TO STAND, OR NOT TO STAND
Sir Gregory Hardlines had been somewhat startled by Alaric's
announcement of his parliamentary intentions. It not unnaturally
occurred to that great man that should Mr. Tudor succeed at Strathbogy,
and should he also succeed in being allowed to hold his office and seat
together, he, Tudor, would very soon become first fiddle at the Civil
Service Examination Board. This was a view of the matter which was by
no means agreeable to Sir Gregory. Not for this had he devoted his time,
his energy, and the best powers of his mind to the office of which he
was at present the chief; not for this had he taken by the hand a young
clerk, and brought him forward, and pushed him up, and seated him in
high places. To have kept Mr. Jobbles would have been better than this;
he, at any rate, would not have aspired to parliamentary honours.
And when Sir Gregory came to look into it, he hardly knew whether those
bugbears with which he had tried to frighten Tudor were good serviceable
bugbears, such as would stand the strain of such a man's logic and
reason. Was there really any reason why one of the commissioners
should not sit in Parliament? Would his doing so be subversive of the
constitution? Or would the ministers of the day object to an additional
certain vote? This last point of view was one in which it did not at all
delight Sir Gregory to look at the subject in question. He determined
that he would not speak on the matter to the Chancellor of the
Exchequer, or to any of the Government wigs who might be considered to
be bigger wigs than himself.
And Alaric thought over the matter coolly also. He looked at it till the
bugbears shrank into utter insignificance; till they became no more
than forms of shreds and patches put up to frighten birds out of
cherry-orchards.
Why should the constitution be wounded by the presence of one more
commissioner in Parliament? Why should not he do his public duty and
hold his seat at the same time, as was done by so many others? But
he would have to go out if the ministry went out. That was another
difficulty, another bugbear, more substantial perhaps than the others;
but he was prepared to meet even that. He was a poor man; his profession
was that of the Civil Service; his ambition was to sit in Parliament. He
would see whether he could not combine his poverty with his profession,
and with his ambition also. Sir Gregory resolved in his fear that
he would not speak to the Chancellor of the Exchequer on the matter;
Alaric, on the other hand, in his audacity, resolved that he would do
so.
It was thus that Sir Gregory regarded the matter. 'See all that I have
done for this man,' said he to himself; 'see how I have warmed him in
my bosom, how I have lifted him to fortune and renown, how I have heaped
benefits on his head! If gratitude in this world be possible, that man
should be grateful to me; if one man can ever have another's interest at
heart, that man should have a heartfelt anxiety as to my interest. And
yet how is it? I have placed him in the chair next to my own, and now he
is desirous of sitting above me!'
'Twas thus Sir Gregory communed with himself. But Alaric's soliloquy was
very different. A listener who could have overheard both would hardly
have thought that the same question was being discussed by the two. 'I
have got so high,' said Alaric, 'by my own labour, by my own skill and
tact; and why should I stop here? I have left my earliest colleagues far
behind me; have distanced those who were my competitors in the walk of
life; why should I not still go on and distance others also? why stop
when I am only second or third? It is very natural that Sir Gregory
should wish to keep me out of Parliament; I cannot in the least blame
him; let us all fight as best each may for himself. He does not wish a
higher career; I do. Sir Gregory will now do all that he can to impede
my views, because they are antagonistic to his own; very well; I must
only work the harder to overcome his objections.' There was no word in
all this of gratitude; there was no thought in Alaric's mind that it
behoved him to be grateful to Sir Gregory. It was for his own sake,
not for his pupil's, that Sir Gregory had brought this pupil forward.
Grateful, indeed! In public life when is there time for gratitude? Who
ever thinks of other interest than his own?
Such was Alaric's theory of life. But not the less would he have
expected gratitude from those whom he might serve. Such also very
probably was Sir Gregory's theory when he thought of those who had
helped him, instead of those whom he himself had helped.
And so they met, and discussed Alaric's little proposition.
'Since I saw you yesterday,' said Sir Gregory, 'I have been thinking
much of what you were saying to me of your wish to go into Parliament.'
'I am very much obliged to you,' said Alaric.
'I need hardly tell you, Tudor, how anxious I am to further your
advancement. I greatly value your ability and diligence, and have shown
that I am anxious to make them serviceable to the public.'
'I am fully aware that I owe you a great deal, Sir Gregory.'
'Oh, I don't mean that; that's nothing; I am not thinking of myself. I
only want you to understand that I am truly anxious to see you take that
line in public matters which may make your services most valuable to
the public, and which may redound the most to your own advantage. I have
thought of what you said to me with the most mature deliberation, and I
am persuaded that I shall best do my duty to you, and to the service,
by recommending you to abandon altogether your idea of going into
Parliament.'
Sir Gregory said this in his weightiest manner. He endeavoured to assume
some of that authority with which he had erst cowed the young Tudor at
the Weights and Measures, and as he finished his speech he assumed a
profound look which ought to have been very convincing.
But the time was gone by with Alaric when such tricks of legerdemain
were convincing to him. A grave brow, compressed lips, and fixed eyes,
had no longer much effect upon him. He had a point to gain, and he was
thinking of that, and not of Sir Gregory's grimaces.
'Then you will not see the Chancellor of the Exchequer on the subject?'
'No,' said Sir Gregory; 'it would be useless for me to do so. I could
not advocate such a scheme, feeling certain that it would be injurious
both to yourself and to the service; and I would not desire to see the
Chancellor with the view of opposing your wishes.'
'I am much obliged to you for that, at any rate,' said Alaric.
'But I do hope that you will not carry your plan any farther. When I
tell you, as I do with the utmost sincerity, that I feel certain that an
attempt to seat yourself in Parliament can only lead to the ruin of
your prospects as a Civil servant--prospects which are brighter now than
those of any other young man in the service--I cannot but think that you
must hesitate before you take any step which will, in my opinion, render
your resignation necessary.'
'I shall be sorry to resign, Sir Gregory, as I have such true pleasure
in serving with you.'
'And, I presume, a salary of £1,200 a year is not unacceptable?' said
Sir Gregory, with the very faintest of smiles.
'By no means,' said Alaric; 'I am a poor man, depending altogether on my
own exertions for an income. I cannot afford to throw away a chance.'
'Then take my word for it, you should give up all idea of Parliament,'
said Sir Gregory, who thought that he had carried his point.
'But I call a seat in Parliament a chance,' said Alaric; 'the best
chance that a man, circumstanced as I am, can possibly have. I have the
offer of a seat, Sir Gregory, and I can't afford to throw it away.'
'Then it is my duty to tell you, as the head of your office, that it
will be your duty to resign before you offer yourself as a candidate.'
'That you mean is your present opinion, Sir Gregory?'
'Yes, Mr. Tudor, that is my opinion--an opinion which I shall be forced
to express to the Chancellor of the Exchequer, if you persist in this
infatuation.'
Alaric looked very grave, but not a whit angry. 'I am sorry for it, Sir
Gregory, very sorry; I had hoped to have had your countenance.'
'I would give it you, Mr. Tudor, if I could consistently with my duty as
a public servant; but as I cannot, I am sure you will not ask for it.'
How Fidus Neverbend would have admired the chief commissioner could he
have seen and heard him at this moment! 'But,' he continued, relaxing
for a while the muscles of his face, 'I hope, I do hope, you will think
better of this. What are you to gain? Come, Tudor, think of it that way.
What are you to gain? You, with a wife and young family coming up about
your heels, what are you to gain by going into Parliament? That is
what I ask you. What are you to gain?' It was delightful to see how
pleasantly practical Sir Gregory could become when he chose to dismount
from his high horse.
'It is considered a high position in this country, that of a member of
Parliament,' said Alaric. 'A man in gaining that is generally supposed
to have gained something.'
'True, quite true. It is a desirable position for a rich man, or a rich
man's eldest son, or even for a poor man, if by getting into Parliament
he can put himself in the way of improving his income. But, my dear
Tudor, you are in none of these positions. Abandon the idea, my dear
Tudor--pray abandon it. If not for your own sake, at any rate do so for
that of your wife and child.'
Sir Gregory might as well have whistled. Not a word that he said had the
slightest effect on Alaric. How was it possible that his words should
have any effect, seeing that Alaric was convinced that Sir Gregory was
pleading for his own advantage, and not for that of his listener? Alaric
did listen. He received all that Sir Gregory said with the most profound
attention; schooled his face into a look of the most polite deference;
and then, with his most cruel tone, informed Sir Gregory that his mind
was quite made up, and that he did intend to submit himself to the
electors of Strathbogy.
'And as to what you say about my seat at the board, Sir Gregory, you
may probably be right. Perhaps it will be as well that I should see the
Chancellor of the Exchequer myself.'
'"Who will to Cupar maun to Cupar,"' said Sir Gregory; 'I can only
say, Mr. Tudor, that I am very sorry for you, and very sorry for your
wife--very sorry, very sorry indeed.'
'And who will to Strathbogy maun to Strathbogy,' said Alaric, laughing;
'there is certainly an air of truth about the proverb as applied to
myself just at present. But the fact is, whether for good or for bad, I
maun to Strathbogy. That is my present destiny. The fact that I have
a wife and a child does make the step a most momentous one. But, Sir
Gregory, I should never forgive myself were I to throw away such an
opportunity.'
'Then I have nothing more to say, Mr. Tudor.'
'Of course I shall try to save my place,' continued Alaric.
'I look upon that as quite impossible,' said Sir Gregory.
'It can do me no harm at any rate to see the Chancellor of the
Exchequer. If he tells me that a seat in Parliament and a seat at
the board are incompatible, and that as one of the Civil Service
Commissioners I am not free to stand for the borough, I will in that
case, Sir Gregory, put my resignation in your hands before I publish my
address.'
And so they parted, each determined to do all that in him lay to thwart
the wishes of the other. Alaric was not in the least influenced by
anything that Sir Gregory had said to him; he had made up his mind, and
was determined to be turned from it by no arguments that his colleague
could use; but nevertheless he could not but be meditative, as, walking
home across the Parks, he thought of his wife and child. It is true that
he had a second trade; he was a stock-jobber as well as a Civil Service
Commissioner; but he already perceived how very difficult it was to
realize an income to which he could trust from that second precarious
pursuit. He had also lived in a style considerably beyond that which his
official income would have enabled him to assume. He had on the whole,
he thought, done very well; but yet it would be a dreadful thing to have
to trust to so precarious a livelihood. He had realized nothing; he had
not yet been able to pay back the money which he had so fraudulently
taken, and to acquit himself of a debt which now lay daily heavier and
heavier on his soul. He felt that he must repay not only that but Undy's
share also, before he could again pass a happy day or a quiet night.
This plan of throwing up £1,200 a year would badly assist him in getting
rid of this incubus.
But still that watchword of his goaded him on--'Excelsior!' he still
said to himself; 'Excelsior!' If he halted now, now when the ball was at
his foot, he might never have another chance. Very early in life before
a beard was on his chin, before he could style himself a man according
to the laws of his country, he had determined within himself that a seat
in Parliament was the only fitting ambition for an Englishman. That was
now within his reach. Would he be such a dastard as to draw back his
hand, and be deterred from taking it, by old women's tales of prudence,
and the self-interested lectures of Sir Gregory Hardlines?
'Excelsior!' There was not much that could be so styled in that debt of
his to M. and Madame Jaquêtanàpe. If he could only pay that off he felt
that he could brave the world without a fear. Come what come might he
would sell out and do so. The bridge committee was sitting, and his
shares were already worth more than he had paid for them. Mr. Blocks had
just given his evidence, and the commercial world was willing enough to
invest in the Limehouse bridge. He would sell out and put his conscience
at rest.
But then to do so successfully, he must induce Undy to do so too; and
that he knew would not at present be an easy task. Who had ever been
successful in getting back money from Undy Scott? He had paid the last
half-year's interest with most commendable punctuality, and was not that
a great deal from Undy Scott?
But what if this appropriation of another's money, what if this fraud
should be detected and exposed before he had succeeded in paying back
the £10,000. What if he should wake some morning and find himself in the
grip of some Newgate myrmidon? A terrible new law had just been passed
for the protection of trust property; a law in which he had not felt the
slightest interest when he had first seen in the daily newspapers some
tedious account of the passing of the various clauses, but which was now
terrible to his innermost thoughts.
His walk across the Parks was not made happy by much self-triumph. In
spite of his commissionership and coming parliamentary honours, his
solitary moments were seldom very happy. It was at his club, when living
with Undy and Undy's peers, that he was best able to throw off his
cares and enjoy himself. But even then, high as he was mounted on his
fast-trotting horse, black Care would sit behind him, ever mounted on
the same steed.
And bitterly did poor Gertrude feel the misery of these evenings which
her husband passed at his club; but she never reviled him or complained;
she never spoke of her sorrow even to her mother or sister. She did not
even blame him in her own heart. She knew that he had other business
than that of his office, higher hopes than those attached to his board;
and she taught herself to believe that his career required him to be
among public men.
He had endeavoured to induce her to associate constantly with Mrs. Val,
so that her evenings might not be passed alone; but Gertrude, after
trying Mrs. Val for a time, had quietly repudiated the closeness of this
alliance. Mrs. Val had her ideas of 'Excelsior,' her ambition to rule,
and these ideas and this ambition did not at all suit Gertrude's temper.
Not even for her husband's sake could she bring herself to be patronized
by Mrs. Val. They were still very dear friends, of course; but they did
not live in each other's arms as Alaric had intended they should do.
He returned home after his interview with Sir Gregory, and found his
wife in the drawing-room with her child. He usually went down from his
office to his club, and she was therefore the more ready to welcome him
for having broken through his habit on the present occasion.
She left her infant sprawling on the floor, and came up to greet him
with a kiss.
'Ger,'--said he, putting his arm round her and embracing her--'I have
come home to consult you on business;' and then he seated himself on the
sofa, taking her with him, and still in his arms. There was but little
doubt that she would consent to anything which he could propose to her
after such a fashion, in such a guise as this; that he knew full well.
'Well, love,' said she, 'and what is the business about? You know that I
always think that to be best which you think to be best.'
'Yes, Ger; but this is a very important matter;' and then he looked
grave, but managed at the same time to look happy and contented. 'This
is a matter of vital importance to you, and I will do nothing in it
without your consent.'
'What is best for you must be best for me,' said Gertrude, kissing his
forehead.
Then he explained to her what had passed between himself and Sir
Gregory, and what his own ideas were as regarded the borough of
Strathbogy. 'Sir Gregory,' said he, 'is determined that I shall not
remain at the board and sit in Parliament at the same time; but I do not
see why Sir Gregory is to have his own way in everything. If you are not
afraid of the risk, I will make up my mind to stand it at all events,
and to resign if the Minister makes it imperative. If, however, you
fear the result, I will let the matter drop, and tell the Scotts to find
another candidate. I am anxious to go into Parliament, I confess; but I
will never do so at the expense of your peace of mind.'
The way in which he put upon her the whole weight of the decision was
not generous. Nor was the mode he adopted of inducing her to back his
own wishes. If there were risk to her--and in truth there was fearful
risk--it was his duty to guard her from the chance, not hers to say
whether such danger should be encountered or no. The nature of her
answer may be easily surmised. She was generous, though he was not.
She would never retard his advance, or be felt as a millstone round his
neck. She encouraged him with all her enthusiasm, and bade him throw
prudence to the winds. If he rose, must she not rise also? Whatever step
in life was good for him, must it not be good for her as well? And so
that matter was settled between them--pleasantly enough.
He endured a fortnight of considerable excitement, during which he and
Sir Gregory did not smile at each other, and then he saw the Chancellor
of the Exchequer. That gentleman promised to speak to the Prime
Minister, feeling himself unable to answer the question put to him,
definitely out of his own head; and then another fortnight passed on.
At the end of that time the Chancellor of the Exchequer sent for Alaric,
and they had a second interview.
'Well, Mr. Tudor,' said the great man, 'this is a matter of very
considerable importance, and one on which I am not even yet prepared to
give you a positive answer.'
This was very good news for Alaric. Sir Gregory had spoken of the matter
as one on which there could be no possible doubt. He had asserted that
the British lion would no longer sleep peaceably in his lair, if such
a violence were put on the constitution as that meditated by the young
commissioner. It was quite clear that the Chancellor of the Exchequer,
and the Prime Minister also, looked at it in a very different light.
They doubted, and Alaric was well aware that their doubt was as good as
certainty to him.
The truth was that the Prime Minister had said to the Chancellor of the
Exchequer, in a half-serious, half-jocular way, that he didn't see why
he should reject a vote when offered to him by a member of the Civil
Service. The man must of course do his work--and should it be found that
his office work and his seat in Parliament interfered with each other,
why, he must take the consequences. And if--or--or--made a row about it
in the House and complained, why in that case also Mr. Tudor must take
the consequences. And then, enough having been said on that matter, the
conversation dropped.
'I am not prepared to give a positive answer,' said the Chancellor of
the Exchequer, who of course did not choose to commit himself.
Alaric assured the great man that he was not so unreasonable as to
expect a positive answer. Positive answers, as he well knew, were not
often forthcoming among official men; official men, as he had already
learnt, prefer to do their business by answers which are not positive.
He himself had become adverse to positive answers since he had become
a commissioner, and was quite prepared to dispense with them in the
parliamentary career which he hoped that he was now about to commence.
This much, however, was quite clear, that he might offer himself as a
candidate to the electors of Strathbogy without resigning; and that Sir
Gregory's hostile remonstrance on the subject, should he choose to make
one, would not be received as absolute law by the greater powers.
Accordingly as Alaric was elated, Sir Gregory was depressed. He had
risen high, but now this young tyro whom he had fostered was about to
climb above his head. O the ingratitude of men!
Alaric, however, showed no triumph. He was more submissive, more
gracious than ever to his chief. It was only to himself that he muttered
'Excelsior!