Volume Ii Part 6 (2/2)

'Penitent or not, I vowed I would call him to account.'

'My good sir,' said the Baronet, 'how was I to know that the lady was in any danger? I was not even in England at the time. I felt she would soon forget me, as indeed she seems to have done,' added the speaker sarcastically. 'Now I come to think of it,' he continued, 'I think it is I, indeed, who have reason to complain. You see with what scorn she treated me as she came into the room.'

'Surely, Sir Watkin cannot wonder at that.'

'On the contrary, I think it rather hard, after the money I spent on her.'

'That won't do, Sir Watkin! You, and such as you, are a disgrace to your cla.s.s; cruel as wild beasts you spend your lives in pursuit of victims whom you ruin with fair words and foul lies and for foul ends. A time must come when England will no longer tolerate such men in her midst.

English women will come to the rescue of their tempted sisters. Society will demand that wealth should not thus be iniquitously squandered in pursuit of vice and selfish gratifications. There is no greater crime a rich man can commit, and yet there is no punishment can reach him. The rich man can always get off, or take himself off. He leaves the seduced to perish of want and infamy, while he is honoured and admired.'

'Upon my word, Mr. Wentworth, you are using language which I am quite unaccustomed to.'

'I dare say you are, Sir Watkin; but it is the language of truth and soberness, nevertheless.'

'Why, one would fancy you were a parson, and availing yourself of the privileges of the cloth,' said the Baronet with sneer.

'I was very near being one,' said Wentworth; 'and now I recollect that it was then you and I met for the first time. I remember you nearly ran over a poor old woman who was coming to hear me preach.'

'Upon my word you have a good memory. I'd forgotten all about it.'

'So good a memory,' said Wentworth, 'that for the future I recommend you to keep out of my way.'

'By all means,' replied the Baronet; 'but you ought to hear what I have to say in my defence. I own my conduct was shabby.'

'It was infamous.'

'But recollect what a mess I was in.'

'I will not hear another word,' said Wentworth. 'Leave this room, or-'

But there was no occasion to say what he meant to say. Putting on his hat and gathering up his gloves, the Baronet retreated as quickly as he could, looking very different to the finished and self-satisfied appearance of respectability he presented when he first knocked at the door.

'The scoundrel!' said Wentworth to himself when alone. 'He will hear from me further. I have not done with him yet. I'll meet him at Philippi. I'll take care that he does not get in for Sloville after all.'

And he kept his word.

CHAPTER XV.

ELECTIONEERING.

The writ for Sloville would be out in a few days. The defeated Liberals were winding up business in Parliament as quickly as possible, in order at once to appeal to the country. The Tadpoles and Tapers were at their wits' ends for a good cry. Wentworth rushed down to Sloville, invited the electors to hear him, advertised in the local papers, and covered the walls with his posters. He was for the extension of the Franchise to all men of age of sound mind, untainted by crime, and to all women who paid rates and taxes. He advocated the separation of Church and State, arbitration instead of war, reduction of national expenditure, a reform of the House of Lords, free trade in land, and free secular education.

He was ready even to give Ireland as much Home Rule as he would give to England or Scotland. At that time the great Liberal leader had not dreamed of anything of the kind.

'I like that,' said the Tory candidate to his agent; 'all the respectable people will vote for me.'

'Confound the fellow!' said Sir Watkin, in a rage. 'I shall have hard work to beat that, and if I did the people would never believe I meant it. I am of an old Whig family, and it is hard to give up one's principles.'

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