Tallente found a distant connection of his waiting for him in his
rooms, on his return from the House at about half-past six,--Spencer
Williams, a young man who, after a brilliant career at Oxford, had
become one of the junior secretaries to the Prime Minister. The young
man rose to his feet at Tallente's entrance and hastened to explain his
visit.
"You'll forgive my waiting, sir," he begged. "Your servant told me that
you were dining out and would be home before seven o'clock to change."
"Quite right, Spencer," Tallente replied. "Glad to see you. Whisky and
soda or cocktail?"
The young man chose a whisky and soda, and Tallente followed suit,
waving his visitor back into his chair and seating himself opposite.
"Get right into the middle of it, please," he enjoined.
"To begin with, then, can you break your engagement and come and dine
with the Chief?"
"Out of the question, even if it were a royal command," was the firm
reply. "My engagement is unbreakable."
"The Chief will be sorry," Williams said. "So am I. Will you go round
to Downing Street and see him afterwards?"
"I could," Tallente admitted, "but why? I have nothing to say to him.
I can't conceive what he could have to say to me. There are always
pressmen loitering about Downing Street, who would place the wrong
construction on my visit. You saw all the rubbish they wrote because he
and I talked together for a quarter of an hour at Mrs. Van Fosdyke's?"
"I know all about that," Williams assented, "but this time, Tallente,
there's something in it. The Chief quarrelled with you for the sake of
the old gang. Well, he made a bloomer. The old gang aren't worth
six-pence. They're rather a hindrance than help to legislation, and
when they're wanted they're wobbly, as you saw this afternoon.
Lethbridge went into the lobby with you."
Tallente smiled a little grimly.
"He took particularly good care that I should know that."
"Well, there you are," Williams went on. "The Chief's fed up. I can
talk to you here freely because I'm not an official person. Can you
discuss terms at all for a rapprochement?"
"Out of the question!"
"You mean that you are too much committed to Dartrey and the Democrats?"
"'Committed' to them is scarcely the correct way of putting it,"
Tallente objected. "Their principles are in the main my principles.
They stand for the cause I have championed all my life. Our alliance is
a natural, almost an automatic one."
"It's all very well, sir," Williams argued, "but Dartrey stands for a
Labour Party, pure and simple. You can't govern an Empire by parish
council methods."
"That is where the Democrats come in," Tallente pointed out. "They
have none of the narrower outlook of the Labour Party as you understand
it--of any of the late factions of the Labour Party, perhaps I should
say. The Democrats possess an international outlook. When they
legislate, every class will receive its proper consideration. No class
will be privileged. A man will be ranked according to his production."
Williams smiled with the faint cynicism of clairvoyant youth.
"Sounds a little Utopian, sir," he ventured. "What about Miller?"
"Well, what about him?"
"Are you going to serve with him?"
"Really," Tallente protested, "for a political opponent, or the
representative of a political opponent, you're a trifle on the
inquisitive side."
"It's a matter that you'll have to face sometime or other," the young
man asserted. "I happen to know that Dartrey is committed to Miller."
"I don't see how you can happen to know anything of the sort," Tallente
declared, a little bluntly. "In any case, Spencer, my political
association or nonassociation with Miller is entirely my own affair, and
you can hook it. Remember me to all your people, and give my love to
Muriel."
"Nothing doing, eh?" Williams observed, rising reluctantly to his feet.
"You have perception," Tallente replied.
"The Chief was afraid you might be a little difficult about an
interview. Those pressmen are an infernal nuisance, anyway. What about
sneaking into Downing Street at about midnight, in a cloak and slouch
hat, eh?"
"Too much of the cinema about you, young fellow," Tallente scoffed.
"Run along now. I have to dress."
Tallente held out his hand good-humouredly. His visitor made no
immediate motion to take it.
"There was just one thing more I was asked to mention, sir," he said.
"I will be quite frank if I may. My instructions were not to allude to
it if your attitude were in the least conciliatory."
"Go on," Tallente bade him curtly.
"There has been a rumour going about that some years ago--while the war
was on, in fact--you wrote a very wonderful attack upon the trades
unions. This attack was so bitter in tone, so damning in some of its
facts, and, in short, such a wonderful production, that at the last
moment the late Prime Minister used his influence with you to suspend
its publication. It was held over, and in the meantime the attitude of
the trades unions towards certain phases of the war was modified, and
the collapse of Germany followed soon afterwards. Consequently, that
article was never published."
"You are exceedingly well informed," Tallente admitted. "Pray proceed."
"There is in existence," the young man continued, "a signed copy of that
article. Its publication at the present moment would probably make your
position with the Democratic Party untenable."
"Is this a matter of blackmail?" Tallente asked.
The young man stiffened.
"I am speaking on behalf of the Prime Minister, sir. He desired me to
inform you that the signed copy of that article has been offered to him
within the last few days."
Tallente was silent for several moments. The young man's subtle
intimation was a shock in more ways than one.
"The manuscript to which you refer," he said at last, "was stolen from
my study at Martinhoe under somewhat peculiar conditions."
"Perhaps you would like to explain those conditions to Mr. Horlock,"
Williams suggested.
Tallente held open the door.
"I shall not seek out your Chief," he said, "but I will tell him the
truth about that manuscript if at any time we should come together. In
the meantime, I am perfectly in accord with the view which your Chief no
doubt holds concerning it. The publication of that article at the
present moment would inevitably end my connection with the Democratic
Party and probably close my political career. This is a position which
I should court rather than submit to blackmail direct or indirect."
"My Chief will resent your using such a word, sir," Williams declared.
"Your Chief could have avoided it by a judicious use of the waste-paper
basket and an exercise of the gift of silence." Tallente retorted, as
the young man took his departure.
Horlock came face to face with Tallente the following afternoon, in one
of the corridors of the House and, scarcely troubling about an
invitation, led him forcibly into his private room. He turned his
secretary out and locked the door.
"A cigar?" he suggested.
Tallente shook his head.
"I want to see what's doing, in a few minutes," he said.
"I can tell you that," Horlock declared. "Nothing at all! I was just
off when I happened to see you. You're looking very fit and pleased
with yourself. Is it because of that rotten trick you played on us the
other day?"
"Rotten? I thought it was rather clever of me," Tallente objected.
"Perfectly legitimate, I suppose," the other assented grudgingly.
"That's the worst of having a tactician in opposition."
"You shouldn't have let me get there," was the quick retort.
Horlock drew a paper knife slowly down between his fingers.
"I sent Williams to you yesterday."
"You did. A nice errand for a respectably brought-up young man!"
"Chuck that, Tallente."
"Why? I didn't misunderstand him, did I?"
"Apparently. He told me that you used the word 'blackmail.'"
"I don't think the dictionary supplies a milder equivalent."
"Tallente," said Horlock with a frown, "we'll finish with this once and
for ever. I refused the offer of the manuscript in question."
"I am glad to hear it," was the laconic reply.
"Leaving that out of the question, then, I suppose there's no chance of
your ratting?"
"Not the faintest. I rather fancy I've settled down for good."
Horlock lit a cigarette and leaned back in his chair.
"No good looking impatient, Tallente," he said. "The door's locked and
you know it. You'll have to listen to what I want to say. A few
minutes of your time aren't much to ask for."
"Go ahead," Tallente acquiesced.
"There is only one ambition," Horlock continued, "for an earnest
politician. You know what that is as well as I do. Wouldn't you sooner
be Prime Minister, supported by a recognised and reputable political
party, than try to pull the chestnuts out of the fire for your friends
Dartrey, Miller and company?"
"So this is the last bid, eh?" Tallente observed.
"It's the last bid of all," was the grave answer. "There is nothing
more."
"And what becomes of you?"
"One section of the Press will say that I have shown self-denial and
patriotism greater than any man of my generation and that my name will
be handed down to history as one of the most single-minded statesmen of
the day. Another section will say that I have been forced into a
well-deserved retirement and that it will remain a monument to my
everlasting disgrace that I brought my party to such straits that it was
obliged to compromise with the representative of an untried and unproven
conglomeration of fanatics. A third section--"
"Oh, chuck it!" Tallente interrupted. "Horlock, I appreciate your offer
because I know that there is a large amount of self-denial in it, but I
am glad of an opportunity to end all these discussions. My word is
passed to Dartrey."
"And Miller?" the Prime Minister asked, with calm irony.
Tallente felt the sting and frowned irritably.
"I have had no discussions of any sort with Miller," he answered. "He
has never been represented to me as holding an official position in the
party."
"If you ever succeed in forming a Democratic Government," Horlock said,
"mark my words, you will have to include him."
"If ever I accept any one's offer to form a Government," Tallente
replied, "it will be on one condition and one condition only, which is
that I choose my own Ministers."
"If you become the head of the Democratic Party," Horlock pointed out,
"you will have to take over their pledges."
"I do not agree with you," was the firm reply, "and further, I suggest
most respectfully that this discussion is not agreeable to me."
An expression of hopelessness crept into Horlock's face.
"You're a good fellow, Tallente," he sighed, "and I made a big mistake
when I let you go. I did it to please the moderates and you know how
they've turned out. There isn't one of them worth a row of pins. If
any one ever writes my political biography, they will probably decide
that the parting with you was the greatest of my blunders."
He rose to his feet, swinging the key upon his finger.
"One more word, Tallente," he added. "I want to warn you that so far as
your further progress is concerned, there is a snake in the grass
somewhere. The manuscript of which Williams spoke to you, and which
would of course damn you forever with any party which depended for its
existence even indirectly upon the trades unions, was offered to me,
without any hint at financial return, on the sole condition that I
guaranteed its public production. It is perfectly obvious, therefore,
that there is some one stirring who means harm. I speak to you now only
as a friend and as a well-wisher. Did I understand Williams to say that
the document was stolen from your study at Martinhoe?"
"It was stolen," Tallente replied, "by my secretary, Anthony Palliser,
who disappeared with it one night in August."
"'Disappeared' seems rather a vague term," Horlock remarked.
"A trifle melodramatic, I admit," Tallente assented. "So were the
circumstances of his--disappearance. I can assure you that I have had
the police inspector of fiction asking me curious questions and I am
convinced that down in Devonshire I am still an object of suspicion to
the local gossips."
"I remember reading about the affair at the time," Horlock remarked, as
he unlocked the door. "It never occurred to me, though, to connect it
with anything of this sort. Surely Palliser was a cut above the
ordinary blackmailer?"
Tallente shrugged his shoulders. "A confusion of ethics," he said. "I
dare say you remember that the young man conspired with my wife to boost
me into a peerage behind my back However!--"
"One last word, Tallente," Horlock interrupted. "I am not at liberty to
tell you from what source the offer as to your article came, but I can
tell you this--Palliser was not or did not appear to be connected with
it in any way."
"But I know who was," Tallente exclaimed, with a sudden lightning-like
recollection of that meeting on the railway platform at Woody
Bay.--"Miller!"
Horlock made no answer. To his visitor, however, the whole affair was
now clear.
"Miller must have bought the manuscript from Palliser," he said, "when
he knew what sort of an offer Dartrey was going to make to me and
realised how it would affect him. Horlock, I am not sure, after all,
that I don't rather envy you if you decide to drop out of politics. The
main road is well enough, but the by-ways are pretty filthy."
Horlock remained gravely silent and Tallente passed out of the room,
realising that he had finally severed his connection with orthodox
English politics. The realisation, however, was rather more of a relief
than otherwise. For fifteen years he had been cumbered with precedent
in helping to govern by compromise. Now he was for the clean sweep or
nothing. He strolled into the House and back into his own committee
room, read through the orders of the day and spoke to the Government
Whip. It was, as Horlock had assured him, a dead afternoon. There were
a sheaf of questions being asked, none of which were of the slightest
interest to any one. With a little smile of anticipation upon his lips,
he hurried to the telephone. In a few moments he was speaking to Annie,
Lady Jane's maid.
"Will you give her ladyship a message?" he asked. "Tell her that I am
unexpectedly free for an hour or so, and ask if I may come around and
see her?" The maid was absent from the telephone for less than a minute.
When she returned, her message was brief but satisfactory. Her ladyship
would be exceedingly pleased to see Mr. Tallente.