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A People's Man, a novel by E. Phillips Oppenheim |
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Chapter 36 |
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_ CHAPTER XXXVI Selingman had scarcely left the place when Ernshaw arrived, piloted into the room by Aaron, who had been waiting for him below. Maraton and he gripped hands heartily. During the first few days of the campaign they had been constant companions. "At least," he declared, as he looked into Maraton's face, "whatever the world may think of the justice of their cause, no one will ever any longer deny the might of the people." "None but fools ever did deny it," Maraton answered. "How are they in the north?" Ernshaw asked. "United and confident," Maraton assured him. "Up there I don't think they realise the position so much as here. In Nottingham and Leicester, people are leading their usual daily lives. It was only as we neared London that one began to understand." "London is paralysed with fear," Ernshaw asserted, "perhaps with reason. The Government are working the telephones and telegraph to a very small extent. The army engineers are doing the best they can with the East Coast railways." "What about Dale and his friends?" Ernshaw's dark, sallow face was lit with triumph. "They are flustered to death like a lot of rabbits in the middle of a cornfield, with the reapers at work'!" he exclaimed. "Heckled and terrified to' death! Cecil was at them the other night. 'Are you not,' he cried, 'the representatives of the people?' Wilmott was in the House--one of us--treasurer for the Amalgamated Society, and while Dale was hesitating, he sprang up. 'Before God, no!' he answered. 'There isn't a Labour Member in this House who stands for more than the constituency he represents, or is here for more than the salary he draws. The cause of the people is in safer hands.' Then they called for you. There have been questions about your whereabouts every day. They wanted to impeach you for high treason. Through all the storm, Foley is the only man who has kept quiet. He sent for me. I referred him to you." "The time for conferences is past," Maraton said firmly. "We know it," Ernshaw replied. "What's the good of them? A sop for the men, a pat on the back for their leaders, a buttering Press, and a public who cares only how much or how little they are inconvenienced. We have had enough of that. My men must wake into a new life, or sleep for ever." "What is the foreign news?" Maraton asked. "All uncertain. The air is full of rumours. Several Atlantic liners are late, and reports have come by wireless of a number of strange cruisers off Queenstown. Personally, I don't think that anything definite has been done. The moment to strike isn't yet. The Admiralty have been working like slaves to get coal to their fleet." "You came alone?" Maraton enquired. Ernshaw nodded. "I came alone because the seven of us are as men with one heart. We are with you into hell!" "And the men," Maraton continued,--"I wonder how many of them realise what they may have to go through." "You stirred something up in them," Ernshaw said slowly, "something they have never felt before. You made them feel that they have the right of nature to live a dignified life, and to enjoy a certain share of the profits of their labour, not as a grudgingly given wage but as a law-established right. There's a feeling born in them that's new--it's done them good already. I never heard so little grumbling at the pay. I think it's in their heart that they're fighting for a principle this time, and not for an extra coin dragged from the unwilling pockets of men who have no human right to be the janitors of what their labour produces. They've got the proper feeling at last, sir. You've touched something which is as near the religious sense as anything a man can feel who has no call that way. It's something that will last, too! Their womenkind have laid hold of it. When they start life again, they mean to start on a different plane." "How are the accounts lasting out?" Maraton asked. Ernshaw produced some books from his pocket and they sat down at the table. "We're not so badly off for money," he declared. "It's the purchasing power of it that's making things difficult. I have spread the people out as much as I can. It's the best chance, but next week will be a black one." They pored over the figures for a time. Outside, the streets were almost as silent as death. Suddenly the door was thrown open, and they both looked up hastily. Selingman stood there, but Selingman transformed. All the colour seemed to have left his cheeks; his eyes were burning with a steely fire. He closed the door behind him and he shivered where he stood. Maraton sprang to his feet. "What, in God's name, has happened, man?" he cried. "Quick!" Selingman came a little further into the room. He raised his hands above his head; his voice was thick with horror. "I have betrayed you!" he moaned. "I have betrayed the people!" He stood there, still trembling. Maraton poured him out wine, but he swept it away. "No more of those things for me!" he continued. "Listen to my tale. If there is a God, may he hear me! By every line I have written, by every world of fancy into which I have been led, by every particle of what nations have called my genius, I swear that I speak the truth!" "I believe you," Maraton said. "Go on. Tell me quickly." "I trusted Maxendorf," Selingman proceeded, his voice shaking, "trusted and loved him as a brother. I have been his tool and his dupe!" Maraton felt himself suddenly at the edge of the world. He leaned over and looked into the abyss called hell. For a moment he shivered; then he set his teeth. "Go on," he repeated. "Maxendorf and I have spoken many times of the future of this country. The dream which he outlined for you, he has spoken of to me with glittering eyes, with heaving chest, with trembling voice. It was his scheme that I should take you to him. You, too, believed as I did. To-night I visited him. I stepped in upon the one weak moment of his life. He needed a confidant. He was bursting with joy and triumph. He showed me his heart; he showed me the great and terrible hatred which burns there for England and everything English. The people's man, he calls himself! He is for the people of his own country and his own country only! You and I have been the tools of his crafty schemes. This country, if he possesses it, he will occupy as a conqueror. He will set his heel upon it. He will demand the greatest indemnity of all times. And every penny of it will flow into his beloved land. We thought that the dawn had come, we poor, miserable and deluded victims of his craft. We are dooming the people of this country to generations of slavery!" Maraton for a moment sat quite still. When he spoke, his tone was singularly matter-of-fact. "Where is Maxendorf?" he asked. "Still at the hotel. The Embassy was not ready, and he has made excuses. He is more his own master there." Maraton turned to Ernshaw. "Ernshaw," he begged, "wait here for me. Wait." He took up his hat and left the room. Selingman stood almost as though he were praying. "Now," he muttered, "is the time for the strong man!" _ |
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