -Otherwyes they cudden put yer awye--and they’re bahnd ter do that: not -arf!” - -But Demaine was not heeding the discomforting comment of his warder. He -was balancing in his mind the poor chances of the morning, and as he -balanced them they seemed blacker with every moment. - -The shore was perhaps half a mile away: the hour say five, perhaps -half-past. By six, or half-past six at the latest, the earliest people -in Parham would be astir. - -The fixed inveterate hope of the governing class that a gentleman can -always get out of a hole, had dwindled within him to that dying spark -to which it dwindles during invasions and at the hour of death. - -He did not trust his accent, he did not trust his skin, he did not -trust his parentage, he did not trust his wealth--alas, his former -wealth!--to speak more accurately, his wife’s former wealth,--to speak -still more accurately, the former wealth of his wife’s father. - -He trusted nothing but blind chance, his muscles and flight. - -He hated the vision which was in immediate prospect of the little -weasel-faced captain with his pointed red beard, reciting by rote -yet another string of idiotic sentences from a manual; he hated the -vision of the next step, the men in blue, with their violence and their -closing of his mouth by brutal means. Whether he could convince a -magistrate he did not pause to inquire. The way was too long--it was a -dark corridor leading to Doom. - -He heard a second voice calling the boy to the accompaniment of oaths -quite novel and individual and in a high voice that he had not yet -heard, and he thought that his hour had come. - -But the boy’s reply undeceived him. - -“Oi dursn’t!” he yelled down the decks, “Oi gotter look arter th’ -Skunk.” - -Apparently, thought George bitterly, he already had a fixed traditional -name aboard the _Lily_, like Blacky and the Old Man. - -The cook, for it was he, emerged from the galley aft, stood in the -brilliant sunlight and delivered rapid blasphemy with tremendous -velocity and unerring aim. - -The boy whimpered and was irresolute. - -If the threats of the mate had been less practical, those of the cook -might have had less effect, but between the prospect of the excision of -his liver and of a series of hearty buffets and mighty kicks endways, -what reasonable youth would hesitate in a civilisation such as ours? - -The boy faltered visibly, and turning upon the Skunk informed him once -again that he was always gettin’ people inter trouble. Nay, more, he -threatened to pay out the innocent cause of his despair for the divided -duty in which he found himself. - -The cook re-emerged; he had fixed on a new belt of ammunition and began -firing in a manner if possible more direct and devastating and quite as -rapid, as that which had distinguished the first volley. And the boy, -who was, after all, more directly the servant of the cook than of any -one else on board, wavered and broke. With a clear statement of the -consequences should Demaine move an inch from the spot, and a promise -to return before a man could spit to leeward, the boy dashed off to -the galley, and for perhaps five seconds, perhaps ten, the prospective -Warden of the Court of Dowry was free. - -The movement of the human mind, says Marcus Aurelius (imitative in this -sentence, as in most of his egregious writings), resembles that of a -serpent. - -There are serpents and serpents. Minds of Demaine’s type move commonly -with the motion of a gorged python but just roused from sleep; but -even the python will, under compulsion, dart,--and, in those five -seconds, not reason but an animal instinct drove the politician’s soul. - -He was up, on to the bale, over the bulwark and down ten feet into the -sea, before he had even had time to formulate a plan. He could swim, -and that was enough for him. - -The splash made by Demaine’s considerable form as it displaced in an -amount equal to his weight the waters of the English Channel, came to -the ears of the Watch, who was leaning comfortably over the farther -railing at the other end of the vessel, looking out to seaward and -ruminating upon a small debt which he had left behind him in the parish -of Wapping. With no loss of dignity the Watch shuffled forward to see -whether aught was displaced. The splash had been a loud one, but it -might have been something thrown from the galley. - -He first of all looked carefully over the starboard bow to seaward. -There was no foam upon the water: everything was still. It occurred to -him to cross the deck; he did so in a leisurely manner and thought he -noted far down the side, and already drifting astern with the tide, a -rapidly disappearing ring of foam. He was a stupid man (though I say -it that shouldn’t, for he came from Bosham, noble and fateful Mistress -of the Sea), and he looked at the ring of foam in a fascinated manner, -considering what could have caused it, until he was roused to life and -to his duties by the thunder of the first officer who from the bridge -demanded of him in perfectly unmistakable language what he had done to -the Skunk. - -The sense of innocence was so strong in the honest seafaring soul that -he replied by a simple stare which almost gave the first officer a fit, -and in the midst of the language that followed, the boy, positively -pale with fear, came tearing from the galley and found, not his charge, -but the Bosham man gazing like a stuck pig at his superior above, and -at the world in general. - -The reappearance of the boy was a welcome relief to the chief officer’s -lungs and intelligence; it added fuel to his flame. He very nearly -leapt down from the bridge in his paroxysms of wrath, and heaven only -knows what he would have done to the wretched lad whom he would render -responsible for the misadventure had he not at that moment caught sight -of a little speck upon the sunlit water far astern: it was the head of -George Mulross Demaine, battling with fate. - -The prospective Warden of the Court of Dowry could swim fairly well. -It had been his practice to swim in a tank. He had swum now and then -near shore, but he had no conception of the amount of salt water that -can get into a man’s mouth in a really long push over a sea however -slightly broken, especially if one enters that sea in a sort of bundle, -without taking a proper header. Moreover, the phenomenon of the tide -astonished him; he had imagined in his innocence that the sea also was -a kind of tank and that he had a dead course of it for the shore, the -nearest point of which lay just eastward of the harbour mouth. - -As it was, England seemed to be flitting by at a terrible rate, and -the _Lily_, when he turned upon his back and floated for a moment to -observe her, had all the appearance of a ship proceeding at full speed -up Channel, so rapidly did he drift away. - -He swam too hurriedly and he exhausted himself, for his mind was full -of terrors: they might fire upon him--he did not know what dreadful -arsenal the _Lily_ might not contain! - -He remembered having noticed upon the cross-Channel steamers -exceedingly bright little brass guns, the purpose and use of which had -often troubled him. Now he knew!--and he hoped against hope that no -such instrument of death swivelled upon the poop of the _Lily_. - -He dreaded every moment to catch the sharp spit of flame against the -sunlight, a curl of smoke, the scream of the light shell, the ricochet, -the boom that would come later sullenly upon the air, and all the rest -that he had read of:--the first shot to find the range: the dreadful -second that would sink him. - -He was relieved, as minute after minute passed, and no such experiment -in marine ballistics was tried. There was faintly borne to his ears -as he was swept down the ceaseless stream of Ocean, a little clamour -which, on the spot itself, was a roaring babel; he saw a group of men -wrestling with the davits, but the davits were stiff, and boat-drill -was not in the programme of the _Lily_. Indeed of all the crew but two -had ever handled such a contrivance as a davit before, and of these one -was an Italian. - -Another man than Captain Higgins would have been profoundly grateful -to see the stowaway drown; not so that conscientious servant of the -Firm. The stowaway received such food and lodging as had kept him -living until such time as he could be handed over to the Sheriff or -his officers or any other servants or justices of our lord the King, -who were competent to deal with breach of contract, tort, replevin and -demurrer. The stowaway was responsible to the Law, and Captain Higgins -was responsible for the stowaway; therefore must a boat be lowered. And -because there was something grander in swinging out the davits in full -view of a British town and harbour than in chucking the dinghy into the -water, swing out the davits he would,--and he lost ten minutes over -it--ten precious minutes during which the tide had carried the little -speck that was the head of George Mulross Demaine almost beyond the -power of his spyglass. - -Captain Higgins capitulated; he left the davits as they were--one stuck -fast, the other painfully screwed half round, a deplorable spectacle -for the town of Parham, and one shameful to the reputation of the -sailor-men aboard the _Lily_, and he ordered the little dinghy out over -the side. - -They unlashed her and let her down. Two men tumbled into her, the -second officer took command, and they rowed away down tide with all the -vigour that Captain Higgins’ awful discipline could inspire, directed -in their course by his repeated injunctions and proceeding at a pace -that must surely at last overhaul the fugitive. - -When Demaine heard the beat of the oars and again floated to look -backwards, he estimated the distance between himself and the shore and -gave himself up for lost. Now indeed there could be no doubt of the -rope’s end! He could not disappear like a whale for any appreciable -time beneath the surface; the tales he had read (and believed) of -heroes in the Napoleonic and other wars, who themselves, single-handed -and in the water, had fought a whole ship’s crew with success, he -now dismissed as idle fables. There was nothing left for him but, -somewhat doggedly, to continue the overhand stroke, for now that he -was discovered there was no point in the slower breast stroke that had -helped to conceal him. They were making (as they said in the days of -the Clippers) perhaps three feet to his one, but freedom is dear to the -human heart, and he pegged away. - -The Shining Goddesses of the Sea loved him more than they loved the -odious denizens of the _Lily_; they set the tide in shore, and the Sea -Lady, the Silver-Footed One, led the little waves along in his favour. - -He had come to a belt of water where the tide set inward very rapidly, -along a gulley or deep of the shore water. It was a godsend to him, for -his pursuers were still in the outer tide. He was now not a quarter -of a mile from the water-mark, and still going strong, with perhaps -two hundred yards between the boat and him; he could not feel their -hot breath upon his neck, but he could hear the rhythmic yell of the -officer astern, criticising the moral characters of his crew with a -regular emphatic cadence that followed the stroke of the oars ... when -his cold, numbed right foot struck something; then his left struck -sand: ... It was England! And the English statesman, like Antæus, was -glad and was refreshed. - -He stumbled along out of it--the water on the shelving sand was here -not three feet deep. He stumbled and raced along through the splashing -water. It fell to his knees, to his shins, to his ankles, and he was on -dry land! - -A very pretty problem for the amateur tactician learned in the matter -of landing-parties, was here presented. The dinghy must ground far out: -she could not be abandoned; it was an even race, and his pursuers would -be one man short from the necessity of leaving some one in a boat which -had grounded too far out for beaching. - -Some such combination occurred in a confused way to Demaine, but -he had no time for following it up. He did what he had done more -than once in the last unhappy days--he ran. His numbed feet suffered -agonies upon the shingle above the sand, but he ran straight inland, -he crossed a rough road, went stumbling over a salted field, and made -for a wind-driven and scraggy spinney that lay some half a mile inland, -defying the sea winds. As he approached that spinney he saw two men -from the boat just coming full tilt over the ridge of the sea road; as -he plunged into it they were in the midst of the field beyond. - -The undergrowth in the spinney was thick, but Demaine had the sense to -double, and he crept cautiously but rapidly along, separating the thick -branches as noiselessly as he could, and bearing heroically with the -innumerable brambles that tore his flesh. He halted a moment to look -through a somewhat thinner place towards the field, and there, to his -considerable astonishment, he perceived the two sailor-men dawdling -along in amicable converse and apparently taking their time, as though -they were out upon a holiday rather than in the pursuit of a criminal. - -It dawned upon George that there was a reason for this: the second -officer could not leave the boat. The boat and the sea were hidden by -the ridge of the sea road, and the longer the time the hearty fellows -could spend ashore, the greater their relief from labour and their -enjoyment of a pleasant day. He saw them sauntering towards the -spinney; they took sticks and beat it in a sort of aimless, perfunctory -manner, poking into the brushwood half-heartedly here and there, as -though Demaine had been a hare whom they desired to start from its -form. They wandered off along the edge of the wood in a direction -opposite to his own, and paused a moment to light their pipes upon -their way. - -It was a peaceful scene: but a moment would come when that scene could -not be prolonged, and when their activity must be renewed. Demaine, -therefore, pushed through the brushwood, still going as noiselessly as -he could, and came out to the landward side of it upon a disused lawn. - -The grass was brown and rank and trampled. It had not been mown that -season. An old sun-dial stood in the midst of it; a wall bounded it -upon two sides, and there was the beginning of a gravel path. He -followed that path between two rows of rusty laurels, and round a sharp -turn came upon the house to which this derelict domain belonged. He -came upon it suddenly. - -It stood low and had been masked from him by a belt of trees. He saw -a little back door, and,--fatal as had such reasoning been in his -immediate past,--he reasoned once more: that where there was a house -with servants’ offices, there would be a difference of social rank, -there would be education, there would be understanding, and he must -certainly come into his own. - -His bleeding feet, the soaked rags that clung upon him, his hair -hanging in absurd straight lines clogged with salt, would, could he -have seen them in a looking-glass, have given him pause. But the -exhaustion of these terrible hours was now upon him; the heat of the -sun was increasing,--he was under an absolute necessity for food and -repose. - -He boldly opened the door and went in. - -He found himself in a little room of which this door was evidently the -private communication with the garden; it was a room that lifted his -heart. - -To begin with, it was lined everywhere with books, and though he -himself had read perhaps but eighteen volumes in the whole course of -his early manhood, yet a room lined with books justly suggested to -him cultivation, leisure, and a certain amount of wealth. A volume -was lying with its flyleaf open upon the table. He saw pasted in it -a book-plate in the modern style, made out in the name of Carolus -Merry Armiger. Mr. Armiger, it seemed, was his unsuspecting host. Mr. -Armiger’s literary occupations did not interest George Mulross; such as -they were he gathered them to have some connection with the Ten Lost -Tribes. - -Manuscripts were lying upon the table, manuscripts consisting of long -double lists of names with a date between them. The Jewish Encyclopedia -was ranged in awful solemnity before these manuscripts; the Court -Guides, reference books and almanacs of London, Berlin, New York, -Frankfort, Paris, Rome and Vienna, were laid ready to hand, and sundry -slips detailing the family origins and marital connections of most -European statesmen, including of course our own, completed the work -upon which the chief resident of the house appeared to be engaged. - -Forgetting the deplorable condition in which he was, a big scarecrow -reeking and dripping salt water from sodden black rags that clung to -his nakedness, George Mulross sank into a large easy-chair and breathed -a sigh of profound content. - -They might look as long as they chose, he thought they would look for -him in vain! His pursuers did not know who he was nor that he had come -back into his own rank of life again and had certainly found, though -they were as yet unknown to him, equals who would as certainly befriend -and protect him. - -He pictured the scene to himself:--the owner of the house enters--he is -wearing spectacles, he is a busy literary man, a professor perhaps--who -could tell?--a learned Rabbi! The papers and the books upon the table -seemed to concern the Hebrew race. At any rate, a literary man--a solid -literary man. He would come in, preoccupied, as is the manner of his -tribe, he would look fussily for something that he had mislaid upon the -table, his eyes would light upon the form of George Mulross Demaine. At -first sight he would be surprised. A man partially naked, glistening in -the salt of the sea, his hair falling in absurd straight wisps clotted -with damp, his face a mixture of grime and white patches where the -water had washed it, his nails a dense black, his bare feet bleeding, -would stand before him. But this strange figure would speak a word, and -all would be well. He would say: - -“Sir, my name is Demaine. You are perhaps acquainted with that name. I -beg you to listen to me and I will briefly tell you,” etc. etc. - -The literary man would be profoundly and increasingly interested as the -narrative proceeded, and at its close a warm bath and refreshment of -the best would be provided, a certain deference even would appear in -his host’s manner when he had fully gathered that he was speaking to a -Cabinet Minister, and from that moment the unhappy business would be no -more than an exciting memory. - -As George Mulross so mused he rose from his chair and was horrified to -note that there stood in the hollow of it little pools of salt water, -that the back was dripping wet, and that where his feet had reposed -upon the Axminster carpet damp patches recalling the discovery of the -Man Friday, the marks of human feet, were clearly apparent. - -Even as he noted these things and appreciated that they would -constitute some handicap to his explanation, he heard voices outside -the door. - -Alas, they were not the voices of the governing classes, they were -not the voices of refinement and leisured ease. Oh! no. They were the -voices of two domestics engaged in altercation, the one male, the -other female; and the latter, after affirming that it was none of her -partner’s business, evidently approached the door of the room in which -he was. - -For a moment his heart stopped beating. He heard her hand upon the -outer handle of the door; by what form of address could he melt that -uncultivated heart? Those bitter hours of his just passed had filled -him with a mixture of terror and hatred for such English men and women -as work for their living. He had always regarded them as of another -species: he beheld them now in the aspect of unreasoning wolves. - -By the grace of heaven the door was locked. He heard a female -expletive, extreme in tone though mild in phrase, directed towards the -domestic habits of her master, especially with regard to the privacy -of his study, and he next heard her steps moving away. She was coming -round by the garden; there was not a moment to lose ... and there was -not a cranny in which to hide. - -I have expatiated on the effect of misery and of terror upon George’s -brain: I have but here to add that for two seconds he was a veritable -Napoleon in his survey of terrain. He grasped in a flash that if he -retreated by the garden door he was full in the line of the enemy’s -advance without an alternative route towards any base; and with such an -inspiration as decided Jena, he made for the chimney. - -The eccentricities of the master of the house (for he was obviously -eccentric) appeared to include a passion for old-fashioned fireplaces; -at any rate there was no register nor any other devilish device for -impeding the progress of the human form, and George, with a dexterity -remarkable in one of his bulk, hoisted himself into the space -immediately above the grate. There the chimney narrowed rapidly to a -small flue, and he must perforce support himself by the really painful -method of pressing with his feet against the one wall, and with his -cramped shoulders against the other, lying in the attitude of a man -curled up in bed upon his right side,--but in no such comfort, for -where the bed should be was air. - -He had not gained his lair a moment too soon. He could discover from -it the hearth-rug, a small strip of the carpet, and the legs of sundry -tables and chairs, when he heard the garden door open, and other -legs,--human legs--natty, and their extremities alone visible, passed -among the legs of the inanimate things. The head which owned them -far above continued, as the legs and feet bore it round the room, to -criticise the habits of its master. It dusted, it went to the farther -side of the apartment, the feet disappeared. They reappeared suddenly -within his line of vision and stopped dead, while the invisible head -remarked in a tone of curiosity: - -“Whatever’s that!” - -She was looking at the imprint of the feet. Next he heard her patting -the damp arm-chair, and exclaiming that she never! - -The strain upon George Mulross Demaine was increasing, but had it been -tenfold as severe he dared not descend. A slight involuntary movement -due to an effort to ease his shoulder off a point of brick produced a -fall of soot which most unpleasantly covered his face. - -He could hear a startled exclamation from the wench, her decision that -she didn’t understand the house at all, and her sudden exit. - -Hardly had she shut the garden door behind her when a key was heard -turning in the lock in the other door opening into the house, and the -Expected Stranger, the Unknown Host, entered. The moment of George’s -salvation was at hand. - -Two very large flat boots slowly tramped into the narrow region he -could survey: above each nine inches of creased grey trouser leg could -be seen; the boots, the trouser legs, did not approach the arm-chair; -they took little notice apparently of things about them. Their owner -grunted his satisfaction that none of his papers had been removed by -the maid to whom he applied a most indiscreet epithet; he grunted -further satisfaction that she had laid his fire and not lit it. -Apparently it was among his other eccentricities to have a fire upon a -June morning simply because the room was cold, and to let it die down -before noon. - -The Unknown came close to the grate. George heard large hands fumbling -upon the mantelpiece, the unmistakable rattle of a match-box; next -an arm midway to the shoulder, and at its extremity a hand bearing -a lighted match appeared, and the Stranger Host thoughtfully lit the -Newspaper upon which the fire was laid. - -The dense and acrid smoke produced by our Great Organs of Opinion when -they are put to this domestic purpose rose up and enveloped the unhappy -George. It was the limit! And with one cry and with one roar, as -Macaulay finely says of another crisis, the prospective Warden of the -Court of Dowry slid down into the grate, ruining the careful structure -of coal and wood, and stood in the presence of--he could scarcely -believe his eyes--William Bailey! - -That tall, bewhiskered, genial oligarch expressed no marked -astonishment. It is, alas! a characteristic of the eccentric that, -just as he sees the world all wrong where it is normal, so, before the -abnormal he is incapable of expressing reasonable emotion. All he said -was, in a mild tone of voice: - -“Well! well! well!” - -To which Demaine answered, with the solemnity the occasion demanded: - -“William, don’t you know me?” - -“Yes, I know you,” said William Bailey thoughtfully, “Dimmy, by God!... -Dimmy, d’you know that you present a most extraordinary spectacle?” - -“You needn’t tell me that,” said Dimmy bitterly, drawing his hand -across his mouth and displaying two red lips which appeared in the -midst of his features like those of a comedy negro. “The point is what -can you do for me?” - -“My dear Dimmy,” said William Bailey, his interest increasing as the -situation grew upon him, “I am delighted to hear that phrase! I haven’t -heard it since I gave up politics! I haven’t heard it since they tried -to make me an Under Secretary,--only it used to be worded a little -differently. Old schoolfellows of mine whom I had thrashed with a -cricket stump in years gone by used to come up washing their hands and -saying, ‘What can I do for you?’ Now for once in my life some one has -asked me what _I_ can do for _him_. Sweet Dimmy, all I have is at your -disposal. Would you like to borrow some money, or would you prefer to -wash?” - -“I wish you’d chuck that sort of thing,” said Demaine, angrily and with -insufficient respect for a senior. “It isn’t London and I’m not out for -jokes. I’m in trouble.” - -“In trouble?” said William Bailey, asking the question sympathetically. -“Oh don’t say that! Dirty, maybe, and very funnily dressed, but not, I -hope, in trouble?” - -“Damn it!” said the other, “what are you in this house?” - -“What I am out of it,” said William Bailey cheerfully, “a harmless -eccentric with a small property, several bees in my bonnet (the present -one an anti-Semitic bee), and a great lover of my friends, Dimmy, -especially men of my own blood. Now then, what do you want?” - -“Do you own this house, or do you not?” demanded Dimmy. - -“Why,” said William Bailey, “it is very good of you to ask. I am what -the law calls a lessor or lessee, or perhaps I am a bailee of the -house. The house itself belongs to Merry. You know Merry, the architect -who builds his father’s houses?” - -“The books have got ‘Armiger’ in them,” said Dimmy suspiciously. - -“That’s a title,” replied William Bailey, “not an English title,” he -continued hurriedly, “it was given him by the Pope.” - -“Anyhow, you’re master here?” said Demaine anxiously. - -“Oh yes,” said Bailey, “I’ve been master here since the end of the -first week. At first there was some doubt whether it was Elise or the -groom or Parrett, the housekeeper, who was master. But I won, Dimmy,” -he said, rubbing his hands contentedly, “I brought down my servant -Zachary and between us we won. They’re as tame as pheasants now.” - -“Very well then,” said Demaine, “you’ve got to do two things. You’ve -got to cleanse me and to clothe me and to hide me during the next few -hours if the necessity arises.” - -“I don’t know why you shouldn’t cleanse yourself,” said William Bailey -thoughtfully. “You’ve never learned a trade, Dimmy, and you were never -handy or quick at things, but you’re a grown man, and there’s lots of -hot water and soap and stuff in the bathroom; there was a beastly thing -called a loofah that Merry had left there, but I’ve burned it.” - -“Don’t be a fool, Bill!” pleaded Demaine, “there isn’t time, really -there isn’t. Then tell me, what clothes have you?” - -“Mine are too narrow in the shoulders for you,” said William Bailey, -thinking, “Zachary is altogether too thin. You’re big, Dimmy, not to -say fat. The trousers wouldn’t meet and the coat wouldn’t go on. But I -can put you to bed and send for clothes. What d’you mean about hiding? -I can see you have some reasons for privacy; in fact if you _hadn’t_, -getting up that chimney would be a schoolboy sort of thing to do at -your age. Have you been bathing without a licence, and some one stolen -your clothes? Or have they been having a jolly rag at the Buteleys’? -They’re close by.” - -“I’ll tell you when I’ve washed,” said Demaine wearily, “only now do -let me slip up to the bathroom like a good fellow. Good God, I’m tired!” - -William Bailey opened the door and peered cautiously into the corridor, -listened for footsteps and heard none, and then, after locking the door -of the study behind him, as was his ridiculous habit, he popped up a -narrow pair of stairs, with Dimmy, whose old nature had sufficiently -returned to cause him to stumble, following at his heels. - -They were not quite out of the range of the front door when there came -a violent pull at the bell, and Elise went forward to open it. - -William Bailey pushed his guest and cousin into the bathroom and went -down to meet two policemen who stood with awful solemnity, clothed -in suspicion and in power, at his threshold. From the depths of his -sanctuary and through the crack of the half-open window, Demaine heard -a conversation that did not please him. - -“Very sorry to have to ask you sir,” a deep bass was saying, “we’re -bound to do it.” - -“We’re bound to do it,” echoed a tenor. - -Demaine did not hear his cousin’s reply. - -“Are you sure he’s been on the premises, sir?” came from the first -policeman, whom I will call “_Basso Profondo_.” - -“Positive,” answered William Bailey’s voice, cheerful and loud. -“Positive!” - -“Did you see him with your own eyes, sir?” this from the second -policeman, whom I will call “_Tenore Stridente_.” - -“Certainly I did, or I wouldn’t be telling you this,” came again from -William Bailey a little testily. - -“Well now, sir, we’ve suspicions that he’s on the place still.” - -“You’re wrong there,” said William Bailey, “he ran off down the Parham -road when he heard my dog bark.” - -“We didn’t meet any one on the Parham road, sir:” it was the voice of -the Tenore policeman who spoke, evidently a less ingenuous man than the -Basso. - -“I can’t help that,” said William Bailey. “You’re welcome to look over -the house.” - -They thanked him and walked in like an army. - -“It is for your own good, sir,” said the first policeman, in his deep -bass. - -“Besides which it’s our duty,” said the second policeman in his _tenore -stridente_. - -“Of course,” said William Bailey, “of course, and I hope that while one -of you is doing the good, the other will look after the duty. It’s the -kind of thing people like me are very fond of doing, hiding stowaways. -I’ve hidden bushels of them.” - -The tenor was indifferent to his sarcasm, the bass was touched. - -“You know very well, sir,” he said, “what the criminal classes are, or -rather you gentlemen don’t know. Why, he’d cut the women’s throats in -the night and make off with the valuables.” - -“Would he cut mine?” asked William Bailey as he followed them from room -to room. - -“He’s capable of it,” said the bass, nodding mysteriously. “He’s not an -ordinary stowaway,” he continued, lowering his voice almost to a gruff -whisper, “_he’s well known to the police_. He’s _Stappy_, that’s what -he is, STAPPY THE CLINKER! He’s done this trick before, getting aboard -a vessel and pretending he’s a vagabun; the Chief knows all about him! -He did a man in last Monday night in London!” - -To the unhappy man in the bathroom there returned with vivid horror the -recollection of Lewes Gaol; but so long as William Bailey’s wits did -not fail him he knew that more than even chances were in his favour. -His mood changed suddenly, however, when the police, who had been -perambulating the small rooms near his retreat, suddenly rattled the -door of his bathroom and said: - -“What’s in here?” - -“I do beg of you to take care, gentlemen,” said William Bailey angrily, -“that’s the bathroom, and if you want to know, my niece is inside.” - -“Oh I beg your pardon,” said the bass, “I’m sure.” He had the sense not -to doubt the master of the house in a matter directly concerning his -own interest. But the tenor added: - -“We must make a note of it, sir.” - -“By all means,” said William Bailey, “by all means. Her name is -Rebecca.” - -George Mulross Demaine, in the delight of the very warm water, was -soothed to hear them tramping heavily down the stairs once more. - -They examined every room and cranny of the place until they came to the -study door. - -“It’s my study,” said William Bailey apologetically, “I always keep it -locked.” - -He unlocked it and they entered. Their trained eyes could see nothing -unusual in the aspect of the room until the tenor inadvertently -putting his hand upon the back of the arm-chair discovered it to be -both wet and to the taste salt. He had found a clue! In a voice of -excitement unworthy of his office, the intelligent officer shouted: - -“We’ve got ’im sir, we’ve got ’im! He’s been here! Look--sea water. -We’ve got ’im!” He looked round wildly as though expecting to see the -runaway appear suddenly in mid-air between the floor and the ceiling. - -“It is certainly most disconcerting,” said William Bailey in evident -alarm. “But wait a minute. Perhaps he came in here from the garden to -see what he could get, found the door locked on the outside and made -out through the garden again; that would explain everything.” - -“No it wouldn’t sir,” said the bass respectfully, “it wouldn’t explain -_that_!” And his mind, which, if slower than his colleague’s, was prone -to sound conclusions, pointed his hand to the wreck of the fire, to the -heaps of soot that lay upon it, and the disturbance of the fender. - -“He’s gone up the chimney, that’s what he’s done,” said the tenor. - -“That’s what he’s done,” said the bass, putting the matter in his own -way, “he’s gone up the chimney.” - -William Bailey put his head in and looked up the flue, the top of which -was a little square of blue June sunlight above. “I don’t see him,” -said he. - -The constables, one after the other, solemnly performed the same feat. - -“A man couldn’t get up that,” said Bailey stoutly. - -“Ah, _Stappy_ could,” said the bass in a tone of one who talks of -an old acquaintance, “Stappy could get out of anywhere, or through -anything! He’s a wonderful man, sir!” - -Suddenly the tenor solved the whole business. - -“He’s on the roof!” he said. - -Nothing would suit them but ladders must be brought, and they must -climb upon the slates, while William Bailey, consoling himself with the -thought that the property was not his, took the opportunity of dashing -up to the bathroom and banging at the door. - -“Dimmy, Dimmy!” he whispered loudly, “Dimmy, get out.” - -“I’m all wet,” said Dimmy. - -“You’re used to that,” said Bailey unfeelingly. “Dry your feet. Never -mind the rest. Quick!” He threw a dressing-gown in, and Dimmy, as clean -as Sunday morning, emerged. - -“Are your feet quite dry, Dimmy?” - -“Yes,” said that great Commoner, still a trifle ruffled. - -“Well then, let me think.... Go in there.” - -He pushed Demaine into a little writing-room that gave out of the -corridor. - -“Now then, go to that little table and sit perfectly -tight. Do as I tell you and you are saved. -Depart-by-but-one-iota-from-my-specific-instructions-and though you’ll -ultimately be redeemed by your powerful relatives from the ignominy of -incarceration, you cannot fail to become a laughing-stock before your -fellow-citizens! Do you take me, Dimmy?” - -Dimmy, who like the rest of the family was never quite certain whether -William Bailey’s final outbreak into downright lunacy might not take -place at any moment, suddenly sat where he was bid, and his cousin -returned within thirty seconds bearing a woman’s walking-cloak and -a respectable bonnet which, I regret to say, were those of Parrett -herself. Bailey huddled the cloak upon the younger man, banged the -bonnet upon his head, tied the ribbons under his chin, disposed his -person with the back to the door, in the attitude of one writing a -note, and said: - -“Dimmy, could you talk in a high voice?” - -“No, I can’t!” said Dimmy. - -“Try. Say ‘Oh don’t, I’m busy.’” - -“I can’t!” said Dimmy again. - -“Great heavens! is there no limit to the things you can’t do?” said -William Bailey testily. “Try.” - -At a vast sacrifice of that self-respect which was his chiefest -treasure, Dimmy uttered the grotesque words in a faint falsetto. - -“Excellent!” said William Bailey. “Now when you hear the word -‘Rebecca’ that’s your cue. Say it again.” - -The second step is easier than the first, and Dimmy this time replied -at once, the falsetto quite just: “Oh don’t, I’m busy.” And William -Bailey was satisfied. - -By this time the policemen could be heard scrambling down from the -roof; they had found nothing, which, seeing that the roof was in shape -exactly pyramidical, was not wonderful. - -“Well, he’s gone, sir,” said the bass a little relieved. - -“We must see the bathroom before we leave, though,” added the tenor -fixedly. - -“By all means,” said William Bailey, “if it’s empty,” he added with a -decent reserve. - -They went upstairs and on their way he opened the writing-room door, -and said: - -“Oh, there she is. Rebecca!” - -“Oh don’t worry me, I’m busy,” boomed in a manly voice from the seated -figure. - -“Sorry I’m sure sir,” said the tenor, who was now sincerely apologetic. -“We have no desire to disturb the lady, but it was our duty.” - -“Of course,” said William Bailey hurriedly, “of course,” and he shut -the door, mentally renewing his profound faith in the imbecility of -political life. - -The active and intelligent officers of the law gazed mechanically round -the bathroom; they were too modest to examine a certain damp heap of -black cloth that was flung huddled into a corner. They went out with -every assurance that they would not have disturbed Mr. Bailey for -a moment had they not been compelled by that sense of duty to their -country to which they had already so frequently alluded. - -William Bailey accompanied them to the gate, in the fixed desire to see -them off the place, and with a heartfelt silent prayer that Parrett -would not go into the writing-room until he had returned. - -As they reached the gate the bass, who remembered the necessity for -subscriptions to local clubs, charities and balls, and especially to -the Policemen’s balls, charities and clubs, said once more that he -hoped Mr. Bailey understood they had only done their duty. - -“Of course,” he added, “we know Mr. Merry very well, and we take it -you’re a friend of his.” - -“Yes sir,” said the tenor more severely, “and we know who you are. We -know everybody in the place, sir. It’s our business. We know what they -do, where they come from and where they go to. They can’t escape us.” - -With this cheerful assurance the bass and the tenor both slightly -saluted, and the gate shut behind them. - -Outside the gate a little crowd consisting of the two sailor-men, -a dingy officer of the mercantile marine, three young boys, a -draggle-tailed village girl, and a spaniel, awaited the return of the -police, and when it was known that they had drawn blank, this little -crowd paradoxically enough gave cry. Each was now as certain that he -had seen the fugitive in some one of a hundred opposing and impossible -directions as he had formerly been determined that the refugee was -still concealed in Mr. Merry’s house. - -William Bailey hurried back: he went straight to the writing-room. He -thanked heaven that no one had disturbed Rebecca. Without an apology -he rapidly untied the ribbons of the bonnet, hoicked off the cloak and -was bearing them back to Parrett’s room when he heard the voice of that -admirable female raised in hot remonstrance against the misdeeds of a -domestic. - -In tactics as in strategy there is a disposition known as the -offensive-defensive. William Bailey was familiar with it. He adopted -it now, and in a voice that silenced every other sort, he roared his -complaint that the servants perpetually left their clothes hanging -about at random right and left all over the house. - -“Whose is this?” he demanded, pointing to the cloak and bonnet where he -had flung them sprawling on a chair. - -“It’s mine, sir,” said Parrett with considerable dignity. - -“Oh it is, is it?” said Bailey a little mollified. “I’m sorry, Parrett. -If I’d known it was yours I’d have spoken to you privately.” - -“I never left them there, sir!” said Parrett all aruffle with -indignation. - -“I never said you did, I never said you did. It’s none of my business. -I don’t care who left them there; but I will have this house _orderly_ -or I will not have it at _all_,” with which enigmatical sentence for -the further discipline of Merry’s impossible household, he went back to -Demaine in his dressing-gown and brought him through the corridor to -the study. - -“Now my dear fellow,” he said, “are you cold?” - -“Yes,” said Dimmy. - -“Are you hungry?” - -“Yes,” said Dimmy. - -“Are you thirsty?” - -“I am very tired,” said Dimmy. - -“Very well then, you shall eat and drink. I will try and light the -fire.” - -He did so and the room, which was already warm with the June sun, -became like an oven. As he rose from his chair Demaine said in some -anxiety: “For heavens’ sake don’t send for the servants!” - -“I’m not going to,” said William Bailey simply. He went to a cupboard -and brought out some ham, a loaf and a bottle of wine. - -Demaine ate and drank. When he had eaten and drunk he could hardly -support himself for fatigue. - -William Bailey took him to his own room and told him to sleep there. -“I’ve established,” he said, in a genial tone, “so healthy a reign of -terror in this house that you certainly will not be disturbed if you -sleep in my bed. I will see about the clothes.” - -And thus, after so many and so great adventures, George Mulross Demaine -slept once again between sheets, in a bed well aired, in a room with -reasonable pictures upon the walls, and reasonable books upon the -table, with blankets, with curtains, with pillows, with mahogany -tallboys, with three kinds of looking-glasses, with an eider-down -quilt, with a deep carpet, with a silver reading lamp, soothed by a -complete cleanliness, and, in a word, amid all that the governing -classes have very properly secured for themselves during their short -pilgrimage through the wilderness of this world. - - - - -CHAPTER XIII - - -All through that hot noon and down the beginning of the sun’s decline, -George Mulross slept heavily; he slept as in a death, in Parham. - -He slept in the house of Carolus Merry Armiger, under the shield and -tutelage of William Bailey, eccentric, and with God’s benediction upon -him. His troubles were at an end. - - * * * * * - -Meanwhile in London, the young and popular Prime Minister had received -his secretary’s report. The _Moon_ and the _Capon_ were squared. - -How squared he was not busy to inquire. Gold and silver he had -none--for those purposes at least--that would not be in the best -traditions of our public life: but they _were_ squared: Edward assured -him they were squared, and there was an end of it. - -There was more even than Edward’s assurance, though that was as solid -as marble; there were two early copies of the papers themselves which -had been ordered and brought to him. The leader of the one dealt with -those eternal Concessions in Burma, and he smiled. There was not a -word about Repton. The leader of the other was on Fiddlededee, and the -Prime Minister experienced an immense relief. - -But there was still Demaine,--or rather, there was still no Demaine. -And there was still Repton, mad--mad--mad! - -Between Dolly and the awful unstable equilibrium of the modern world, -between him and a cosmic explosion, was nothing but the four walls -round Repton, Lady Repton who bored him, and the sagacity of Edward. It -was a quarter to three, a time when meaner men must wend them to the -House of Commons. He also wended. He was the shepherd and he must look -after his sheep. - -That august assembly was astonished to perceive the Premier positively -present upon the front bench during the process of that appeal to the -Almighty which precedes the business of the day. But _that_ did not get -into the papers:--there is a limit! - -As he knelt there he knew that a man whom he could not disobey was -about to ask a question of which he had given private notice. He feared -it much, he more feared those supplementary questions which are so -useless to the scheme of our polity but which buzz like unnecessary -midges round the cooking of the national food. And when prayers were -over and questions begun, not an inquiry as to an Admiralty contract, -not a simple demand for information from the Home Secretary as to the -incarceration of a beggar or the torture of some insignificant pauper, -but put his heart into his mouth. - -Mr. Maloney’s long cross-examination on the matter of the postmistress -at Crosshaurigh gave him a little breathing space. They couldn’t bring -Repton or Demaine in on that! But there was an ominous question about a -wreck, and who should answer it? He had indeed arranged that the answer -should proceed from the Treasury, but the clouds were lowering. - -The question came as mild as milk: it was concerned with the wreck -which still banged and battered about on the Sovereign Shoals; it had -been put down days before, and the chief legal adviser of the Crown -rose solemnly to reply. - -“My right honourable friend has asked me to answer this question. He -has no further information beyond that which he has already furnished -to the honourable gentleman, but every inquiry is being made and papers -will shortly be laid upon the table of the House.” - -The fanatic rose, the inevitable fanatic, towering from the benches, -and thundered his supplementary demand: What had been done with the -gin? He was told to give notice of the question. - -For three dreadful seconds the Prime Minister feared some consequence. -His fears were well grounded. A gentleman rose and spoke from the -darkness under the gallery and desired to know why the _Warden of the -Court of Dowry_ was not present to deal with matters concerning his -Department? He would have been reproved by the Chair had not the young -and popular Prime Minister taken it upon himself to rise and reply. - -“It is the first time,” he said, “and I hope it will be the last, that -I have heard the illness of a colleague made the excuse for such an -interruption.” - -From the benches behind him those who knew the truth applauded and -those who did not applauded more loudly still. - -With what genius had he not saved the situation! And the questions -meandered on, and all was well, save for that last dreadful query of -which he had had private notice. - -It was put at the end of question-time, not, oddly enough, by the -member who most coveted the apparently vacant Wardenship, nor even by -any relative of that member, nay, not even by a friend: a member surely -innocent of all personal motives put that question. He desired to know, -whether rumours appearing in the papers upon the Wardenship of the -Court of Dowry were well founded, whether the Wardenship of the Court -of Dowry were not for the moment vacant, and if so what steps were -being taken to fill that vacancy. - -The reply was curt and sufficient: “The honourable member must not -believe everything he reads in the newspapers.” - -It is not often that wit of a lightning kind falls zigzag and -blasts the efforts of anarchy in the National Council. Wit is very -properly excluded from the exercise of legislative power; but when it -appears--when there is good reason for its appearance--its success is -overwhelming: and by the action of this one brilliant phrase, perhaps -the most dangerous crisis through which the Constitution has passed -since the flight of James II. was triumphantly passed. - -Question-time was over. The young and popular Prime Minister, now -wholly oblivious of his left lung, answered one or two minor questions, -gave assurances as to the order of business, and left the House a -happier man than he had entered it. He went straight to Downing Street. -When he got to his room Edward was there awaiting him. - -“They’ve got Demaine,” he said. - -The luck had turned! - -For half a minute Dolly couldn’t speak: then he gasped: - -“Where?” - -“I don’t know,” said Edward. “I don’t think anybody knows. There was a -telephone message sent to the Press everywhere.” - -A thousand horrid thoughts! Found dead? Found wandering and imbecile? -Found----? He was faster bound than ever--and that just in the hour -when he must act and decide. He said again: - -“Where did it come from?” - -“I couldn’t find out.” - -“Edward,” said the Premier faintly, as he sat down and fell to pieces, -“you know how to do these things.... Puff!-- ... Do go like ... a good -fellow--find out ... quietly ... ch ... _where_ it came from.” - -Edward went into the next room and called up 009 Central. He was given -1009, kept his temper and repeated his call. A Being replied to him in -an angry woman’s voice and begged him not to shout into the receiver. - -He asked for the clerk in charge and waited ten minutes. Nothing -happened. - -The Prime Minister in his room was not at ease. His mood was if -anything burdened by the delivery of an express message which ran: -“They’ve found Dimmy. M. S.” The writing was the writing of Mary Smith. -He asked the messenger with some indifference to find out who had sent -the message and where it had come from. - -Meanwhile, in the absence of Edward, he went into an outer room and -begged them to call up Mrs. Smith’s house. When he returned there was a -telegram from Charing Cross upon his table which ran: - -“George found.” - -There was no signature. He waited patiently for the return of Edward or -the messenger or of something--hang it all, _something_! - -The little buzzer on his table buzzed gently and the telephone -whispered into his ear that “Mrs. Demaine wished him to know that Mr. -Demaine was found.” He had already asked “Where is he?” when he was cut -off. - -He had received so much information and no more when Edward returned -with the information that the news had come in from Trunk Seven. - -“What is Trunk Seven?” said the Prime Minister. - -“I don’t know,” said Edward. - -They sat together for a moment in silence. The Premier, as befitted his -office, was a man of resource. Outside Westminster Bridge Underground -Station men of insufficient capital but of economic ambition deal in -the retail commerce of news. It occurred to the Prime Minister to -reassure himself from their posters, and from a room that gave upon -Westminster Bridge Road, his excellent eyesight--for it was among his -points that his eyesight at fifty-four was still strong--perused the -placards opposite. - -They were clear enough. - - “LOST MINISTER FOUND” - -said the most decent. - - “DEMAINE RESULT” - -said the _Capon_, which appeared to have forgotten its good manners. - -It ought not to be difficult to get the _Capon_ without loss of -dignity. He returned to his room and in about five minutes the _Capon_ -was brought to him. - -Under the heading “Stop Press News,” he saw “Demaine Result,” and -then underneath, more courteously: “Mr. Demaine has been heard of.” It -was printed in faint wobbly type in a big blank space--and there was -nothing more. - -Edward, entering at that moment, told him that the exact point from -which the message had been sent could not be discovered until Brighton -had cleared. - -“Oh!” said the Prime Minister. - -He was going to call up Mary Smith, but Edward assured him that nothing -more than an inept half-wit maid would answer the demand--he had tried -it. - -Dolly sat on in patience and wondered where Demaine had been -discovered. The matter was of some moment. Without the least doubt he -would have to make up his mind as to the succession of the office that -very afternoon, and it was already close on five. - -Demaine might be discovered suffering from a loss of memory (though -what he had to remember Dolly couldn’t conceive); he might have been -discovered in the hands of the police. He might have been discovered -attempting for some unknown reason to fly the country. Till the Premier -knew more he could not act. - -For a good half-hour he persuaded himself that it was better to wait. -Then he went out and motored to Mary’s. - -And Mary of course was not at home. - -He went on to Demaine House, and found there nothing but a man making a -very careful inventory of all the pictures, all the furniture and all -the glass. He came back to his room, and at last the mystery was solved. - -All good things come to an end, as do all delays and all vexations, -and life itself. By a method less expeditious than some of those -which modern civilisation has put at our disposal, the full truth was -revealed to him. - -George Mulross Demaine was at that moment (it was six o’clock) upon -that afternoon of Wednesday, the 3rd of June, ... drinking brandy and -soda in great quantities and refusing tea, at the Liverpool Street -Hotel. A courteous message from the Manager thereof was the source of -the information, and Edward--Edward who never failed--had been the -first to receive it. - -The message had gone up and down London a good deal before it had got -to the House of Commons; at Demaine House the Manager had been told to -try Mary Smith’s number, and at Mary Smith’s the half-wit having almost -had her head blown off by Edward’s repeated violence, very sensibly -suggested that the Manager should telephone direct to the House of -Commons and give a body peace. - -An instant demand (said Edward) that Demaine should himself come to -the instrument, had been followed by a very long pause, after which he -was told that the gentleman had gone off in a four-wheeler with a lame -horse, and had left the bill unpaid. - -There was nothing to do but to wait. - -Half-past six struck, and the quarter. Their fears were renewed when, -just upon seven, a figure strangely but neatly clothed was shown into -the room, by a servant who displayed such an exact proportion between -censure and respect as would have puzzled the most wearisome of modern -dramatists to depict.[4] - -It was Demaine! - -His clothes were indeed extraordinary. You could not say they fitted, -and you could not say they did not fit. The trousers and the coat and -the waistcoat were made of one cloth, a quiet yellow. The lines of the -shoulders, the arms, the legs, the very stomach, were right lines: they -were lines proceeding from point to point; they were lines taking the -shortest route from point to point. They were straight: they were plumb -straight. The creases upon the trousers were not those adumbrations -of creases which the most vulgar of the smart permit to hint at the -newness of their raiment: they were solid ridges resembling the roofs -of new barns or the keels of racing ships. The lapels of the coat did -not sit well upon it; rather they were glued to it. The waistcoat did -not fit, it stuck. And above this strange accoutrement shone, with more -fitness than Edward and Dolly could have imagined, the simple face of -George Mulross Demaine. - -His hair--oh horror!--was oiled; one might have sworn that his face was -oiled as well. - -The colour of his skin resembled cedarwood save on the nose, where it -resembled old oak. If ever a man was fit, that man was George Mulross, -but if ever a man was changed, George Mulross was also that man. - -“Sit down,” said the Prime Minister delightedly. “Oh my dear George, -sit down!” - -“I can’t,” said George, using that phrase perhaps for the twentieth -time during the last forty-eight hours. “They’re ready-made,” he -explained, blushing (as Homer beautifully puts it of Andromache) -through his tan. “I didn’t sit down in the train and I didn’t sit down -in the cab.” - -“Where have you been, George?” asked the Prime Minister. - -“I’ve had an adventure,” said George modestly. - -“But hang it all, where have you _been_?” - -“I’ve been to sea,” said George. - -“Oh-h-h-h-h-h!” said the Prime Minister. - -“Beastly luck, isn’t it?” said George simply. - -“It’s worse than that,” said Edward grimly. - -“Why?” asked George with something like fright upon his honest if -oleaginous face. - -“Well, never mind,” said Dolly. “It must have been pretty tough. Were -you blown out to sea?” - -George Mulross Demaine’s only reply was to feel inside his coat for -the place where pockets are often constructed for the well-to-do, but -where no pocket seemed to exist. He made five or six good digs for -it, but it was not there. He looked up huntedly and said: “Wait a -minute.” He put his hand into his waistcoat. There again there was no -receptacle, but that which should have held his watch--and even the -young idealism of the Prime Minister permitted him to wonder why no -watch was there. Then George did what I hope no member of the governing -class has ever done before--he felt in his trousers pocket, and thence -he pulled out a bit of paper. - -“Yes,” he said, concealing the writing from them, “You’re quite -right. I _was_ blown out to sea. I had a”--(here he peered closely -at the paper and apparently could not make out a word.) “Oh yes,” -he said, “a terrible time.” His diction was singularly monotonous. -“I-thought-I-should-never-have-survived-that-terrible-night. -A-foreign-ship-passed-me-but-the-scoundrels-left-me-to-my-fate. -I-was-nearly-dead-when-under-the-first-rays-of-morning-I-saw-the- -British-flag-and-my-heart-leaped-within-me.” - -Edward, though not usually impetuous, bereft him of the document, and -as he did so the Prime Minister saw the square firm characters. - -“Good lord!” shouted the Premier, “It’s Bill!” - -And it _was_ the writing of William Bailey. - -“William’s been very good to me, if you mean that,” said Demaine -reproachfully. - -The Prime Minister burst into the first hearty laugh he had enjoyed in -fifteen years. After all, men like Bailey were of some use in the world! - -In spite of Dimmy’s obvious choler, with the tears of laughter in -his eyes, and interrupted by little screams of merriment, the Prime -Minister completed the reading. - -“‘I bit my arm, I sucked the blood, I cried “A sail! a sail!”; and in -less time than it takes to read this, hearty English hands were tugging -at the oars.’ (“Oh Edward, Edward!” gasped the exhausted man, and when -he had recovered his breath continued:) ‘With the tenderness almost of -a woman he lifted ...’ (“Who lifted you?” he asked between his shrieks -and wagging his forefinger to George Demaine. “Oh George, who lifted -you?”) ... ‘He lifted me on board the good ship _Lily_, and when I told -him of the treacherous action of the foreigners, muttered “Scoundrel” -between his teeth. But a man has naught to fear when the brave hearts -of his countrymen are his shield. They landed me at Lowestoft, pressing -into my hands their petty savings, and left me with three hearty cheers -that did me almost as much good as to feel my feet once more upon -British soil.’” - -The Prime Minister laid his head upon the table, wagged it gently from -side to side, uttered a series of incongruous sounds, and very nearly -broke down. - -George Mulross Demaine was exceedingly angry. - -“It may seem very funny to you,” he began, “but----” - -“Don’t, George!” said the Premier, going off again, “Don’t!” - -But George was boiling. “How would you like it----” he began -shouting.... When the door opened and there was announced with extreme -solemnity Mr. Pickle, Mr. Hogge, Mr. Gracechurch, Mr. Fuell, Mr. Nydd, -Sir John Clegg, Lord Cuthbertson, and last but by no means least, Mr. -Howll.... - -One would have said that nothing had happened. There were three doors -to the room--as is proper to every room in which farces are played. - -Through one of these Edward very gently led the stiff but still burning -George. - -Through the second appeared an official gentleman commonly present at -interviews of this kind. - -Through the third the deputation had entered; and the young and -popular Prime Minister, all sympathy, all heart, all ears, all teeth, -all intelligence, heard such an indictment of the maladministration -of Spitzbergen by the infamous King of Bohemia as he had perhaps not -listened to more than thirty-eight times during the course of the last -two years. - -Edward took George by the arm through room after room, down a corridor, -into a hall, then as though by magic an excellent motor appeared. - -They got in, Edward still making himself perfectly charming, Dimmy in a -constrained attitude stretched tangentially to the edge of the seat, -and the motor drove them for a very great number of miles, during which -journey Edward learned all the main story; the robbery, the refuge -aboard-ship, the escape, and the fortunate discovery of William Bailey. - -George was given to understand with that method and insistence most -proper to his character that _that_ story had better be forgotten -and that only what he had been given to read,--and only the gist of -that,--might very well be published to his wife and to the world.... - -It was an understood matter. George did now and then like to row and -fish; a friend had asked him to run down to Port Victoria--it was only -an hour; the friend hadn’t turned up. George only meant to go out for a -minute, put up the sprits’l like a fool, got blown right away in front -of a so’wester into the Swin; then the wind going round a point-o’-two -got blown, begad, right over the Gunfleet. High tide luckily, and the -rest naturally followed. - -These nautical experiences filled George with doubts. - -“There wasn’t any so’wester,” he said with bovine criticism. - -“You silly ass,” said Edward, “who notices a thing like that in London?” - -“You’d notice it at sea,” said George with profound conviction. - -“Anyhow, unless you want a good story against you to the end of your -life, you’ve got to be outside for thirty-six hours, and you’ve got to -land a dam long way off from Parham,--I can tell you that!” said Edward -firmly. - -And George agreed. - -They dined together at Richmond, which suburban town they had reached -by Edward’s directions, and George, replete after so much suffering, -became most genial. He betrayed in his conversation the fact that Sudie -might or might not know the truth; he had not dared to communicate -with her. William Bailey had done so after getting his new clothes, -but there had been no one at home. There was only a man in, making an -inventory, and the footman thought the message had something to do with -him. What Sudie might have heard from others he didn’t know. - -“Where did the telephone message come from?” asked Edward who -remembered the torturing anxiety of his Chief upon that point which now -seemed so futile. - -“I don’t know,” George bleated, if I may use so disrespectful a term of -a man with £100 a week. “I really don’t know. He hired a motor, I know -that, and he drove it himself.” - -“Oh he did, did he? Where did he drive it to?” - -“To a station,” said George lucidly. - -“A long way off?” asked Edward. - -“Oh dear!” said George, “Don’t ask me. Right away over all sorts of -places.” - -“Now, Demaine, listen,” said Evans, concentrating “Could you see the -sea?” - -“No,” said George with a shudder. - -“Could you see the river,--anything?” - -“No,” said George. “We got there at three, and William telephoned from -the station.” - -“But damn it all!” cried Edward, “what was the name of the station?” - -“I don’t know,” said George, “I didn’t notice.” - -Edward tried another approach. “Were there houses round it?” - -“Oh yes, lots,” said George, “lots--and they had laurels, and there was -a lot of gas lamp-posts, and there was a tramway--oh it was a beastly -place!” - -Then Evans understood and Kent, the Garden of England, was in his mind: -Kent and one of its deeply bosomed towns, Chislehurst haply or St. Mary -Cray. “But why did you go to Liverpool Street when you got in at Cannon -Street?” he said. - -“How did you know I got in at Cannon Street?” asked George with -wide-open eyes like a child who sees the secretly marked card come out -of the pack. - -“Never mind. Why did you go to Liverpool Street?” - -“William told me to,” answered George simply. - -“You’ll make a good front benchman,” said Edward half to himself. “Do -you know why he told you to go to Liverpool Street?” - -“No,” said George, “I don’t.... I don’t know.” - -“Well,” said Edward, as though conveying a profound secret, “if ever -you happen to be at Lowestoft, that’s the way you get in to London.” - -“Oh, is it?” said George blankly. - -“Where did he buy your clothes?” asked Edward suddenly, “what shop?” - -“Oh, in Parham somewhere,” said George, “I don’t know where. I put ’em -on before I started of course. I couldn’t stay in a dressing-gown.” - -A thought occurred to Edward. He pulled back the collar of Demaine’s -coat, and saw marked upon a tape, “Harrington Brothers, Parham.” -Without so much as asking his leave he cut the label. - -“What’s on the shirt?” he asked laconically. - -George opened his waistcoat and looked. “Six sixty-six,” he said. - -“It is the mark of the beast,” said Edward. - -“Who do you mean?” said George, bewildered. “William Bailey lent it to -me.” - -“If you’d told me that,” said Edward, “I wouldn’t have asked you what -the mark was; and what’s more, if you had told me the mark I could -have told you the owner. Good lord!” he muttered, “what other man in -England!... Had he hauled his Jewish Encyclopedia down there?” he -suddenly turned round to ask. - -“Yes,” said George eagerly, “how did you know?” - -“Oh nothing,” said Edward, “only I know he is fond of it. Did you eat -ham?” - -“Yes,” said George thinking closely, “I did. Yes, I remember -distinctly, I did.” - -The expression of Edward was completely satisfied. - -The time had come for their return. George, whose carelessness about -money had received very distinct and very severe shocks in the last few -months--nay, in the last few days--insisted upon paying, and Edward, -who knew more than was good for him, allowed him to pay: and further -advised him to spend the morrow, Thursday, in bed. “At any rate,” he -concluded, “not where the sharks can get at you. Wait till Dolly sends, -and that’ll be Friday, I know.” - -They drove back to Demaine House, and Sudie, having heard the news from -half London, was left to deal with the truant as she saw fit. - -As for Edward, he was back late at night in Downing Street where -bread-and-butter called him. But he found his chief with the mood of -that happy afternoon long past, for, one encumbrance well discharged, -the other did but the more gravely harass him, and the memory of -Repton, of Repton doing he knew not what,--perhaps at that very moment -wrecking any one of twenty political arrangements--tortured him beyond -bearing. - -But as the Premier had justly thought that afternoon, the tide had -turned; and when the tide turns in the fairway of a harbour, though it -turns here and there with eddies and with doubt, at last it sets full, -and so it was now with the fortunes of our beloved land and of its -twentyfold beloved Cabinet. - -Repton was at that very moment restored to his right mind--his Caryll’s -Ganglia were restored to their normal function--and would never tell -the truth again. - - - - -CHAPTER XIV - - -All night Sir Charles Repton had tossed in an uneasy slumber; all night -his faithful wife Maria had sat up watching him. She dared not trust a -trained nurse; she dared not trust a single member of the household, -for he muttered as he slept strange things concerning the governance of -England, and stranger things concerning his own financial schemes. - -At one moment, it was about half-past four in the morning,--much at the -time when Demaine, seventy miles away, upon the bosom of the ocean, had -woken to see the sun--his predecessor in the Wardenship of the Court -of Dowry (and still the titular holder of that office) had started -suddenly up in bed, and violently denounced a man with an Austrian name -as having cheated him by obtaining prior information upon the Budget. -He asked rapidly in his mania why Consols had gone up in the first week -of April, and would not be pacified until his wife, with the tact that -is born of affection, had assumed the rôle of the unpleasing foreigner -and had confessed all. Then and then only was he pacified and fell into -the first true sleep he had enjoyed for twenty-four hours. He slept -until eleven, and she, brave woman that she was, snatched some little -sleep at his side, but only upon the edge of sleep as it were, waking -at any moment to shield him from the consequences of his disease. - -When he woke she herself made it her duty to go downstairs and fetch -him his breakfast, but though his repose had recruited his body, his -dear mind was still unhinged. - -He would have it that the Royal Family when they invested in some -concern were not registered under their true names, and he began a long -wild rambling harangue about the death duties and some new story about -yet another outlandish name, and the insufficiency of the taxes for -which it was responsible. The whole thing was described in a manner so -clear and sensible as added to the horror of the contrast between his -sanity and that other dreadful mood. - -By noon, still lying in his bed, he was contrasting to her wearied ear -the cost of the Tubes in London as against those in Paris, and making -jokes about “boring through the London clay.” He went on to ask why a -friend of his had drawn his salary as a Minister for some little time -after his death, and suddenly went off at a tangent upon the noble -self-sacrifice of Lord Axton in exiling himself to a tropic clime, -threatening that unfortunate peer with certain bankruptcy and possible -imprisonment unless a report upon the Bitsu Marsh were favourable. Then -for a blessed half-hour he was silent. - -At the end of it he called for a pen and paper, and wrote a number of -short notes. Luckily he gave them to her to be posted; she read but a -few, and with trembling hands she burned them all, even the stamps, -though she knew how particular he had been in the old days on that -detail. - -He dressed and came down. She persuaded him--oh how lovingly,--to -sit in his favourite room overlooking the Park. She forgot that it -overlooked the crowded throng, and from close upon one until late in -the afternoon this devoted angel clung to him while he poured out -meaningless denunciations of all his world, up hill and down dale, -relieved from time to time (a relief to him but not to her) by a sudden -throwing up of the window, and an address to the passers-by. - -He warned more than one omnibus as it passed, of an approaching combine -between the various lines, and urged the shareholders to buy while yet -there was time. At one awful moment he had begun excitedly to point out -the figure of a Bishop upon the opposite pavement and to begin a full -biography of that hierarch, when she thought it her duty to slam down -the window and to bear the weight of his anger rather than permit the -scene. - -Small knots of people gathered outside the house, but the police had -been warned and they were easily dispersed, with no necessity for -violence beyond the loss of a tooth or two on the part of the crowd. - -As though her task were not enough, the house was full of the noise of -bells, message after message calling for news and for information, but -she had already given orders to the secretary to write out whatever -commonplace messages might occur to him, and he faithfully performed -his duty. - -In her confusion she could see no issue but to try yet another night’s -sleep, and when he carried his hand to his head as he now and then -did, when the touch of pain stung him, she comforted herself with this -assurance, that a paroxysm of such violence could not long endure. - -I say a paroxysm of such violence, though there was nothing violent in -the man’s demeanour: the horror lay in the cold contrast between the -pleasant easy tone in which the things were said and the things that -were said in that pleasant easy tone, while the violence was no more -than the violence of contrast between his absurd affirmations and the -quiet current of the national life. - -The printing of one-tenth of those simple, easily delivered words might -have ruined the country. We owe it to Lady Repton--and I trust it will -never be forgotten--that no syllable of them all was printed, and that -the greater part of them were not even heard by any other ear than her -own. - -She had persuaded him to an early dinner; she had even put it at the -amazing hour of half-past seven. She had ordered such food as she knew -he best loved, and the wine that soothed him most--which happened to -be a Norman champagne. She was particular to request a full service of -attendance, for her experience told her that in such surroundings he -was ever at his best. - -Another attack of pain in the head seized him and passed. She sat -doggedly, and endured. This admirable wife after her day-long watch was -exhausted and heart-sick. She saw no issue anywhere. She sat by her -husband’s side, starting nervously at the least sound from below, and -listening to his impossible commentaries upon contemporary life, his -hair-raising stories of his friends, his colleagues and even of her own -religious pastors, and his bouts of self-revelations, or rather let -us hope, of diseased imaginings, when there was put into her hand an -express letter. - -The superscription was peculiar; it ran: - - To the Rt. Hon. - To the - The Lady C. Repton, M.V.O. - -She opened it in wonderment. Its contents were far simpler than its -exterior: they ran as follows: - - “MADAM,--Your husband’s case noted as per enclosed cutting. I know - what is wrong with him and I can cure him. My price is five hundred - dollars ($500.00) one hundred pounds (£100). The operation is - warranted not to take more than ten minutes of his valuable time. - - “Will call upon you when you are through tea and he is quite rested, - somewheres round eight o’clock. - - “Yrs. etc., SCIPIO KNICKERBOCKER” - - -Caught in the fold of this short note was a newspaper paragraph and a -card printed in gold letters upon imitation ivory: - - DR. SCIPIO KNICKERBOCKER, M.D. - 415 Tenth St. - London, Ont. - - And the Savoy Hotel. - -Had she been alone she would have prayed for guidance. - -Eight o’clock, of all hours! And what was “Ont.”? - -Drowning women catch at straws. Under no other conceivable -circumstances would Lady Repton have caught at such a wretched straw -as this. But the faculty had deserted her, she had no remedy; she saw, -she knew, everybody knew, that her husband was mad; she divined from -twenty indications and especially from the suddenness of the pain, that -the madness was some simple case of mechanical pressure. And suppose -this man really knew how to cure him? She dared not ask her husband to -put yet earlier the hour of his meal, at which he had already grumbled; -beside which, it was too late. The incomprehensible Scipio would arrive. - -She was still in an agony of doubt when she accompanied her husband -(who as he went down the stairs and entered the dining-room was -chatting gaily upon the amours of a prominent member of the Opposition) -and as their lonely meal proceeded in the presence of those great -over-dressed mutes, their servants, to all her other anxieties was -added her irresolution upon the prime question, whether she should or -should not accept the desperate aid of an utterly unknown man, perhaps -an adventurer. - -Just as Sir Charles had finished his soup, and with it his amusing -little story about the Baronetcy which though it had been paid for by -the son and heir (who was solvent) came out after all in the Birthday -List as a Knighthood,--just as he had finished his soup I say, he gave -a loud cry and put both hands to his head just behind the ears. - -“Crickey how it hurts, William!” he remarked to the butler. - -“Yes, Sir Charles,” said the butler in the tone of a hierarch at his -devotions. - -“It’s gone now,” said the Baronet, with a sigh of relief, “but it -_does_ hurt when it comes! What’s the fish?” and he continued his meal. - -He drank a great gulp of wine and was better.... “It’s dry,” he said -doubtfully, “it’s too dry ... but there are advantages to _that_. You -know why they make wine dry, William?” - -“Yes, Sir Charles.” - -“Oh! you do, do you? You’re getting too smart. You couldn’t tell me, -I’ll bet brazils!” - -“No, Sir Charles.” - -“Why,” said Repton with a merry wink, “it’s to save your mouth next -morning!” Then up went his hands to his head again and he groaned. - -“Is your head hurting you again, darling?” said Lady Repton when she -saw the gesture repeated. - -“Yes, damnably,” said Sir Charles in a loud tone. “It’s hurting just -under both ears, just where Sambo gave ... ah! that’s better ... (a -gasp) ... gave the Tomtit that nasty one in the big fight I went to see -last week--the night I telephoned home to say that I was kept at the -House,” he added by way of explanation. - -The servants stood around like posts, and Lady Repton endured her agony. - -“I think what I should have enjoyed most,” mused Sir Charles after this -revelation, “would have been to run across old Prout just as I came out -of that Club. Not that he knows anything about such things, but still, -it was a pretty lousy place. Besides which, the people I was with! It -would have been fun to see old Prout sit up. Shouldn’t wonder if he’d -refused to let me speak at the Parson’s Show after that; and in _that_ -case,” ended Sir Charles significantly tapping his trousers pocket, -“there’d be an end to the wherewith!” He nodded genially to his wife. -“There’d be a drying up of the needful! Wouldn’t there, William?” he -suddenly demanded of the gorgeous domestic, who was at that moment -pouring him out some wine. - -“Yes, Sir Charles,” said the hireling in a tone of the deepest respect. - -“That’s what keeps ’em going, my dear,” he said, “and here’s to you,” -he added, lifting his glass. “Are you put out about something?” he -said, with real kindness in his voice. - -“It’s nothing, it’s nothing,” said that really Christian woman, nearly -bursting into tears. - -“I’m really very sorry if I’ve hurt your feelings in any way, my dear,” -said Charles Repton. - -No symptom of his malady was more distressing than this unmanly -softness, it was so utterly different from his daily habit. - -“I’d never dream of wounding her ladyship intentionally; would I, -William?” he asked again. - -“No, Sir Charles,” said William. - -“I think we’d better go upstairs, dear,” said the unfortunate lady. “Oh -dear!” she sighed as a sudden peal rang through the house, and then -subsiding, she said: “Oh it’s only a bell!” - -“Her ladyship’s nervous to-night, William,” said Repton as one man -should to another. - -“Yes, Sir Charles,” repeated William in a grave monotone. - -A card was brought in upon a salver of enormous dimensions and of -remarkable if hideous workmanship. - -Lady Repton recognised the name. - -“I must go out a moment. I’ll be back in a moment, Charles.” She looked -at him with a world of anxiety and affection, and left him chatting -gaily to the servant. - -Scipio Knickerbocker stood without. - -Any doubts upon the matter were settled not only by his appearance but -by his first phrase which ran in a singular intonation: - -“Lady _C._ Repton? I am Scipio Knickerbocker, M.D. (Phillipsville), -Ma’am,”--and he bowed. He was an exceedingly small man; he wore very -long hair beautifully parted in the middle; his jaw was so square, -deep and thrust forward as to be a positive malformation, but to -convey at the same time an impression of indomitable will, not to -say mulish obstinacy. His arms and legs were evidently too thin for -health, and the development of his chest was deplorable. He was dressed -in exceedingly good grey cloth, but his collar, oddly enough, was of -celluloid. His buttoned boots were of patent leather, his tie had been -tied once and for ever, and sewed into the shape it bore. He carried in -his left hand an ominous little black leather bag. - -“Come into this room,” said Lady Repton hurriedly. She took him into -a small room next to the dining-room, and communicating with it by a -little door; she switched on the electric light and stood while she -asked him breathlessly what credentials he had. - -“Ma’am,” said the physician in a metallic staccato, “I hev no -credentials. What I propose to-night will be my sole credential.” - -In the silence before her reply, Sir Charles’ merry monologue, -occasionally broken by the grave assent of the butler, could be heard -in the next room. - -“What do you say you can do?” she asked. - -“Ma’am, let me first tell _you_ right now what the Senator’s gotten -wrawng with him. In nineteen fourteen, month of September, I could not -hev told you; but in nineteen fourteen, month of October, I could: fur -your distinguished British physicist _and_ biologist, Henry Upton, then -pro-mulgated his eppoch-making discovery. You hev hurd tell of Caryll’s -Ganglia?” - -“No,” said Lady Repton nervously, and in a quavering voice, “I have -not.” - -“Ma’am,” said the Imperial authority with perfect composure, “I hev -them here.” - -He dived into his bag and produced a little card on which was perfectly -indicated the back of the human head, only with the skin and hair -removed; two lumps on either side of the neck of this diagram bore in -large red letters, “Caryll’s Ganglia,” and two white lines leading from -them bore in smaller type, “Caryll’s Ducts.” - -This card he gravely put into her hands. She looked at it with some -disgust: it reminded her of visits to the butchers’ during the -impecuniosity of her early married life. - -When, as the Son of Empire fondly imagined, his hostess had thoroughly -grasped the main lines of cerebral anatomy, he suddenly thrust his hand -into the bag again and pulled out a little pamphlet, which, as it is -carefully printed at the end of this book and as the reader will most -certainly skip it, I shall not inflict upon her in this place. - -It was a reproduction, in portable form, of the great lecture delivered -in the January of that year at the Royal Institute. It set forth the -late Henry Upton’s discovery that Caryll’s Ganglia were the seat of -self-restraint and due caution in the Human Brain. - -The poor woman was too bewildered to make head or tail of it, and -whether the reader give herself the pains to peruse it or no is -indifferent, for its contents in no way affect this powerful and moving -tale. - -“Madame,” he said when she lifted her eyes from it and as he fondly -imagined had mastered its details,--“you do not perhaps see the -con-nection.” - -Her face assured him that she did not. - -“Neither,” he added grandiloquently, “did the world, until I perceived -that if indeed such functions attached to Caryll’s Ganglia, why -the least obstruction of their ducts would condemn the sufferer to -occasional violent pain accompanied by such inability to refrain -from expression as must ruin his career and ultimately make a wreck -of his bodily frame. Madame, cases of such obstruction I hev found -to hev occurred in the ducts. Madame, _I_ discovered by what slight -touch of the lancet the tiny _im_pediment could be instantly removed. -Madame,” he continued, “the Caryll’s ducts in Sir Charles’ head are -ob-structed, hence the recurrent pain and the lamentable attack of -VERACITITIS from which he in-dub-it-ab-ly suffers.” - -“Velossy what?” gasped Lady Repton. - -“_Veracititis_, Ma’am. The phrase is my own; for it is I who have -identified the relation between the ganglia and the distressing -symptoms you have observed. He stands before you, _he_ does. Madame, it -is already enshrined in the proofs of the Columbia Encyclopedia”--he -dived once more into his bag and handed her yet another paper--“as -_Veracititis Knickerbockeriensis_. In Ontario since Washington’s -Birthday, we hev hed three cases; I was called over privately a month -ago for a most distressing case, luckily suppressed--never hurd of, -Madame, outside the family. I hev operated with success. Ma’am, I can -operate with success upon your husband.” - -At this moment a loud scream of pain from the next room, followed by a -gasp of relief and the expletive “Great Cæsar’s Ghost!” almost decided -Sir Charles’ faithful spouse. Another scream that proved the spasms to -be increasing in violence quite decided her. She hurriedly re-entered -the dining-room, found Sir Charles white with the severity of the -suffering, and took him gently by the hand. - -“Darling,” she said, “I have a practitioner who can relieve this. He is -waiting for you.” - -“Oh,” sighed Sir Charles, as the pain left him, “I’m glad to hear it, -profoundly glad. They’re all such scoundrels, Maria, ... but if he’s a -surgeon and can cut something out, I’ll trust him.” - -“It won’t be as bad as that,” said Maria, tenderly helping the Baronet -out through the small door towards the inner room. - -Hardly had he set his eyes on the little doctor when he burst into a -hearty laugh. - -“What a ridiculous little ass, Maria!” he said at the top of his voice. -“Good lord, what a little rat!” - -If proof were wanted of the truth of Scipio’s contention, his demeanour -at this painful moment was sufficient. It was plainly evident to Lady -Repton’s not insufficient dose of intellect that no man would have -stood firm who had not seen the ghastly disease in its worst forms -before. - -“Well,” said Sir Charles, “so you’re going to cut me up, are you?” - -“Oh! _My_ no!” said Scipio. “Lady Repton would never hev permitted -a serious operation without your full con-currence. My proposition, -Senator, is nawthing but two slight pricks in the neighbourhood of the -pain. Ye’ll hardly feel it, but it’ll change ye,” added the determined -Knickerbocker with a suspicion of a smile upon his bony jaws. - -“What with?” said Sir Charles a little nervously. (“Ouch!” by way of -digression as there was a stab of pain.) “Yes, anything, s’long as you -can do it quickly.” - -“It don’t take but a moment,” said Scipio. “But there’d better be some -one hold your hands. There’s no pain worth accountin’.” - -“Might we re-quest the Senator to be seated?” he politely suggested to -the lady. - -Sir Charles as politely commented: “I’m not a Senator, you skimpy -little fool! Good lord, Maria, where do people like that come from?” - -And as he chatted thus, Scipio passed one firm hard skeleton hand over -the top of that great brain, and with the other, even as Sir Charles, -with his chin bent upon his chest, was occupied in explaining to Maria -the physical deficiencies of his medical attendant, he put the edge of -the lancet in the precise position behind the ear which his science had -discovered. - -“It’s his beastly Yankee accent, if it isn’t that beastlier thing, the -Australian,” the great Imperialist was in the act of saying when the -lancet struck suddenly and was as suddenly withdrawn. - -“You’re quite right, monkey,” said Sir Charles in a weaker voice, “it’s -only a prick, and I think”--his voice still sinking,--“that it’s only -due to your great position in the medical world that I should express -my heartfelt thanks for your courteous services. It is men like you, -sir, who mean to suffering humanity....” Sir Charles suddenly stopped. -His voice grew a little louder. “Did you say he was a Yankee or an -Australian, Maria? Australians have the Cockney ‘a’; a filthy thing it -is, too!” - -The skeleton hand was poised again upon Sir Charles’ head; he felt -his chin pressed down upon his chest; there was another sharp little -stroke, this time behind his left ear, and with a deep sigh he seemed -to sink into himself. - -Scipio quietly touched the delicate point of his instrument with -antiseptic wool, put it back into its case and watched his patient with -a professional eye. - -The man was dazed. He gripped his wife’s hand until he almost caused -her pain, and they could hear him mutter disconnected words: - -“The highest possible appreciation.... My public position alone ... -sufficient reward ... in its way a link between ... provinces ... our -great Empire ... daughter ... daughter ... daughter....” Then almost -inaudibly “... nations.” - -For perhaps five minutes the Great Statesman was silent, and his -breathing was so regular that he might have been asleep. - -“Will he go to sleep, doctor?” whispered Lady Repton. - -Scipio Knickerbocker shook his head. “He’ll be less rattled every -minute, Ma’am,” was his pronouncement, and once again he proved his -science by the justice of his prognostication. - -Sir Charles stood up, a little groggy, leant one hand on the back of a -chair, took a deep breath, stood up more strongly, and said at last in -a voice still weak but quite clear:-- - -“Thank you sir. How can I thank you? I seem to remember”--he passed his -hand over his forehead--“I seem to remember some one telling me that -you were born,--though I assure you it is impossible for us in England -to distinguish it,--in one of our Britains Overseas. Sir, an action -such as that which you have just done--a good deed if I may call it -so,” he went on more loudly, seizing Scipio’s right hand between both -of his, “is a cement of Empire! I will never forget it, never! Will you -excuse me a moment sir, while I speak to Lady Repton?” - -With his best and most winning smile Sir Charles asked this question of -Scipio, who for the tenth or eleventh time that evening, bowed with a -kink in the fourteenth vertebra. - -He drew his wife into the hall. - -“I suppose he wants payment on the spot, doesn’t he, Maria? These -specialists usually do.” - -“Yes dear,” said Lady Repton, her old awe returning with his changed -mood. “Yes dear, I’m afraid he does ... he ... in fact, I’m afraid I -promised it him.” - -“How much?” said Sir Charles sternly. - -“Well dear, it doesn’t matter, does it? I’ll pay.” - -“But it does matter. It matters a great deal, Maria. It all comes out -of _my_ pocket in the long run. How much did he stipulate for?” - -“A hundred pounds,” said Lady Repton. - -“Oh come,” said Sir Charles, greatly relieved. “A hundred! That’s a -good lot. How often will he come for that?” - -“He won’t want to come again, dear,” said Lady Repton. - -“What!” said Sir Charles, “a hundred pounds for that?” - -“My dear--if you knew the difference!” said Lady Repton. - -“Yes, yes, I know,” he said impatiently, “the pain’s gone. It can’t be -helped, and of course ninety’s a broken sum. He’d have taken fifty, -Maria. I ought to have seen to this myself,” he added. - -And so, the matter settled, he returned. - -“You’ll allow me to leave you one moment with her ladyship,” he said in -his most winning manner. Then suddenly, “_Good_-night,” and with a warm -grasp of the hand Sir Charles left them. - -Lady Repton was moved beyond words. She put into the young man’s hand a -packet of notes which she had carefully prepared. “It is nothing,” she -said, “it is nothing for what you have done, but oh, doctor, will it -last?” - -“It’ll last for ever--at least,” he corrected himself hurriedly, -“they’ve all lasted so fur, and it’s more’n a year since I did the -first. It isn’t the _kind_ er thing that comes on again. ’Tain’t a -growth.” He was almost going to say what it was, when he remembered -that he held the monopoly. Then, lest he should stay too long in -that house where he was, after all, but a paid instrument, he very -courteously bade her good-night, and as he went home, carrying -his little bag, Scipio reflected that he liked Maria, Lady Repton, -better than he did her husband. But he remembered that operations for -Veracititis were, of their nature, causes for grievous disillusion. - -He put the matter from his mind and took a cab back to his hotel and to -bed. - -Thus was Sir Charles Repton cured of Veracititis, late upon Wednesday -night, the 3rd of June, 1915, and he slept his old sleep. - - - - -CHAPTER XV - - -It was Friday morning, the 5th of June, 1915, and the young and popular -Prime Minister was busied in the Inaugural Ceremony of the Wardenship -of the Court of Dowry. - -Repton or no Repton, the place must be filled. Demaine was back and -Demaine must be there on the front bench before there was an explosion. - -The Inaugural Ceremony which introduces a Statesman to the Wardenship -of the Court of Dowry, technically called “L’Acceptance,” in strict -constitutional practice requires the presence of at least three -persons, the outgoing Warden (technically the Dischargee), the incoming -Warden (technically the Discoverer) and the Sovereign; but since -GHERKIN had, in spite of his eccentric Radicalism, raised the office -to its present position, the outgoing Warden could be represented by -proxy, though such a substitution was rarely made since it eliminated -the quaint custom of the “Braise”--one hundred pounds one hundred -shillings one hundred pence, and a new brass farthing specially minted -for the occasion, the whole in a silver-gilt case, and handed over to -the outgoer, to be regarded with historic respect and some one of its -coins to be kept as an heirloom.[5] - -But Dolly, as he considered the situation on the Friday morning, Friday -the 5th of June, 1915, could see no way out of it; he must simply tell -Lady Repton briefly, and best by telephone, that she must not dream of -her husband’s appearing at Court, even with a keeper, and that it would -be necessary for the Repton household to forego the hundred sovereigns, -the hundred shillings, the hundred pence and the new brass farthing -specially minted for the occasion (the whole in a silver-gilt case), -rather than have a scandal. - -It was Friday, and he was glad to remember it, a Private Members’ Day. -There were no questions. There was all Saturday and Sunday before -him. He would arrange for the Inauguration the very next week. He was -already advised that the officials had been permitted by the highest -authority, in view of Demaine’s recent privations when he was blown -out to sea in the little boat, treacherously abandoned by the foreign -vessel and rescued by the willing hands, etc., to omit the final -accolade with the ebony cudgel which had now for so many generations -formed the last and most picturesque feature of the ritual. - -He took up his telephone and asked the next room to put him on to -the Reptons. He held the receiver while a servant told him that his -message should be immediately communicated, and then in a few seconds, -heard, to his great astonishment, not the tremulous tones of Maria, but -the masterly voice of Sir Charles, as incisive and direct as of old, -saying, “What is it?” in the tone of a man who must come at once to -business and has many things to do. - -“Oh!” cried Dolly into the machine, quite taken aback. “That’s you, -Repton, is it?” - -“Yes, of course,” came the answer shortly. “Well?” - -“Oh nothing. Are you feeling better?” - -“I don’t know what you mean.” This in restrained, quite unmistakable -tones. “My headache’s gone, if that’s what you mean.” - -“Ye-es,” said the Prime Minister, wondering what on earth to say. -“Yes.... Oh it’s gone, has it?” - -“Yes it has; I’ve told you that already.” Then after a pause, “Look -here, I’m really very busy. I’ve got three men here about that absurd -concession. You gave me a free hand, and I can’t wait. Hope I’m not -rude. It’s really very kind to ask after my health. You’ll be in the -House at twelve?” And the telephone suddenly rang off. - -Dolly was in a stupor; he did what he always did, when things perplexed -him: he sent for Edward. - -“Edward,” he said, “that cracked Dissenter has got three men in his -house and is talking about the oil concession to them! Oh lord!” - -The Prime Minister was evidently frightened and troubled, but he did -not seem less frightened and more troubled than the occasion warranted. -He couldn’t make Repton out: there seemed to be another change. - -Edward answered simply: “Why that makes three more who know,--that’s -all.” - -“Do get a taxi,” said the Prime Minister, “and see what you can do.” -And he waited anxiously till Edward returned. - -“Well?” said Dolly as he entered. - -“Well!” said Edward. “He wasn’t very polite, but--but--are you quite -sure that you weren’t worried when you saw him on Tuesday?” - -“Worried,” said Dolly, “I should think I was!” - -“Well that’s what I mean,” said Edward a little uneasily. “Didn’t you -... didn’t you perhaps exaggerate a little?” - -“_Exaggerate!_” said Dolly, jumping up with all his youthful vigour, -and looking for the moment less than forty-eight in his excitement, -“Why man alive, he was wearing a huge great Easter Lily in his -buttonhole, and he tried to wrestle with the butler in the hall!” - -“Yes, but you know,” said Edward, “there’s gaiety in everybody, and it -comes out now and----” - -“Oh gaiety be blasted!” interrupted Dolly. “The man was raving!” - -“Well, they wouldn’t certify him anyhow,” said Edward, “and he’s -not raving _now_! He’s as sane as a waxen image, and as sharp as an -unexpected pin. I’m glad _I’m_ not doing business with him to-day.” - -“Look here,” protested the Prime Minister. “If he wasn’t off, why -did he stay at home like a prisoner all Wednesday, with Lady Repton -preventing any one seeing him? And what was he doing all yesterday, -Thursday? Why didn’t he come down to the House, eh, if he wasn’t off?” - -“I didn’t say he wasn’t ill,” said Edward blandly. “I only said there -might have been some exaggeration.” - -“Oh very well,” ended the Prime Minister wearily, “oh very well!” - -Edward came to a swift decision and telephoned first to the _Moon_ then -to the _Capon_ privately that “it was all right about Repton; there’d -been a mistake.” His chief went out on the duties of the day. - -Yet _another_ change of plan! More bother! He would have to go through -with the peerage now! He went gloomily down to the House of Commons and -learned that Charles Repton was already in his place, stiff, groomed -and regular upon the Treasury bench. - -Dolly came in nervously and shook hands with him. - -Sir Charles took his hand rather coldly; he did not see why a couple -of days’ headache which no one had heard about should be made the -excuse for so much public affection. It emphasised the thing. And he -sat through the first hour of the debate looking as if he would have -been just as well pleased to be made less fuss about. “Anyhow,” he -thought to himself by way of consolation, “I shall be rid of it next -week,” and his mind turned in an equable fashion to his taking his seat -in the Upper House and to what his first business there might be. - -As he was so thinking George Mulross Demaine came in quietly by one of -the side doors. As he entered there was a little subdued cheering from -those who remembered the announcement of his approaching appointment. -It flurried him a little. He sat down and tried to forget it, while the -debate maundered on. - -In the Lobbies Repton continued to suffer somewhat from occasional -congratulations on his return to health. He did not easily understand -them, and he was a trifle gruff in his replies. He was going into the -library for a little peace when a messenger put a note into his hand; -it was from the Duke of Battersea. - -“More fuss!” he thought, but he went immediately with his stiff, -upright gait to where that great Financier was waiting for him, and he -greeted him warmly enough. - -The Duke, like the business man he was, was very brief and to the -point. He congratulated Charles Repton not (thank heaven!) on having -got rid of the slight headache which seemed to have filled the thoughts -of too many people, but upon the great accession the Upper House was -to receive, and then the Duke having said so much went on to what he -really had to say, his pronunciation marred only by that slight lisp -which ill-natured reports so constantly exaggerated. Sir Charles Repton -(he said) would remember the very disgraceful case of the editor of the -_Islington Hebdomadal Review_? - -Charles Repton tried to remember, but could not. - -Well, it wath the cathe of the man who had very properly got twenty -yearth of the betht for thaying that he could reveal how old -Ballymulrock had got his peerage ... a dithgratheful cathe! There wath -blackmail behind it! - -Yes, Charles Repton could remember now, and he smiled a grim smile as -he considered the peculiar ineptitude of that particular convict. Why -old Ballymulrock was the seventh in the title, he had nothing a year, -he was a doddering old bachelor of eighty-seven, he had got it by a -fluke from a half-nephew, and it was only an Irish elective peerage at -that! The convict had pleaded a misprint! What a fool! Yes, Sir Charles -Repton could remember the case. What about it? “I’m not going to take -any action to save him,” he said sharply, “if that’s what you want: he -deserved all he got! If you want some one get Birdwhistlethorpe; Isaacs -that was: he knows North London.” - -“Noh, noh, noh,” said the aged Duke of Battersea in alarm, “you -mithunderthand me!” And he went on to tell the outgoing Warden that -they were determined to bring this sort of thing before the House of -Lords in a Resolution. Would he move? - -“I don’t see what I’ve got to do with it,” said Repton shortly. - -The Duke smiled as he had smiled years ago, when he produced Lord -Benthorpe’s paper and brought that now forgotten personage to heel. Had -Sir Charles seen what the _Moon_ had been saying that very day? - -No, Sir Charles hadn’t. He supposed it was about the oil concessions. -He paid no attention to the _Moon_. But Edward’s telephone to the -_Moon_ and the _Capon_ had borne dreadful fruit. Each editor had -thought to have regained his freedom. - -The Duke of Battersea’s smile grew more portentous; he discovered a -cutting in the inner pocket of a coat which somehow or other always -looked greasy upon him, and as Sir Charles read it, his face darkened. - -“It’s pretty scandalous,” he said as he laid it down. For the leader -in the _Moon_ gave it to be understood in no very roundabout way that -there had been a deal over Repton’s peerage. - -“The _Capon’th_ worth, _far_ worth!” insinuated the Duke of Battersea. - -“Is it?” said Sir Charles, “indeed!” - -“Yeth, indeed yeth,” said the aged Duke, putting the paper forward as -though over a counter; and Sir Charles Repton could not forbear to -read it. It certainly _was_ worse; it simply said point blank that the -Burmah Oil Concession was the price of Repton’s promotion to the Upper -House. And the passage ended with these words: - - “We have no desire to add to a domestic affliction which no friend - of the Government regrets more sincerely than we do ourselves, and - we are willing to believe that the unfortunate gentleman, who we - fear can never again take his old place in public life, was himself - quite innocent of any such dealing; but ambitions other than his own - may have been concerned in this matter, and the giving of permanent - legislative power to a man who now notoriously can no longer take - part in active public life, does but add to the scandal.” - -That decided him! He would nip off that headache legend at once, and -sharply! - -“Yes,” he said, “I’ll move as soon as you like, and the sooner the -better.” He did not say it as though he was granting a favour; and it -was easy to see that the Duke was a little afraid of him:-- - -After a pause during which the two men rose to part, the old gentleman -suggested that Methlinghamhurst should speak after him. - -“Messlingham _who_?” said Repton, puzzled. The name was unfamiliar to -him. - -“No, not Methlinghamhurtht! _Meth_linghamhurtht,” said the Duke of -Battersea, rather too loud. “_Meth_linghamhurtht!” - -Sir Charles shook his head, still puzzled. “I daresay he’s all right,” -he said all starch. - -“_You_ know,” said the Duke of Battersea, craning forward in a -confidential way, “Clutterbuck that wath.” - -“Oh! Clutterbuck! Yes, I remember. Well? Can he speak?” - -“Not very well,” hesitated the Duke of Battersea, “but you know he -wanted....” - -“I really don’t care,” said Sir Charles moving away. “Anyhow I’ll do -it.” - -The Duke was profuse in his thanks. - - * * * * * - -Charles Repton returned to the House of Commons. Another message! - -“The Prime Minister begged to see Sir Charles Repton:” really there was -no end to the number of people wanting to see him that day! Charles -Repton went towards Dolly’s room with such muscles showing upon his -face as would have made any one afraid to say another word about -the headache,--but it was not of the headache, at least not of that -directly, that Dolly had to speak. - -“Repton,” he said apologetically and in some dread, “I’m afraid I made -arrangements for a proxy next week--I mean for L’Acceptance you know.” - -“Oh you did!” said Sir Charles, really nettled. “You might have asked -me first I think!” - -“Well, you see,” began his unfortunate chief,-- - -“As a fact I don’t see,” said Repton drily, “but I suppose you’ve put -it right. I’ve written to say I should be there.” - -“Oh yes, certainly, certainly,” said Dolly hurriedly, “I’ve changed -it.” As a fact he’d done nothing of the kind and was wondering what he -should say to the proxy. “Certainly!” - -“All right,” said Charles Repton moving towards the door. “That’s all, -I suppose?” - -“Yes, that’s all,” said Dolly, with perhaps a hundred more things to -say. “I’ll see that you get notice of the exact hour.” - -“Of course,” said Charles Repton briefly, and he shut the door quietly -but firmly behind him. - - * * * * * - -The inaugural ceremony, though shorn for some years of the backward -entrance which was its most picturesque feature, and now (though not -as a precedent) of the accost with the ebony cudgel, was impressive -enough. The silver-gilt case with the Three Hundred and One specially -minted Coins had been put into Charles Repton’s Seisin by the Symbol -of the Flask of Palm Oil, and was already on its way to his house; the -tinkling shoes had been rapidly put on and off, and Demaine had sworn -fealty for sergeanty in Ponthieu and the Seniory of Lucq, and all the -embroglio was done. - -Lord Repton (for he was content with that simple title--in the Manor -of Giggleswick) was present for the first time upon the red benches, -awaiting the moment for the debate upon the Resolution in which he was -to open and move. - -In the House of Commons George Mulross Demaine, who for the last -few days had been coaching steadily in the duties of his post, and -especially in the really difficult technicalities of replying to -questions, was reading his notes for the last time in the comfortable -room assigned to his office, and repeating to himself in a low tone the -words he had so carefully committed to memory. Edward was with him to -give him courage; and he needed such companionship. - -At last he was summoned. - -The House was very full for question-time, for it was known or -suspected that something of importance would take place that day. The -full nature of the crisis had been understood by very few, but the -disappearance of Demaine and his return, his terrible adventures in the -fishing-boat, his night at sea, the dastardly action of the foreign -crew, and the heroic succour which had ultimately reached him were -public property. - -The silent and little known young member whose disappearance from the -benches under the gallery would never have been noticed, was half a -hero already in the popular mind, and had become particularly dear to -his colleagues during the anxious moments when he was believed to be -lost, and when the press of London had worked that mystery for all it -was worth. - -The House of Commons knows a _Man_. - -There was, therefore, loud and hearty cheering, which, according to the -beautiful tradition of our public life, was confined to no one part of -the assembly, when, that happy Friday, George Mulross entered rapidly -from behind the Speaker’s chair, stumbled over the outstretched foot of -the Admiralty, his second uncle by marriage, and took his seat for the -first time among his new colleagues upon the Treasury Bench. - -The Prime Minister accompanied him. Congratulations suitable to the -occasion were to be seen in the gestures of those in his immediate -neighbourhood, and he himself wore the blest but sickly smile of a man -who is about to be hanged but who is possessed of a fixed faith in a -happy eternity. - -Only one question was set down to him; he had read it and re-read it; -he had read and re-read the typewritten answer which Mr. Sorrel had -furnished him and which he had now got by heart beyond, he hoped, -the possibility of error. The questioner had chivalrously offered -to withdraw his query in deference to the fatigues and anxieties -through which the new Warden of the Court of Dowry had so recently -passed, but the Prime Minister, though appreciative of that offer, -rather determined that his dear young relative should win his spurs; -and trivial as the subject was, Question No. 31 was by far the most -important upon the paper for most of those present. - -It concerned (of course) the wreck which still banged about, the sport -of wind and wave, upon the Royal Sovereign Shoals. This aching tooth -of Empire had cropped up again in yet another aspect. The Member for -Harrowell, a landowner upon that coast, wanted to know whether it was -not a fact that large planks studded, he was ashamed to say, with long -rusty nails, had not drifted shorewards from the wreck and grievously -scratched such persons as were indulging in mixed bathing just off the -popular and rapidly rising seaside resort which lay a little east by -north of the wretched derelict. - -Question No. 29 was answered, Question 30 was answered. Demaine’s -ordeal had come. - -He heard a low mumbling noise some distance down the benches which he -would never have taken to be the single word “Thirty-one” had not his -mother’s half-sister’s husband the Chancellor of the Exchequer given -him a sharp dig in the ribs with his elbow and jolted him onto his -feet. His hands shook like a motor car at rest as he began his reply. - -“I have nothing to tell my right honourable gentleman--I mean my -honourable gentleman....” Here there was a pause, painful to all -present with the exception of one ribald fellow who cackled twice and -then was silent.... “I have nothing to add,” George Mulross began again -with a lump in his throat, “in reply to my honourable friend--to -what my predecessor said in reply to a similar” (another pause) ... -“Oh,--_question_--upon the tenth of this month.” - -He had read all of it out now, anyhow, and he sat down, a trifle -unsteadily, feeling for the seat. - -“Arre we to onderrstand,” boomed the voice of the inevitable fanatic, -“that the carrgo of GIN is yet aboorrd...?” - -“Hey! what?” said Demaine over his shoulder, with a startled air. - -“Get up and ask for notice,” whispered a colleague very hurriedly. “Get -up and say ‘I must ask for notice of that question.’ Say ‘I must ask -for notice of that question.’ Get up quick.” - -Demaine got up, took hold of the box, turned his back upon the -questioner and looking full at the harmless and startled Opposition -said, not without menace: - -“I must ask for a notice of that question”--and sat down. - -There were a few more sympathetic cheers and all was well. The Warden -of the Court of Dowry was launched upon his great career. - -Meanwhile, beyond the Central Hall, Lord Repton of Giggleswick was -rising for the first time among his Peers. - -That House also was full and was prepared to give the spare towering -figure and the stoical face a sympathetic hearing, for the recognition -of a man who had served his country so faithfully and so well and who -had recently suffered a temporary malady of so distressing a nature was -universal and sincere. - -The House of Lords knows a _Man_. - -Lord Repton, even as plain Sir Charles, had always been an admirable -parliamentary speaker: not only quick at debate but with a grave and -lucid delivery which, coupled with his intimate grasp of detail and the -sense of balanced judgment behind his tone, made his one of the most -effective voices in our public life. - -It would be difficult to say by what art he contrived to give in that -large assembly the impression of speaking as quietly as though he were -in a private room, and yet so managed that every word of his--every -syllable,--was heard in every corner of the House. - -In the Peeresses’ Gallery women in mauve, heliotrope, eau-de-nil, -crapaud mort, and magenta, made a brilliant scheme of colour. - -The Lords, who upon occasions of privilege are by custom robed, gave to -the splendid place the deeper tone of red plush and white pelts with -small black tails which is otherwise reserved for such great occasions -of state as the Opening of Parliament, the Coronation, an Impeachment -or a Replevin at Large; at the bar a crowd of Commoners pressed, many -of whom recognised in the faces before them those of brothers, fathers, -first cousins, debtors, creditors and clients in business. It was -an animated and an impressive scene, and the audience, large as it -was, would doubtless have been larger but for an unfortunate blunder -by which the Eton and Harrow match and a particularly interesting -rehearsal of the Mizraim dance were both fixed for that very afternoon. - -As it was, the two hundred or more Peers present were finely -representative of all that is best and worst in the national life. -The aged Duke of Battersea had made a point not only of coming but -of speaking upon such an occasion; the Bishops had turned up in full -force, and the Colonial Peers, now happily added to the ancient House, -were remarkable not only for their strict attention to this historic -business, but for their somewhat constrained attitudes: not one was -absent from his seat. - -The report of a speech, however excellent, is but a dull reflection of -the original, as all may judge who consider the contrast between the -entrancing rhetoric which daily holds spellbound the House of Commons -and the plain prose appearing in the morning papers. - -It would ill repay the reader for the courtesy and charm she has shown -throughout the perusal of these pages, were I to inflict upon her a -mere verbatim transcript of Lord Repton’s famous harangue. But the -gist of it well merits record here, not only because it did much to -kill a poisonous spirit which had till then been growing in English -journalism--but also because it was in itself a typical and splendid -monument of the things that build up the soul of a great man. - -He began in the simplest manner with a review of what had determined -some of them to bring forward this Resolution. It needed no reiteration -upon his part, and indeed the matter was so painful that the mere -recalling of it must be made as brief as possible. - -“It has been suggested that places in that House are acquired by -process of purchase. - -“There, in plain English, is the accusation.” - -He would remark in passing that the cowards and slanderers--he did -not hesitate to use strong language--(and even the sanctity of the -precincts could not check a murmur of approval), the cowards and -slanderers who brought forward that general accusation, dared not make -it particular. - -“In one case,” he said, turning gravely to the place where he expected -to see but was disappointed not to see the very aged frame of Lord -Ballymulrock, “in one case which referred to a peer whose health I am -distressed to say has made it impossible for him to be present upon -this occasion” (a protest from an exceedingly old man who sat folded up -on high--it was Bally himself!), “in one case a direct accusation has -been made.... Melords, you know the issue. An appeal still lies, and it -is not for me to deal with a matter which is _sub judice_; but apart -from that case, these anonymous hacks who have for so long corrupted or -attempted to corrupt the public mind in respect to this House, confine -themselves to generalities upon which the law can take no hold.” - -It was upon this very account that the general resolution of which -he had spoken had been framed, and he would pass at once from the -unsavoury recollection of such acts, to that part of his argument which -he thought would have most weight with his fellow-subjects. - -“This House, including the more recent creations, the Colonial Peers, -and the ex-officio additions with which a recent--and in my opinion a -beneficent reform--has recruited it, still numbers less than fifteen -hundred men. Of these the ex-officio members, the lords spiritual” -(and he bowed to the Bishop of Shoreham, who was deaf) “the elected -members from the Britains Overseas (among whom I am glad to see present -the Nerbuddah Yah) between them account for no less than forty-two. -Two hundred and eighty” (he quoted from a paper in his hand) “are -imbeciles, minors or permanent invalids; somewhat over fifty are for -one reason or another incapacitated from attendance at their debates; -ten are in gaol.” - -“Now, Melords,” he continued, “of the eleven hundred remaining--they -are roughly eleven hundred,--what do we find? We find”--emphatically -striking his right-hand fist into his left-hand palm,--“we find no -less than five hundred and twelve to be the sons of their fathers--or -in some other way direct heirs: ninety-eight to have succeeded to their -titles from collaterals of the first or of the second degree; sixteen -to have succeeded in some more distant manner; eleven to owe their -position to the revival of ancient tenures; the claims of six to have -been recently proved through the female line; and one by Warranty and -Novel Disseizin. What remains?” - -He looked round the eager assembly before him with an attitude of the -head dignified but wonderfully impressive. - -“Melords, I ask again, what remains? _Less than four hundred men_, the -representatives of all the chief energies of our national life. We -have here the great champions of industry, the great admirals of our -fleets, the great generals of our armies--and I am happy to include -the Salvation Army, (the head of that great organisation lifted his -biretta)--men who have distinguished themselves in every conceivable -path of public life, who have loyally served their country and many of -whom after such service are still honourably poor.” - -At this phrase which was evidently the approach to his peroration, many -Peers who had hitherto been sitting with their knees apart, crossed one -leg over the other; some few who, on the contrary, had had their legs -crossed, uncrossed them and reposed both feet upon the floor; more than -one took the opportunity to recline his head upon his right hand, and -the most venerable member of the bench of Bishops coughed in a manner -that would have wrung a heart of stone. - -When these slight interruptions were over, Lord Repton of Giggleswick -found it possible to proceed. He showed by a strict process of inquiry -how those to whom the abominable suggestion might conceivably apply, -could not by any stretch of the imagination amount to eighty in number. - -“Less than eighty men, Melords, in an assembly of fifteen hundred! -Hardly five per cent.--hardly, if I may use a bold metaphor, thirteen -pence in the pound! It is by this proportion alone, even did these -detestable falsehoods contain--which they do not--a grain of truth, -that our whole body is forsooth to be judged! But, Melords, who are -these eighty men, if I do not insult them by permitting my argument to -approach their names? - -“I will not cite my own case; my public career is open for any man to -examine, and I think I know the temper of my own people too well to -delay upon that score. But there are around me others perhaps (I know -not) more sensitive, or less experienced in the petty villainies of the -world, than am I, who may have thought themselves especially marked out. - -“I ask, against which of them could such an accusation be levelled by -name, without the certitude of such a result in any Court of Justice as -would silence the mouth of the libeller for many years? Is it, Melords, -the man to whom we owe the great reservoir at Sing Yan? Is it that -world-famous Englishman who by his organising ability, his untiring -industry and his knowledge of men, has built up the United Sausage -Company’s emporiums throughout the length and breadth of the land? - -“I might extend the list indefinitely: Melords, to no one of these, to -no one member of this House I venture to say, can words of this kind be -addressed without their falsity being apparent almost without need for -proof. - -“I repeat in the words of Burke, ‘No, no, no, a thousand times no.’ I -am not ashamed to recall the glorious phrase with which these walls -echoed to the voice of Ephraim ten years ago: ‘Give me such principles -as these and I will trample them into the dust beneath my feet!’” - -Having said so much, Lord Repton sat down, and it is a tribute to the -fire and the conviction of the man that a young heiress of African -Origin but recently married, who had been listening intently from the -Peeresses’ Gallery throughout the latter part of the speech, gave a low -moan and fainted clean away. - -Her young form was borne down to the buttery by a strong posse of -attendants where the air from the Terrace soon revived her. I mention -the incident only as a signal proof of the oratorical powers that had -illumined Repton’s great career. - -After such an effort Lord Methlinghamhurst necessarily somewhat palled, -especially as an imperfection in his diction, failing eyesight and a -certain loss of memory compelled him to make long and uncomfortable -pauses over the large printed slip which he held in his hand, but -it was over at last, and the Duke of Battersea rose amid the evident -interest of such as remained to hear him, no less than five of whom -were concerned with himself in the Anapootra Ruby Mines. - -The great financier did well to interpose upon such an occasion. His -lisp, with which the House was now familiar, was the only impediment to -a sincere and vigorous piece of English. There was not a word which the -most exuberant would presume to add, nor one which the most fastidious -would dare to erase. - -The proceedings had occupied something close upon three-quarters of -an hour, and the Senate, unused to such delays, was impatient to pass -to the vote, when, to the universal horror of that hall, Ballymulrock -tottered to his feet. There was almost a stampede. Luckily the Aged Man -was as brief as he was inaudible. It was a couple of squeaks, several -mutters, and a collapse. They proceeded to put the question. - -The Peers flocked back again to their places in great numbers; others -stood ready for the Lobbies--but there was no need. - -It was one of those rare moments when many hundreds of hearts, to quote -a wild and lovely poem, beat as one; and with a silent unanimity which -eye-witnesses declare to have formed the most impressive sight since -the first great review of Specials upon Salisbury Plain, the Resolution -was adopted. - -Thus was destroyed, let us hope for ever, what was rapidly growing to -be a formidable legend and one that would have undermined the security -of the State and the honour of our public life in the eyes of rival -nations. - -It was not the least of the services which Charles Repton had rendered -to the State, and as we raise our grateful hats to Providence for the -recovery that made his action possible, let us not forget the genius of -the Young Canadian Doctor who was the author of that miraculous moment -in a story of a thousand years. - - * * * * * - -The Private Members’ time was ended. The House sat on upon the -Broadening of the Streets Bill, the intense unpopularity of which -rendered it especially urgent. - -When the House of Commons rose, near midnight, Dolly and Dimmy went -out together by the door of the private rooms into the cool air and -there in the courtyard were the glowing lamps of Mary’s motor car. She -beckoned them and they got in. - -“You got to come to supper to-night,” she said mysteriously. “They’ll -all be there.” - -Dimmy was agreeable. Dolly tried to plead something but she shut him -up, and after them in single file raced through London half a dozen -taxis and cars and broughams all making in a stream for St. James’s. - -It made such a supper-party as Mary Smith alone in London could gather! - -Her sister-in-law, with the Leader of the Opposition, and his -brother; his right-hand man who had been Chancellor in the last -administration; his nephew, the Postmaster General; Dolly himself; -Dolly’s brother-in-law, the Secretary for India; his little nephew’s -wife’s cousin at the Board of Trade, and his stepmother’s brother at -the Admiralty, sat down,--and so did Dimmy, who was there without his -wife, and also, I regret to say, without a stud, or rather without the -head of a stud, in his shirt; for somehow it had broken off. - -But the reader will have but an imperfect picture of that jolly table -if she imagines that it was a mere family party. - -Our public life is a larger thing than that! Of the five members of the -two front benches who were not connected by marriage, two were present: -the Minister for Education who could draw such screamingly funny things -on blotting-paper, and Beagle, back two days before from Berlin, who -could imitate a motor car with his mouth better than any man in Europe. -And there also, by a sort of licence, was the Duke of Battersea, -brought by Charlie Fitzgerald and his wife. - -They had already sat down when William Bailey, whom no one had invited, -came ponderously and good-humouredly in, affected to stare at the Duke, -and made a place for himself as far as possible from that controller -of hemispheres, who was in his usual chair on Mary Smith’s right hand, -with bulbous baggy eyes for none but her. - -William Bailey smiled all that evening and smiled especially at -Dimmy--but he remained very silent; when, a little before two, they -began to make a move, he had not said a dozen words--and Dimmy was -exceedingly grateful. - -Nay, his friendship extended further: he saw Demaine as they all got up -from table nervously stuffing a corner of the cloth in mistake for his -handkerchief into his trousers pocket. - -“Look out, Dimmy!” he said. - -Dimmy jumped, and the tablecloth jumped with him, and then a crash--a -great crash of broken glass, and the falling of candles. - -Mary Smith was very nearly annoyed, but on such an occasion she forgave -him. - - * * * * * - -North of the Park, for now two hours, Lord Repton of Giggleswick had -slept an easy sleep. - - - - -ON THE PSEUDOLOGICAL FUNCTIONS OF CARYLL’S GANGLIA - -A PAMPHLET - -_Which the reader need not read. It is quite as easy to understand the -book without it._ - - Extract from a lecture delivered, for a grossly insufficient fee, by - a professor of great popular reputation at the Royal Institution on - January 26th, 1915:-- - -“The _Review of Comparative Biology_ in its October issue contained a -short and modest paper over the name of Henry Upton which is destined -to influence modern thought more profoundly than anything that has -appeared since _Lux Mundi_ or the _Origin of Species_. Henry Upton has -been taken from us. Or, to use a phrase consecrated by his own reverent -quotation of it, he has ‘Passed beyond the Veil,’ he has crossed the -bar; but short as the time is since this brief essay was given to the -world, his name is already famous. - -“You will have heard the echoes of passionate discussions upon his -famous theory; it is my business this afternoon to put before you in -clear and popular language that you can easily understand, what that -theory was; and when I have done so I make no doubt that you will see -why it has been thought so transcendently important. - -“Briefly, Henry Upton declared himself finally convinced that between -Man and the Simius Gabiensis there existed a differentiation so marked -as to destroy all possibility of any recent common origin for the two -species. - -“When I add that Simius Gabiensis is but the technical name for the -Ringtailed Baboon of our childhood you will at once appreciate what a -revolution such a pronouncement must work if it can be sustained: and -it has been sustained! - -“It is common knowledge and will be familiar to the youngest child in -this room that the Ringtailed Baboon is the highest of the Anthropoids, -and the one nearest approaching the majesty of the Human Species--Homo -Sapiens; and if between him and ourselves the link of affinity prove -far removed, it seems indeed as though the whole edifice of modern -biology and of modern thought itself will fall to the ground. - -“The superficial differences to be discovered between a cleanly and -well-bred gentleman and the Ringtailed Baboon are common property: the -beard in the Anthropoid is not so clearly defined as in the allied -organism of Man, but covers the whole face; the superciliary arch -is more prominent, the diaphragm tessarated and refulgent, while the -Cardiac Aneries are at once paler and less vasculate in form: the -rings upon the tail are of course peculiar to the Simian, and almost -universally absent in the human species, while the speech of the latter -is far more complex and articulate than that of the former. - -“But I need not detain this cultured audience with considerations -quite unworthy of physical science. All the weight of real evidence -pointed to the close relationship between the two types, and it was a -commonplace of the classroom that in all fundamentals the two animals -betrayed an ancestor less remote than that of the dog and the wolf. -Now, since Henry Upton’s work appeared, we are certain that that -ancestor is more remote than the ancestor of the hippopotamus and the -Jersey cow, and probably more remote than that of the mongoose and the -Great Auk. - -“In every text-book we read (and we believed the statement) that -between a really poor man and the highest specimens of our race lay a -gulf wider than that which separated the former from the Ringtailed -Baboon and even from the Gorilla and the Barbary Ape. To-day all that -is gone! - -“Now let me turn to the evidence. Briefly, again, Henry Upton proved -that CARYLL’S GANGLIA were not, as had been imagined, unimportant or -useless organs, but were organically necessary to the full conduct of -man. - -“It had of course been known since Caryll first described and mapped -these ganglia, that they were present in Man and absent in all other -animals. But they were not unique in this, and the obscure part which -they seemed to play in our economy attracted little attention from -the student. Suddenly these humble agglutinations of organic matter -were lifted into the blaze of fame by an Englishman whose name will -not perish so long as our civilisation endures. For Henry Upton showed -that in these ganglia lay the capital distinction between man and his -congener; if I, myself, for instance, differ in any way from ‘Pongo’ in -Regent’s Park, it is to Caryll’s Ganglia, under Providence, that I owe -the privilege. - -“Henry Upton was not the man to proceed upon _a priori_ reasoning, -or to state as a conclusion what was still a bare hypothesis. He had -suspected the truth ten years before committing it to print: they were -ten years of anxiety, nay, of agony, during which a bolder or less -scrupulous man might snatch from him the merit of prior discovery; but -he felt it was his duty to Science to continue the vast labour and the -patient research, until he could speak once and for all. - -“Upton tabulated in all the enormous number of 57,752 recorded -experiments. He first noted the comparative sizes of the ganglia, in -children and adults, in women and in men, showing them to be larger -in men than in women, and in children rudimentary before the seventh -year. He next proved that in certain professions, notably in those of -the money-lender, the solicitor and the politician, hypertrophy of the -ganglia was to be discovered. The conclusions to which this pointed -will soon be evident. His theory already began to take shape. Luckily -for English science, this great man was possessed of private means. He -organised a staff of enthusiastic young workers who occupied themselves -in treading upon the toes of people in omnibuses, sitting upon top -hats, asking direct questions of slight acquaintances concerning their -financial affairs, and coughing violently and with long, uninterrupted -spasms at the most exciting moments of melodramatic plays. The result -was in each case tabulated, and in over 5·08 per cent. of the cases it -was possible with care to discover the position of the ganglia in those -who responded to the stimuli. Without a single exception the importance -of the ganglia varied directly with the self-restraint exercised -against such stimuli. Those who struck out, swore, or in any other way -betrayed immediate violence, were found to possess small and sometimes -partially atrophied C. G’s. Those who protested sullenly or confined -themselves to angry glances were normal; those who contained themselves -as though nothing had happened, invariably possessed ganglia of a -large and peculiarly healthy type, while those who actually expressed -enjoyment and begged for a repetition of the performance had ganglia of -so astonishing a size as to cause protuberances on either side of the -head, for Caryll’s Ganglia lie (as most of you probably know) a little -south-east and by east of the Aural Cavity. - -“It might by this time have seemed sufficiently proved that Caryll’s -Ganglia were the seat of all that restraint and balance upon -which human society depends; but Upton was not satisfied until he -had clinched the process of proof by a negative experiment upon -animals:--And here let me point out in passing that had certain -well-meaning fanatics their own way, this great revelation would never -have been made. The horse, the pig, the common house-fly, the bee, the -dog and the wild goose, to give but a few examples, were severally -tested, and in each case it was discovered that a clout, a fillip, or -any other simple stimulus was at once responded to. In no case was a -trace of Caryll’s Ganglia to be found. - -“You all know the end! - -“The essay was printed, Upton’s name had already flown to the utmost -corners of the globe, when he read in some obscure narrative of travel -that the little armadillo that can sleep without a pillow, though -possessing no ganglia, was capable of the same balance and restraint -as man, could control himself under all but the most violent stimuli, -conceal his most poignant necessities, and smile in the presence of -death. - -“Upton was a Scientist of the Scientists. One single exception and he -would retract from his position. He sailed for the Amazon, interviewed -the armadillo, but at the first pin he thrust into the fleshy portion -of the animal’s steaks, a little below the armoured belt, it belied the -false report by turning savagely round and biting off his head. His -remains were reverently brought home to London. He lies in Westminster -Abbey, the last and perhaps the greatest of martyrs to scientific -truth. - -“If Henry Upton’s immortal achievement seems for a moment to have -broken down the very keystone in the arch of social progress, and to -have made null the whole structure of biological truth; if it leaves -Man no longer propped up by a knowledge of cousinship and brotherhood -with the beasts of the field, but all alone, an exile upon earth, -nevertheless we must take courage. The Bishop of Shoreham has told us -(Etc., etc., etc.).” - - - - - _Printed by_ - MORRISON & GIBB LIMITED - _Edinburgh_ - - - - -FOOTNOTES: - - -[1] Dollars, not pounds. - -[2] He did. - -[3] [Greek: ... mega sthenos Ôkeanoio - Antyga par pymatên sakeos pyka poiêtoio.] - - -[4] I refer to Mr. Bulge, and I refer to him both as an actor and as an -author. Amen. - -[5] There are two such farthings in the Heygate family to-day. - - - - -TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES: - - - Italicized text is surrounded by underscores: _italics_. - - Obvious typographical errors have been corrected. - - Inconsistencies in hyphenation have been standardized. - - Archaic or alternate spelling that may have been in use at the time of - publication has been retained. - - - - - - -End of Project Gutenberg's A Change in the Cabinet, by Hilaire Belloc - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A CHANGE IN THE CABINET *** - -***** This file should be named 60967-0.txt or 60967-0.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/6/0/9/6/60967/ - -Produced by Tim Lindell, David E. 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