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A Prince of Sinners, a novel by E. Phillips Oppenheim |
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Part 2 - Chapter 2. The Heckling Of Henslow |
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_ PART II CHAPTER II. THE HECKLING OF HENSLOW "The long and short of it is, then, Mr. Henslow, that you decline to fulfil your pledges given at the last election?" Brooks asked, coldly. "Nothing of the sort," Mr. Henslow declared, testily. "You have no right to suggest anything of the sort." "No right!" "Certainly not. You are my agent, and you ought to work with me instead--" "I have already told you," Brooks interrupted, '"that I am nothing of the sort. I should not dream of acting for you again, and if you think a formal resignation necessary, I will post you one to-morrow. I am one of your constituents, nothing more or less. But as I am in some measure responsible for your presence here, I consider myself within my rights in asking you these questions." "I'm not going to be hectored!" Mr. Henslow declared. "Nobody wants to hector you! You gave certain pledges to us, and you have not fulfilled one of them." "They won't let me. I'm not here as an independent Member. I'm here as a Liberal, and Sir Henry himself struck out my proposed question and motion. I must go with the Party." "You know quite well," Brooks said, "that you are within your rights in keeping the pledges you made to the mass meeting at Medchester." Henslow shook his head. "It would be no good," he declared. "I've sounded lots of men about it. I myself have not changed. I believe in some measure of protection. I am a firm believer in it. But the House wouldn't listen to me. The times are not ripe for anything of the sort yet." "How do you know until you try?" Brooks protested. "Your promise was to bring the question before Parliament in connection with the vast and increasing number of unemployed. You are within your rights in doing so, and to speak frankly we insist upon it, or we ask for your resignation." "Are you speaking with authority, young man?" Mr. Henslow asked. "Of course I am. I am the representative of the Liberal Parliamentary Committee, and I am empowered to say these things to you, and more. "Well, I'll do the best I can to get a date," Mr. Henslow said, grumblingly, "but you fellows are always in such a hurry, and you don't understand that it don't go up here. We have to wait our time month after month sometimes." "I don't see any motion down in your name at all yet," Brooks remarked. "I told you that Sir Henry struck it through." "Then I shall call upon him and point out that he is throwing away a Liberal seat at the next election," Brooks replied. "He isn't the sort of man to encourage a Member to break his election pledges." "You'll make a mess of the whole thing if you do anything of the sort," Henslow declared. "Look here, come and have a bit of dinner with me, and talk things over a bit more pleasantly, eh? There's no use in getting our rags out." "Please excuse me," Brooks said. "I have arranged to dine elsewhere. I do not wish to seem dictatorial or unreasonable, but I have just come from Medchester, where the distress is, if anything, worse than ever. It makes one's heart sick to walk the streets, and when I look into the people's faces I seem to always hear that great shout of hope and enthusiasm which your speech in the market-place evoked. You see, there is only one real hope for these people, and that is legislation, and you are the man directly responsible to them for that." "I'll tell you what I'll do!" Mr. Henslow said, in a burst of generosity. "I'll send another ten guineas to the Unemployed Fund." "Take my advice and don't," Brooks answered, dryly. "They might be reminded of the people who clamoured for bread and were offered a stone. Do your duty here. Keep your pledges. Speak in the House with the same passion and the same eloquence as when you sowed hope in the heart of those suffering thousands. Some one must break away from this musty routine of Party politics. The people will be heard, Mr. Henslow. Their voice has dominated the fate of every nation in time, and it will be so with ours." Mr. Henslow was silent for a few minutes. This young man who would not drink champagne, or be hail-fellow-well-met, and who was in such deadly earnest, was a nuisance. "I tell you what I'll do," he said at last. "I'll have a few words with Sir Henry, and see you tomorrow at what time you like." "Certainly," Brooks answered, rising. "If you will allow me to make a suggestion, Mr. Henslow, I would ask you to run through in your memory all your speeches and go through your pledges one by one. Let Sir Henry understand that your constituents will not be trifled with, for it is not a question of another candidate, it is a question of another party. You have set the ball rolling, and I can assure you that the next Member whom Medchester sends here, whether it be you or any one else, will come fully pledged to a certain measure of Protection." Mr. Henslow nodded. "Very well," he said, gloomily. "Where are you staying? "At the Metropole. Mr. Bullsom is there also." "I will call," Mr. Henslow promised, "at three o'clock, if that is convenient." Brooks passed out across the great courtyard and through the gates. He had gone to his interview with Henslow in a somewhat depressed state of mind, and its result had not been enlivening. Were all politics like this? Was the greatest of causes, the cause of the people, to be tossed about from one to the other, a joke with some, a juggling ball with others, never to be dealt with firmly and wisely by the brains and generosity of the Empire? He looked back at the Houses of Parliament, with their myriad lights, their dark, impressive outline. And for a moment the depression passed away. He thought of the freedom which had been won within those walls, of the gigantic struggles, the endless, restless journeying onward towards the truths, the great truths of the world. All politicians were not as this man Henslow. There were others, more strenuous, more single-hearted. He himself--and his heart beat at the thought--why should he not take his place there? The thought fascinated him,--every word of Lord Arranmore's letter which he had recently received, seemed to stand out before him. His feet fell more blithely upon the pavement, he carried himself with a different air. Here were ample means to fill his life,--means by which he could crush out that sweet but unhappy tangle of memories which somehow or other had stolen the flavour out of life for the last few weeks. At the hotel he glanced at the clock. It was just eight, and he was to accompany the Bullsoms to the theatre. He met them in the hall, and Selina looked with reproach at his morning clothes. She was wearing a new swansdown theatre cloak, with a collar which she had turned up round her face like a frame. She was convinced that she had never looked so well in her life. "Mr. Brooks, how naughty of you," she exclaimed, shaking her head in mock reproach. "Why, the play begins at 8:15, and it is eight o'clock already. Have you had dinner?" "Oh, I can manage with something in my room while I change," he answered cheerily. "I'm going to take you all out to supper after the theatre, you know. Don't wait for me--I'll come on. His Majesty's, isn't it?" "I'll keep your seat," Selina promised him, lowering her voice. "That is, if you are very good and come before it is half over. Do you know that we met a friend of yours, and he lent us his carriage, and I think he's charming." Brooks looked surprised. He glanced at Mary, and saw a look in her face which came as a revelation to him. "You don't mean--" "Lord Arranmore!" Selina declared, triumphantly. "He was so nice, he wouldn't let us come home in a cab. He positively made us take his own carriage." Mr. Bullsom came hurrying up. "Cab waiting," he announced. "Come on, girls." "See you later, then, Brooks." Brooks changed his clothes leisurely, and went into the smoking-room for some sandwiches and a glass of wine. A small boy shouting his number attracted his attention. He called him, and was handed a card. "Lord Arranmore!" "You can show the gentleman here," Brooks directed. Arranmore came in, and nodded a little wearily to Brooks, whom he had not seen since the latter had left Enton. "I won't keep you," he remarked. "I just wanted a word with you about that obstinate young person Miss--er--Scott." Brooks wheeled an easy-chair towards him. "I am in no great hurry," he remarked. Arranmore glanced at the clock. "More am I," he said, "but I find I am dining with the Prime Minister at nine o'clock. It occurs to me that you may have some influence with her." "We are on fairly friendly terms," Brooks admitted. "Just so. Well, she may have told you that my solicitors approached her, as the daughter of Martin Scott, with the offer of a certain sum of money, which is only a fair and reasonable item, which I won from her father at a time when we were not playing on equal terms. It was through that she found me out." "Yes, I knew as much as that." "So I imagined. But the hot-headed young woman has up to now steadily refused to accept anything whatever from me. Quite ridiculous of her. There's no doubt that I broke up the happy home, and all that sort of thing, and I really can't see why she shouldn't permit me the opportunity of making some restitution." "You want her to afford you the luxury of salving your conscience," Brooks remarked, dryly. Lord Arranmore laughed hardly. "Conscience," he repeated. "You ought to know me better, Brooks, than to suppose me possessed of such a thing. No; I have a sense of justice, that is all--a sort of weakness for seeing the scales held fairly. Now, don't you think it is reasonable that she should accept this money from me?" "It depends entirely upon how she feels," Brooks answered. "You have no right to press it upon her if she has scruples. Nor have you any right to try and enlist her family on your side, as you seem to be doing." Will you discuss it with her? "I should not attempt to influence her," Brooks answered. "Be reasonable, Brooks. The money can make no earthly difference to me, and it secures for her independence. The obligation, if only a moral one, is real enough. There is no question of charity. Use your influence with her." Brooks shook his head. "I have great confidence in Miss Scott's own judgment," he said. "I prefer not to interfere." Arranmore sat quite still for a moment. Then he rose slowly to his feet. "I am sorry to have troubled you," he said. "The world seems to have grown more quixotic since I knew it better. I am almost afraid to ask you whether my last letter has yet received the favour of your consideration." Brooks flushed a little at the biting sarcasm in Arranmore's tone, but he restrained himself. "I have considered--the matter fully," he said; "and I have talked it over with Mr. Ascough. There seems to be no reason why I should refuse the income to which I seem to be entitled." Lord Arranmore nodded and lit a cigarette. "I am thankful," he said, dryly, "for so much common-sense. Mr. Ascough will put you in possession of a banking account at any moment. Should you consider it--well--intrusive on my part if I were to inquire as to your plans?" Brooks hesitated. "They are as yet not wholly formed," he said, "but I am thinking of studying social politics for some time here in London with the intention of entering public life." "A very laudable ambition," Lord Arranmore answered. "If I can be of any assistance to you, I trust that you will not fail to let me know." "I thank you," Brooks answered. "I shall not require any assistance from you." Lord Arranmore winced perceptibly. Brooks, who would not have believed him capable of such a thing, for a moment doubted his eyes. "I am much obliged for your candour," Lord Arranmore said, coldly, and with complete self-recovery. "Don't trouble to come to the door. Good-evening." Brooks was alone. He sat down in one of the big easy-chairs, and for a moment forgot that empty stall next to Selina. He had seen the first sign of weakness in a man whom he had judged to be wholly and entirely heartless. _ |
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