Mr. Slide's Revenge
"Do you mean to say, my lady, that the Duke paid his electioneering
bill down at Silverbridge?"
"I do mean to say so, Mr. Slide." Lady Eustace nodded her head, and
Mr. Quintus Slide opened his mouth.
"Goodness gracious!" said Mrs. Leslie, who was sitting with them.
They were in Lady Eustace's drawing-room, and the patriotic editor of
the "People's Banner" was obtaining from a new ally information which
might be useful to the country.
"But 'ow do you know, Lady Eustace? You'll pardon the persistency of
my inquiries, but when you come to public information accuracy is
everything. I never trust myself to mere report. I always travel up
to the very fountain 'ead of truth."
"I know it," said Lizzy Eustace oracularly.
"Um--m!" The Editor as he ejaculated the sound looked at her ladyship
with admiring eyes,--with eyes that were intended to flatter. But
Lizzie had been looked at so often in so many ways, and was so well
accustomed to admiration, that this had no effect on her at all. "'E
didn't tell you himself; did 'e, now?"
"Can you tell me the truth as to trusting him with my money?"
"Yes, I can."
"Shall I be safe if I take the papers which he calls bills of sale?"
"One good turn deserves another, my lady."
"I don't want to make a secret of it, Mr. Slide. Pountney found it
out. You know the Major?"
"Yes, I know Major Pountney. He was at Gatherum 'imself, and got a
little bit of cold shoulder;--didn't he?"
"I dare say he did. What has that to do with it? You may be sure that
Lopez applied to the Duke for his expenses at Silverbridge, and that
the Duke sent him the money."
"There's no doubt about it, Mr. Slide," said Mrs. Leslie. "We got it
all from Major Pountney. There was some bet between him and Pountney,
and he had to show Pountney the cheque."
"Pountney saw the money," said Lady Eustace.
Mr. Slide stroked his hand over his mouth and chin as he sat thinking
of the tremendous national importance of this communication. The man
who had paid the money was the Prime Minister of England,--and was,
moreover, Mr. Slide's enemy! "When the right 'and of fellowship has
been rejected, I never forgive," Mr. Slide has been heard to say.
Even Lady Eustace, who was not particular as to the appearance of
people, remarked afterwards to her friend that Mr. Slide had looked
like the devil as he was stroking his face. "It's very remarkable,"
said Mr. Slide; "very remarkable!"
"You won't tell the Major that we told you," said her Ladyship.
"Oh dear, no. I only just wanted to 'ear how it was. And as to
embarking your money, my lady, with Ferdinand Lopez,--I wouldn't do
it."
"Not if I get the bills of sale? It's for rum, and they say rum will
go up to any price."
"Don't, Lady Eustace. I can't say any more,--but don't. I never
mention names. But don't."
Then Mr. Slide went at once in search of Major Pountney, and having
found the Major at his club extracted from him all that he knew about
the Silverbridge payment. Pountney had really seen the Duke's cheque
for £500. "There was some bet,--eh, Major?" asked Mr. Slide.
"No, there wasn't. I know who has been telling you. That's Lizzie
Eustace, and just like her mischief. The way of it was this;--Lopez,
who was very angry, had boasted that he would bring the Duke down on
his marrow-bones. I was laughing at him as we sat at dinner one day
afterwards, and he took out the cheque and showed it me. There was
the Duke's own signature for £500,--'Omnium,' as plain as letters
could make it." Armed with this full information, Mr. Slide felt that
he had done all that the most punctilious devotion to accuracy could
demand of him, and immediately shut himself up in his cage at the
"People's Banner" office and went to work.
This occurred about the first week in January. The Duke was then
at Matching with his wife and a very small party. The singular
arrangement which had been effected by the Duchess in the early
autumn had passed off without any wonderful effects. It had been done
by her in pique, and the result had been apparently so absurd that it
had at first frightened her. But in the end it answered very well.
The Duke took great pleasure in Lady Rosina's company, and enjoyed
the comparative solitude which enabled him to work all day without
interruption. His wife protested that it was just what she liked,
though it must be feared that she soon became weary of it. To Lady
Rosina it was of course a Paradise on earth. In September, Phineas
Finn and his wife came to them, and in October there were other
relaxations and other business. The Prime Minister and his wife
visited their Sovereign, and he made some very useful speeches
through the country on his old favourite subject of decimal coinage.
At Christmas, for a fortnight, they went to Gatherum Castle and
entertained the neighbourhood,--the nobility and squirearchy dining
there on one day, and the tenants and other farmers on another. All
this went very smoothly, and the Duke did not become outrageously
unhappy because the "People's Banner" made sundry severe remarks on
the absence of Cabinet Councils through the autumn.
After Christmas they returned to Matching, and had some of their old
friends with them. There was the Duke of St. Bungay and the Duchess,
and Phineas Finn and his wife, and Lord and Lady Cantrip, Barrington
Erle, and one or two others. But at this period there came a great
trouble. One morning as the Duke sat in his own room after breakfast
he read an article in the "People's Banner," of which the following
sentences were a part. "We wish to know by whom were paid the
expenses incurred by Mr. Ferdinand Lopez during the late contest
at Silverbridge. It may be that they were paid by that gentleman
himself,--in which case we shall have nothing further to say, not
caring at the present moment to inquire whether those expenses were
or were not excessive. It may be that they were paid by subscription
among his political friends,--and if so, again we shall be satisfied.
Or it is possible that funds were supplied by a new political club of
which we have lately heard much, and with the action of such a body
we of course have nothing to do. If an assurance can be given to
us by Mr. Lopez or his friends that such was the case we shall be
satisfied.
"But a report has reached us, and we may say more than a report,
which makes it our duty to ask this question. Were those expenses
paid out of the private pocket of the present Prime Minister? If
so, we maintain that we have discovered a blot in that nobleman's
character which it is our duty to the public to expose. We will go
farther and say that if it be so,--if these expenses were paid out
of the private pocket of the Duke of Omnium, it is not fit that that
nobleman should any longer hold the high office which he now fills.
"We know that a peer should not interfere in elections for the House
of Commons. We certainly know that a Minister of the Crown should not
attempt to purchase parliamentary support. We happen to know also the
almost more than public manner,--are we not justified in saying the
ostentation?--with which at the last election the Duke repudiated
all that influence with the borough which his predecessors, and we
believe he himself, had so long exercised. He came forward telling us
that he, at least, meant to have clean hands;--that he would not do
as his forefathers had done;--that he would not even do as he himself
had done in former years. What are we to think of the Duke of Omnium
as a Minister of this country, if, after such assurances, he has out
of his own pocket paid the electioneering expenses of a candidate at
Silverbridge?" There was much more in the article, but the passages
quoted will suffice to give the reader a sufficient idea of the
accusation made, and which the Duke read in the retirement of his own
chamber.
He read it twice before he allowed himself to think of the matter.
The statement made was at any rate true to the letter. He had paid
the man's electioneering expenses. That he had done so from the
purest motives he knew and the reader knows;--but he could not even
explain those motives without exposing his wife. Since the cheque was
sent he had never spoken of the occurrence to any human being,--but
he had thought of it very often. At the time his private Secretary,
with much hesitation, almost with trepidation, had counselled him not
to send the money. The Duke was a man with whom it was very easy to
work, whose courtesy to all dependent on him was almost exaggerated,
who never found fault, and was anxious as far as possible to do
everything for himself. The comfort of those around him was always
matter of interest to him. Everything he held, he held as it were in
trust for the enjoyment of others. But he was a man whom it was very
difficult to advise. He did not like advice. He was so thin-skinned
that any counsel offered to him took the form of criticism. When
cautioned what shoes he should wear,--as had been done by Lady
Rosina, or what wine or what horses he should buy, as was done by his
butler and coachman, he was thankful, taking no pride to himself for
knowledge as to shoes, wine, or horses. But as to his own conduct,
private or public, as to any question of politics, as to his opinions
and resolutions, he was jealous of interference. Mr. Warburton
therefore had almost trembled when asking the Duke whether he was
quite sure about sending the money to Lopez. "Quite sure," the Duke
had answered, having at that time made up his mind. Mr. Warburton had
not dared to express a further doubt, and the money had been sent.
But from the moment of sending it doubts had repeated themselves in
the Prime Minister's mind.
Now he sat with the newspaper in his hand thinking of it. Of course
it was open to him to take no notice of the matter,--to go on as
though he had not seen the article, and to let the thing die if it
would die. But he knew Mr. Quintus Slide and his paper well enough to
be sure that it would not die. The charge would be repeated in the
"People's Banner" till it was copied into other papers; and then the
further question would be asked,--why had the Prime Minister allowed
such an accusation to remain unanswered? But if he did notice it,
what notice should he take of it? It was true. And surely he had a
right to do what he liked with his own money so long as he disobeyed
no law. He had bribed no one. He had spent his money with no corrupt
purpose. His sense of honour had taught him to think that the man had
received injury through his wife's imprudence, and that he therefore
was responsible as far as the pecuniary loss was concerned. He was
not ashamed of the thing he had done;--but yet he was ashamed that it
should be discussed in public.
Why had he allowed himself to be put into a position in which he was
subject to such grievous annoyance? Since he had held his office he
had not had a happy day, nor,--so he told himself,--had he received
from it any slightest gratification, nor could he buoy himself up
with the idea that he was doing good service for his country. After
a while he walked into the next room and showed the paper to Mr.
Warburton. "Perhaps you were right," he said, "when you told me not
to send that money."
"It will matter nothing," said the private Secretary when he had read
it,--thinking, however, that it might matter much, but wishing to
spare the Duke.
"I was obliged to repay the man as the Duchess had--had encouraged
him. The Duchess had not quite--quite understood my wishes." Mr.
Warburton knew the whole history now, having discussed it all with
the Duchess more than once.
"I think your Grace should take no notice of the article."
No notice was taken of it, but three days afterwards there appeared a
short paragraph in large type,--beginning with a question. "Does the
Duke of Omnium intend to answer the question asked by us last Friday?
Is it true that he paid the expenses of Mr. Lopez when that gentleman
stood for Silverbridge? The Duke may be assured that the question
shall be repeated till it is answered." This the Duke also saw and
took to his private Secretary.
"I would do nothing at any rate till it be noticed in some other
paper," said the private Secretary. "The 'People's Banner' is known
to be scandalous."
"Of course it is scandalous. And, moreover, I know the motives and
the malice of the wretched man who is the editor. But the paper is
read, and the foul charge if repeated will become known, and the
allegation made is true. I did pay the man's election expenses;--and,
moreover, to tell the truth openly as I do not scruple to do to you,
I am not prepared to state publicly the reason why I did so. And
nothing but that reason could justify me."
"Then I think your Grace should state it."
"I cannot do so."
"The Duke of St. Bungay is here. Would it not be well to tell the
whole affair to him?"
"I will think of it. I do not know why I should have troubled you."
"Oh, my lord!"
"Except that there is always some comfort in speaking even of one's
trouble. I will think about it. In the meantime you need perhaps not
mention it again."
"Who? I? Oh, certainly not."
"I did not mean to others,--but to myself. I will turn it in my mind
and speak of it when I have decided anything." And he did think about
it,--thinking of it so much that he could hardly get the matter out
of his mind day or night. To his wife he did not allude to it at
all. Why trouble her with it? She had caused the evil, and he had
cautioned her as to the future. She could not help him out of the
difficulty she had created. He continued to turn the matter over
in his thoughts till he so magnified it, and built it up into such
proportions, that he again began to think that he must resign. It
was, he thought, true that a man should not remain in office as Prime
Minister who in such a matter could not clear his own conduct.
Then there was a third attack in the "People's Banner," and after
that the matter was noticed in the "Evening Pulpit." This notice
the Duke of St. Bungay saw and mentioned to Mr. Warburton. "Has the
Duke spoken to you of some allegations made in the press as to the
expenses of the late election at Silverbridge?" The old Duke was
at this time, and had been for some months, in a state of nervous
anxiety about his friend. He had almost admitted to himself that he
had been wrong in recommending a politician so weakly organised to
take the office of Prime Minister. He had expected the man to be
more manly,--had perhaps expected him to be less conscientiously
scrupulous. But now, as the thing had been done, it must be
maintained. Who else was there to take the office? Mr. Gresham
would not. To keep Mr. Daubeny out was the very essence of the Duke
of St. Bungay's life,--the turning-point of his political creed,
the one grand duty the idea of which was always present to him.
And he had, moreover, a most true and most affectionate regard
for the man whom he now supported, appreciating the sweetness
of his character,--believing still in the Minister's patriotism,
intelligence, devotion, and honesty; though he was forced to own to
himself that the strength of a man's heart was wanting.
"Yes," said Warburton; "he did mention it."
"Does it trouble him?"
"Perhaps you had better speak to him about it." Both the old Duke and
the private Secretary were as fearful and nervous about the Prime
Minister as a mother is for a weakly child. They could hardly tell
their opinions to each other, but they understood one another, and
between them they coddled their Prime Minister. They were specially
nervous as to what might be done by the Prime Minister's wife,
nervous as to what was done by every one who came in contact with
him. It had been once suggested by the private Secretary that Lady
Rosina should be sent for, as she had a soothing effect upon the
Prime Minister's spirit.
"Has it irritated him?" asked the Duke.
"Well;--yes, it has;--a little, you know. I think your Grace had
better speak to him;--and not perhaps mention my name." The Duke of
St. Bungay nodded his head, and said that he would speak to the great
man and would not mention any one's name.
And he did speak. "Has any one said anything to you about it?" asked
the Prime Minister.
"I saw it in the 'Evening Pulpit' myself. I have not heard it
mentioned anywhere."
"I did pay the man's expenses."
"You did!"
"Yes,--when the election was over, and, as far as I can remember,
some time after it was over. He wrote to me saying that he had
incurred such and such expenses, and asking me to repay him. I sent
him a cheque for the amount."
"But why?"
"I was bound in honour to do it."
"But why?"
There was a short pause before this second question was answered.
"The man had been induced to stand by representations made to him
from my house. He had been, I fear, promised certain support which
certainly was not given him when the time came."
"You had not promised it?"
"No;--not I."
"Was it the Duchess?"
"Upon the whole, my friend, I think I would rather not discuss it
further, even with you. It is right that you should know that I did
pay the money,--and also why I paid it. It may also be necessary that
we should consider whether there may be any further probable result
from my doing so. But the money has been paid, by me myself,--and was
paid for the reason I have stated."
"A question might be asked in the House."
"If so, it must be answered as I have answered you. I certainly shall
not shirk any responsibility that may be attached to me."
"You would not like Warburton to write a line to the newspaper?"
"What;--to the 'People's Banner!'"
"It began there, did it? No, not to the 'People's Banner,' but to the
'Evening Pulpit.' He could say, you know, that the money was paid
by you, and that the payment had been made because your agents had
misapprehended your instructions."
"It would not be true," said the Prime Minister, slowly.
"As far as I can understand that was what occurred," said the other
Duke.
"My instructions were not misapprehended. They were disobeyed. I
think that perhaps we had better say no more about it."
"Do not think that I wish to press you," said the old man, tenderly;
"but I fear that something ought to be done;--I mean for your own
comfort."
"My comfort!" said the Prime Minister. "That has vanished long
ago;--and my peace of mind, and my happiness."
"There has been nothing done which cannot be explained with perfect
truth. There has been no impropriety."
"I do not know."
"The money was paid simply from an over-nice sense of honour."
"It cannot be explained. I cannot explain it even to you, and how
then can I do it to all the gaping fools of the country who are ready
to trample upon a man simply because he is in some way conspicuous
among them?"
After that the old Duke again spoke to Mr. Warburton, but Mr.
Warburton was very loyal to his chief. "Could one do anything by
speaking to the Duchess?" said the old Duke.
"I think not."
"I suppose it was her Grace who did it all."
"I cannot say. My own impression is that he had better wait till the
Houses meet, and then, if any question is asked, let it be answered.
He himself would do it in the House of Lords, or Mr. Finn or
Barrington Erle, in our House. It would surely be enough to explain
that his Grace had been made to believe that the man had received
encouragement at Silverbridge from his own agents, which he himself
had not intended should be given, and that therefore he had thought
it right to pay the money. After such an explanation what more could
any one say?"
"You might do it yourself."
"I never speak."
"But in such a case as that you might do so; and then there would be
no necessity for him to talk to another person on the matter."
So the affair was left for the present, though the allusions to it
in the "People's Banner" were still continued. Nor did any other of
the Prime Minister's colleagues dare to speak to him on the subject.
Barrington Erle and Phineas Finn talked of it among themselves, but
they did not mention it even to the Duchess. She would have gone to
her husband at once; and they were too careful of him to risk such a
proceeding. It certainly was the case that among them they coddled
the Prime Minister.