If our story had a hero--which it has not--that hero would be Mr.
Davenport Dunn himself, and we might, consequently, feel certain
compunctious scruples as to the length of time that has elapsed since we
last saw him. When we parted, however, we took care to remind our reader
that we left him in good company, and surely such a fact ought to allay
all apprehensions on his behalf.
Months have rolled over; the London season has passed; Parliament has
but a few days to run; the wearied speakers are longing to loiter along
green lanes, or be touring or water-curing it in Germany; cities are all
but deserted, and town-houses have that dusty, ill-cared-for air that
reminds one of an estate in Chancery, or a half-pay lieutenant. Why is
it, then, that Mr. Dunn's residence in Merrion Square wears a look of
unusual trimness? Fresh paint--that hypocrisy of architecture--has done
its utmost; the hall door is a marvel of mock oak, as are the columns
of spurious marble; the Venetian blinds are of an emerald green, and the
plate-glass windows mirror the parched trees in the square, and reflect
back the almost equally picturesque jaunting-cars as they drive past;
the balcony, too, throughout its whole length, is covered with rich
flowers and flowery shrubs. In a word, there is a look of preparation
that bespeaks a coming event. What can it be?
Various rumors are afloat as to the reason of these changes, some
averring that Mr. Dunn is about to take a high official position, and be
raised to a distinguished rank; others opine that he is about to retire
from the cares of a business life, and marry. What may he not be? Whom
may he not aspire to? Surely the world has gone well with this roan.
What a great general is to an army in the field,--what a great leader to
a party in the “House,” was he to every industrial enterprise. His name
was a guarantee for all that was accurate in discipline and perfect in
organization. The Board over which he presided as Chairman was sure to
meet with regularity and act with energy. The officials who served under
him, even to the very humblest, seemed to typify the wise principles by
which he had himself been guided in life. They appeared as though imbued
with the same patient industry; the same untiring application, the same
grave demeanor marked them. “I served under Mr. Davenport Dunn,” “Mr.
Dunn knows me,” “Mr. Dunn will speak for me,” were characters that had
the force of a diploma, since they vouched not alone for capacity, but
for conduct.
It is a very high eminence to attain when a man's integrity and ability
throw such a light about him that they illumine not alone the path he
treads in life, but shine brightly on those who follow his track, making
an atmosphere in which all around participate. To this height had Dunn
arrived, and he stood the confessed representative of those virtues
Englishmen like to honor, and that character they boast to believe
national,--the man of successful industry. The fewer the adventitious
advantages he derived from fortune, the greater and more worthy did he
appear. He was no aristocrat, propped and bolstered by grand relatives.
He had no Most Noble or Right Honorable connections to push him. He was
not even gifted with those qualities that win popular favor,--he had
none of those graces of easy cordiality that others possess,--he was
not insinuating in address, nor ready of speech. They who described him
called him an awkward, bashful man, always struggling against his own
ignorance of society, and only sustained by a proud consciousness that
whispered the “sterling stuff that was inside,”--qualities which appeal
to large audiences, and are intelligible to the many. Ay, there was
indeed his grand secret. Genius wounds deeply, talent and ability offend
widely, but the man of mere commonplace faculties, using common gifts
with common opportunities, trading rather upon negative than positive
properties, succeeding because he is not this, that, and t' other,
plodding along the causeway of life steadily and unobtrusively, seen
by all, patched and noticed in every successive stage of his upward
progress, so that each may say, “I remember him a barefooted boy,
running errands in the street,--a poor clerk at forty pounds a year,--I
knew him when he lived in such an alley, up so many pair of stairs!”
Strange enough, the world likes all this; there is a smack of
self-gratulation in it that seems to say, “If I liked it, I could have
done as well as he.” Success in life won, these men rise into another
atmosphere, and acquire another appreciation. They are then used to
point the moral of that pleasant fallacy we are all so fond of repeating
to each other, when we assert, amongst the blessings of our glorious
Constitution, that there is no dignity too great, no station too high,
for the Englishman who combines industry and integrity with zeal and
perseverance. Shame on us, that we dare to call fallacy that which
great Lord Chancellors and Chief Justices have verified from their own
confessions; nay, we have even heard a Lord Mayor declare that he was,
once upon a time, like that “poor” publican! The moral of it all is that
with regard to the Davenport Dunns of this world, we pity them in their
first struggles, we are proud of them in their last successes, and we
are about as much right in the one sentiment as in the other.
The world--the great wide world of man--is marvellously identical with
the small ingredient of humanity of whose aggregate it consists. It has
its moods of generosity, distrust, liberality, narrowness, candor, and
suspicion,--its fevers of noble impulse, and its cold fits of petty
meanness,--its high moments of self-devotion, and its dark hours of
persecution and hate. Men are judged differently in different ages,
just as in every-day life we hear a different opinion from the same
individual, when crossed by the cares of the morning and seated in all
the voluptuous repose of an after-dinner _abandonnement_.
Now it chanced that Mr. Dunn's lot in life had thrown him into a
fortunate conjuncture of the world's temper. The prosperity of a long
peace had impressed us with an exaggerated estimate of all the arts that
amass wealth; riches became less the reward than the test of ability;
success and merit had grown to be convertible terms; clever speakers
and eloquent writers assured us that wars pertained only to ages of
barbarism,--that a higher civilization would repudiate them,--that
men, now bent upon a high and noble philanthropy, would alone strive to
diffuse the benefits of abundance and refinement amongst their fellows,
and that we were about to witness an elysian age of plenty, order,
and happiness. The same men who stigmatized the glory of war as the
hypocrisy of carnage, invented another hypocrisy infinitely meaner and
more ignoble, and placed upon the high altars of our worship the golden
image of Gain.
As the incarnation of this passion Davenport Dunn stood out before the
world; nor was there a tribute of its flattery that was not laid at his
feet. Even they who had neither wish nor necessity to benefit by his
peculiar influence did not withhold their homage, but joined in the
general acclamation that pronounced him the great man of our time; and
at his Sunday dinners were met the most distinguished in rank,--all
that the country boasted of great in station, illustrious by services or
capacity. His splendid house in Piccadilly--rented for the season for a
fabulous sum--was beset all the morning by visitors, somewhat unlike,
it must be owned, the class who frequented his Dublin levees. Here they
were not deputations or bank directors, railway chairmen or drainage
commissioners; they were all that fashion claims as her own,--proud
duchesses of princely fortune, great countesses high in courtly favor,
noble ladies whose smile of recognition was a firman to the highest
places. They met there, by one of those curious compacts the grand
world occasionally makes with itself, to do something, in a sort of half
imitation of that inferior race of mortals who live and marry and die
in the spheres beneath them. In fact, Dunn's house was a sort of bourse,
where shares were trafficked in, and securities bought and sold, with
an eagerness none the less that the fingers that held them wore gloves
fastened with rubies and emeralds.
In those gorgeous drawing-rooms, filled with objects of high art,
statues stolen from the Vatican, gems obtained by Heaven knows what
stratagems from Italian or Spanish convents, none deigned to notice
by even a passing look the treasures that surrounded them. In vain the
heavenly beauty of Raphael beamed from the walls,--in vain the seductive
glances of Greuze in all their languishing voluptuousness,--in vain the
haughty nobility of Van Dyck claimed the homage of a passing look. All
were eagerly bent upon lists of stocks and shares, and no words were
heard save such as told of rise or fall,--the alternations of that
chance which makes or mars humanity.
It was while in the midst of that distinguished company Mr. Dunn
received the telegram we have mentioned in our last chapter as
despatched by Mr. Hankes. His was a nature long inured to the ups and
downs of fortune; his great self-teaching had been principally directed
to the very point of how best to meet emergencies; and yet, as he read
over these brief lines, for a moment his courage seemed to have deserted
him.
“Chimbarago Artesian Well and Water Company,” lisped out a very pale,
sickly-looking Countess. “Shares are rising, Mr. Dunn; may I venture
upon them?”
“Here's the Marquesas Harbor of Refuge scheme going to smash, Dunn!”
whispered an old gentleman, with a double eye-glass, his hand trembling
as it held the share-list. “Eh, what do you say to that?”
“Glengariff 's going steadily up,--steadily up,” muttered Lord
Glengariff, in Dunn's ear. Then, struck by the sudden pallor of his
face, he added, “Are you ill?--are you faint?”
“A mere nothing,” said Dunn, carelessly. “By the way, what hour is
it? Near one, and I have an appointment with the Chancellor of the
Exchequer. Yes, Lady Massingberd, perfectly safe; not a splendid
investment, but quite sure. Cagliari Cobalts are first-rate, Sir George;
take all you can get of them. The Dalmatian line _is_ guaranteed 'by
the Austrian Government, my Lord. I saw the Ambassador yesterday. Pray
excuse a hasty leave-taking.”
His carriage was quickly ordered, but before he set out he despatched a
short telegraphic message to Hankes. It ran thus: “Detain her; suffer no
letters from her to reach the post.” This being duly sent off, he drove
to Downing Street. That dingy old temple of intrigue was well known to
him. His familiar steps had mounted that gloomy old stair some scores of
times; but now, for the first--the very first time in his life, instead
of being at once ushered into the presence of the Minister, he was asked
to “wait for a few moments.” What a shock did the intimation give him!
Was the news already abroad,--had the fell tidings escaped? A second's
consideration showed this was impossible; and yet what meant this
reserve?
“Is the Council sitting, Mr. Bagwell?” asked he, of a very well-dressed
young gentleman, with a glass fixed in his eye, who acted as Private
Secretary to the Minister.
“No; they're chatting, I fancy,” lisped out the other. “The Council was
up half an hour ago.”
“Have you mentioned my name, sir?” asked Dunn, with a formidable
emphasis on the pronoun.
“Yes,” said he, arranging his hair before the glass; “I sent in your
card.”
“Well, and the answer?”
“There was no answer, which, I take it, means 'wait,'” replied he, in
the same light and graceful tone of voice.
Dunn took his hat hastily from the table; and with a stern stare,
intended to mean “I shall remember your face again,” said,--
“You may inform Lord Jedburg that I came by appointment; that I was here
punctually at one o'clock; that I waited full fifteen minutes; that--”
What more Mr. Dunn was about to say was cut short by the opening
of a-door, and the issuing forth of some five or six gentlemen, all
laughing and talking together.
“How d'ye do, Mr. Dunn?” “How d'ye do, Dunn?” “How are you, Dunn?” said
some three or four, familiarly, as they passed through the room. And ere
he could acknowledge the salutations, Lord Jedburg himself appeared at
the door, and made a sign for him to enter. Never before had Davenport
Dunn crossed those precincts with so nervous a heart. If his reason
assured him that there was no cause of fear, his instincts and his
conscience spoke a different language. He bent one quick penetrating
glance on the Minister ere he sat down, as though to read there what he
might of the future; but there was nothing to awaken anxiety or distrust
in that face. His Lordship was far advanced in life, his hair more white
than gray, his brow wrinkled and deep-furrowed; and yet, if, instead of
the cares of a mighty empire, his concern had been the passing events of
a life of society and country habits, nothing could have more suited the
easy expression, the graceful smile, and the pleasant _bonhomie_ of that
countenance. Resuming the cigar he had been smoking as Dunn came in, he
lounged back indolently in his deep chair, and said,--
“What can I do for you at the Isle of Wight, Dunn? I fancy we shall have
a trip to Osborne to-morrow morning.”
“Indeed, my Lord?” asked he, anxiously; “are you going out?”
“So they say,” replied the other, carelessly. “Do you smoke? You 'll
find those Cubans very mild. So they say, Dunn. Monksley assures us that
we shall be in a minority to-night of fifteen or sixteen. Drake thinks
five-and-twenty.”
“From your Lordship's easy mode of taking it, I conclude that there is
either a remedy for the disaster, or that--”
“It is no disaster at all,” chimed in his Lordship, gayly. “Well, the
Carlton Club are evidently of that mind, and some of the evening papers
too.”
“I perceive, my Lord,” said Dunn, with a peculiar smile, “the misfortune
_is_ not irremediable.”
“You are right, Dunn,” said the other, promptly. “We have decided to
accept a defeat, which, as our adversaries have never anticipated, will
find them perfectly unprepared how to profit by it They will beat us,
but, when called upon to form a Government, will be utterly unable.
The rest is easy enough: a new Parliament, and ourselves stronger than
ever.”
“A very clever countryman of mine once told me, my Lord, that he made
a ruinous coach-line turn out a most lucrative speculation by simply
running an opposition and breaking it; so true are the world in their
attachment to success.”
A hearty laugh from the Minister acknowledged the parallel, and he added
carelessly,--
“Sir George Bosely has a story of a fellow who once established a run
on his own bank just to get up his credit. A hit above even you, Master
Dunn,--eh?”
If Dunn laughed, it was with a face of deepest crimson, though he saw,
the while, his secret was safe. Indeed, the honest frankness of his
Lordship's laugh guaranteed that all was well.
“The fellow ought to have been a Cabinet Minister, Dunn. He had the true
governing element in him, which is a strong sense of human gullibility.”
“A little more is needed, my Lord,--how to turn that flame tendency to
profit.”
“Of course,--of course. By the way, Dunn, though not _apropos_,” said
he, laughingly, “what of the great Glengariff scheme? Is it prospering?”
“The shares stand at one hundred and seventy-seven and an eighth, my
Lord,” said Dunn, calmly. “I can only wish your Lordship's party as
favorable a fortune.”
“Well, we are rather below par just now,” said the Minister, laughing,
while he busied himself to select another cigar from the heap before
him.
“It was just about that very enterprise I came to speak to your Lordship
this morning,” said Dunn, drawing his chair closer. “I need not tell you
how far the assurance of Government support has aided our success. The
report of the Parliamentary Committee as to the Harbor of Refuge, the
almost certain promise of her Majesty's marine residence, the flattering
reception your Lordship gave to the deputation in the matter of the
American packet-station, have all done us good and efficient service.
But we want more, my Lord,--we want more!”
“The deuce you do! Why, my good friend, these marks of our preference
for your scheme have cost us some hundred angry addresses and
recriminations from all parts of the kingdom, where, we are told, there
is more picturesque scenery, more salubrious air, deeper water, and
better anchorage. If you built a villa for every member of the Cabinet,
and settled it on us in freehold there, it would not repay us for all we
have suffered in your cause.”
“We should be both proud and happy to accommodate your Lordship's
colleagues on Jedburg Crescent,” said Dunn, bowing with a well-assumed
seriousness.
“But what do you want us to do?” said his Lordship, peevishly; for he
had the dislike great men generally feel to have their joke capped. It
is for them to be smart, if they please, but not for the Mr. Davenport
Dunns of this world to take up the clew of the facetiousness.
Mr. Dunn seemed somewhat posed by the abrupt directness of this
question. Lord Jedburg went on:--
“You surely never supposed that we could send you material assistance.
You are far too conversant with the working of our institutions to
expect such. These things are possible in France, but they won't do
here. No, Dunn; perfectly impossible here.”
“And yet, my Lord, it is precisely in France that they ought to be
impossible. Ministers in that country have no responsibility except
towards their sovereign. If they become suddenly enriched, one sees at
once how they have abused the confidence of their master.”
“I'll not enter upon that question,” said his Lordship, smartly. “Tell
me, rather, something about Ireland; how shall we fare there in a
general election?”
“With proper exertions you may be able to hold your own,” was the dry
rejoinder.
“Not more? Not any more than this?”
“Certainly not, my Lord, nor do I see how you could expect it. What you
are in the habit of calling concessions to Irish interests have been
little other than apologies for the blunders of your colleagues. You
remove some burden imposed by yourselves, or express sorrow for some
piece of legislation your own hands have inflicted--”
“Come, come, Mr. Dunn, the only course of lectures I attend are
delivered in the House of Commons; besides, I have no time for these
things.” There was a tone of prompt decision in the way he uttered this
that satisfied Dunn he had gone fully as far as was safe. “Now as to
Ireland, we shall look for at least sixty, or perhaps seventy, sure
votes. Come, where's your list, Dunn? Out with it, man! We are rather
rich in patronage just now. We can make a Bishop, a Puisne Judge, three
Assistant Barristers, a Poor Law Commissioner, not to say that there are
some fifty smaller things in the Revenue. Which will you have?”
“All, my Lord,” said Dunn, coolly,--“all, and some colonial appointments
besides, for such of our friends as find living at home inexpedient.”
His Lordship lay back in his chair, and laughed pleasantly. “There's
Jamaica just vacant; would that suit you?”
“The Governorship? The very thing I want, and for a very old supporter
of your Lordship's party.”
“Who is he?”
“The Earl of Glengariff, my Lord, a nobleman who has never received the
slightest acknowledgment for a political adherence of fifty-odd years.”
“Why, the man must be in second childhood. If I remember aright, he
was--”
“He is exactly four years your Lordship's senior; he says you fagged for
him his last half at Eton.”
“Pooh, pooh! he mistakes; it was of my father he was thinking. But to
the point: what can he do for us?”
“I was alluding to what he had done, my Lord,” said Dunn, pointedly.
“Ah, Dunn, we are not rich enough for gratitude. That is the last luxury
of a 'millionnaire;' besides, you are aware how many claimants there
will be for so good a thing as this.”
“Which of them all, my Lord, can promise you ten votes in the Houses?”
“Well, is the bargain finished? Is all paid?”
“Not yet, my Lord; not yet You are averse to affording us any support to
the Glengariff scheme, and, for the present, I will not hamper you with
the consideration; you can, however, serve us in another way. Glumthal
is very anxious about the Jew Bill; he wishes, Heaven knows why, to see
his brother in the House. May I promise him that the next session will
see it law? Let me just have your Lordship's word to that effect, so
that I may telegraph to him when I leave this.”
His Lordship shook his head dubiously, and said, “You forget that I have
colleagues, Dunn.”
“I remember it well, my Lord, and I only asked for your own individual
pledge. The fact is, my Lord, the Jews throughout the world
have attached an immense importance to this question; and if
Glumthal--confidentially, of course--be made the depositary of
the secret, it will raise him vastly in the estimation of his
co-religionists.”
“Let us see if the thing can be done. Is it practicable, and how?” “Oh,
as to that, my Lord, modern legislation is carried on pretty much like a
mercantile concern; you advertise your want, and it is supplied at once.
Ask the newspapers. 'How are we to admit the Jews?' and you 'll get your
answer as regularly as though it were a question of sport addressed to
'Bell's Life.'”
“Candor being the order of the day, what does Mr. Davenport Dunn want
for himself?”
“I am coming to him, my Lord, but not just yet.”
“Why, really, Dunn, except that we turn Colonel Blood in your behalf,
and steal the crown for you, I don't see what more we can do.”
“It is a mere trifle in point of patronage, my Lord, though, in my
ignorance of such matters, it may be, possibly, not without difficulty,”
said Dunn; and, for the first time, his manner betrayed a sign of
embarrassment “The Earl of Glengariff has an only unmarried daughter,
a lady of great personal attractions, and remarkably gifted in point
of ability; one of those persons, in short, on whom Nature has set the
stamp of high birth, and fitted to be the ornament of a Court.”
“But we are all married in the Cabinet. Even the Treasury Lords have got
wives,” said Lord Jedburg, laughing, and enjoying the discomfiture of
Dunn's face even more than his own jest.
“I am aware of it, my Lord,” replied Dunn, with inflexible gravity; “my
ambitious hopes did not aspire so highly. What I was about to entreat
was your Lordship's assistance to have the lady I have mentioned
appointed to a situation in the household,--one of her Majesty's
ladies--”
“Impossible! perfectly impossible, Dunn!” said the Minister, flinging
away his cigar in impatient anger; “really, you seem to have neither
measure nor moderation in your demands. Such an interference on my part,
if I were mad enough to attempt it, would meet a prompt rebuke.”
“If your Lordship's patience had permitted me to finish, you would have
heard that what I proposed was nothing beyond the barren honor of a
'Gazette.' On the day week that her Ladyship's name had so appeared she
would be married.”
“It does not alter the matter in the least. It is not in my province to
make such a recommendation, and I refuse it flatly.”
“I am sorry for it, my Lord. Your Lordship's refusal may inflict
great evils upon the country,--the rule of an incompetent and ungenial
Government,--the accession to power of men the most unscrupulous and
reckless.”. “Cannot you see, sir,” said the Minister, sharply, “that I
am in a position to comprehend what my office admits of, and where its
limits are laid? I have told you that these appointments are not in our
hands.”
“Sir Robert Peel did not say so, my Lord; he insisted--actually
insisted--on his right to surround the throne with political partisans.”
“The Cabinet is not an Equity Court, to be ruled by precedents; and I
tell you once more, Dunn, I should fail if I attempted it.”
“The Viscountess might obtain this favor,” said Dunn, with an obdurate
persistence that was not to be resisted; “and even if unsuccessful, it
would inflict no rebuff on your Lordship. Indeed, it would come more
gracefully as a proposition from her Ladyship, who could also mention
Lady Augusta's approaching marriage.”
“I almost think I might leave you to finish the discussion with my
wife,” said his Lordship, laughing; “I half suspect it would be the best
penalty on your temerity. Are you engaged for Sunday?--well, then, dine
with us. And now, that bill being adjourned,” said he, with a weary
sigh, “what next?”
“I am now coming to myself,--to my own case, my Lord,” said Dunn, with
the very slightest tremor in his voice. “Need I say that I wish it were
in the hands of any other advocacy? I am so far fortunate, however,
that I address one fully conversant with my claims on his party.
For five-and-twenty years I have been the careful guardian of their
interests in a country where, except in mere name, they never possessed
any real popularity. Your Lordship smiles a dissent; may I enter upon
the question?”
“Heaven forbid!” broke in the Minister, smiling good-humoredly.
“Well, my Lord, were I to reduce my services to a mere monetary
estimate, and furnish you with a bill of costs, for what a goodly sum
should I stand in the estimates. I have mainly sustained the charge of
seven county elections, hardly contested. I have paid the entire charges
on twenty-two borough contests. I have subsidized the provincial press
in your favor at a cost of several thousand pounds out of my own pocket
I have compromised three grave actions about to be brought against the
Government. Of the vast sums I have contributed to local charities,
schools, nunneries, societies of various denominations, all in the
interest of your party, I take no account I have spent in these and
like objects a princely fortune, and yet these hundreds of thousands of
pounds are as nothing--mere nothing to the actual personal services I
have rendered to your party. In the great revolution effected by the
sale of encumbered estates, I have so watchfully guarded your interests
that I have replaced the old rampant Toryism of the land by a gentry
at once manageable and practicable,--men intent less upon party than
personal objects, consequently available to the Minister, always
accessible by an offer of direct advantage. I have, with all this, so
thrown a Whig light over the rising prosperity of the country, that
it might seem the result of your wise rule that stimulated men to the
higher civilization they have attained to, and that a more forbearing
charity and a more liberal spirit went hand in hand with improved
agriculture and higher farming. To identify a party with the great
march of this prosperity, to make of your policy a cause of these noble
results, was the grand conception which, for a quarter of a century, I
have carried out. When Mr. O'Connell kept your predecessors in power,
his price was the bit-by-bit surrender of what in your hearts you
believed to be bulwarks of the constitution. In return for my support
what have I got? Some patronage--be it so--for my own dependants
and followers, no doubt! Show me one man of my name, one man of my
convictions, holding place under the Crown. No, my Lord, my power to
serve your party was based on this sure foundation, that I was open to
no imputation; I was the distributor of your patronage to the men best
worthy to receive it,--no more.”
“Four o'clock, Dunn; time's up,” said his Lordship. “I must go down to
the House.”
“I am sorry to have detained your Lordship with so ungracious a theme.”
“Well, I do think you might have spared me some of it I know well my
colleagues all know your invaluable services,--an admirable member
of the party, active and able, but not quite neglected, either, eh,
Dunn?--not entirely left in oblivion?”
While he spoke, he busied himself in the search for a paper amidst
the heap of those before him, and could not, therefore, notice the
mortification so palpably expressed on Dunn's face.
“I can't find it,” muttered he; “I should like, however, to show you the
memorandum itself, in which your name stands recommended to her Majesty
for a baronetcy.”
Dunn's sudden start made the speaker look up; and as he turned his
eyes on him, there was no mistaking the look of determined anger on his
features.
“A baronetcy, my Lord,” said he, with a slow, thick utterance, “has
become the recognized reward of a popular writer, or a fashionable
physician, whose wives acquire a sort of Brummagem rank in calling
themselves 'My Lady;' but men like myself,--men who have sustained a
party,--men who, wielding many arms of strength, have devoted them all
to the one task of maintaining in power a certain administration,
which, whatever their gifts, assuredly did not possess the art of
conciliating--”
“Come, it is a peerage you want?” broke in his Lordship, whose manner
betrayed a temper pushed to its last limits.
“If I am to trust your Lordship's tone, the pretension would seem
scarcely credible,” said Dunn, calmly.
“I believe I can understand how it would appear to others. I can,
without great difficulty, imagine the light in which it would be
viewed.”
“As to that, my Lord, any advancement to a man like me will evoke plenty
of animadversion. I have done too-much for your party not to have made
many enemies. The same objection would apply were I to accept the paltry
acknowledgment you so graciously contemplated for me, and which I warn
you not to offer me.”
Was it the naked insolence of this speech, or was it that in uttering
it the proud pretension of the man summoned a degree of dignity to his
manner; but certainly the Minister now looked at him with a sort of
respect, he had not deigned hitherto to bestow.
“You know well, Dunn,” he began, in a tone of conciliation, “that
fitness for the elevation is only one of the requirements in such a
case. There are a mass of other considerations,--the ostensible claims;
I mean such as can be-avowed and declared openly,--of the pretending
party,--the services he has rendered to the country at large,--the
merits he can show for some great public recognition. The press,
whatever be its faults nowadays, has no defects on the score of
frankness, and we shall have the question put in twenty different
quarters, 'What brilliant campaign has Mr. Dunn concluded?' 'What
difficult negotiation carried to successful issue?' 'Where have been his
great achievements in the law courts?' To be sure, it might be said that
we honor the industrial spirit of our country in ennobling one who has
acquired a colossal fortune by his own unaided abilities; but Manchester
and Birmingham have also their 'millionnaires.'”
“Your Lordship's time is far too valuable to be passed in such
discussion; even mine might be more profitably spent than in listening
to it, My demand is now before you; in some three weeks hence it is not
impossible it may await the consideration of your Lordship's successors.
In one word, if I leave this room without your distinct pledge on the
subject, you will no longer reckon me amongst the followers of your
party.”
“Half-past four, I protest,” said Lord Jedburg, taking up his gloves. “I
shall be too late at the House. Let us conclude this to-morrow morning.
Come down here at eleven.”
“Excuse me, my Lord. I leave town to-night I am going over to Ireland.”
“Yes, you ought to be there; I forgot. Well, you must leave this affair
in my hands. I 'll speak to Croydon and Locksley about it,--both stanch
friends of yours. I can make no pledge, you know,--no actual promise--”
“Nor I either, my Lord,” said Dunn, rising. “Let me, however, ask you to
accept of my excuses for Sunday at dinner.”
“I regret much that we are not to have the pleasure of your company,”
said his Lordship, with a formal courtesy.
“These appointments,” said Dunn, laying down a list he had made on the
table, “are, of course, in your Lordship's hands.”
“I conclude so,” was the dry reply, as the Minister but-toned his coat.
“I wish your Lordship a very good morning. Good-bye, my Lord.” And the
words had their peculiar utterance.
“Good-bye, Mr. Dunn,” said the Minister, shortly, and rang for his
carriage.
Dunn had but reached the foot of the stairs, when he heard a rapid
tread behind him. “I beg pardon, Mr. Dunn,” cried Bagwell, the private
secretary; “his Lordship sent me to overtake you, and say that the
matter you are desirous about shall be done. His Lordship also hopes you
can dine with him on Sunday.”
“Oh, very well; say 'Yes, with much pleasure.' Has his Lordship gone?”
“Yes, by the private door. He was in a great hurry, and will, I fear, be
late, after all.”
“There's a good thing to be done just now in potash, Bagwell, at Pesaro.
If you have a spare hundred or two, give me a call to-morrow morning.”
And with a gesture to imply secrecy, Dunn moved away, leaving Bagwell in
a dream of gold-getting.