Part 39 (1/2)

”What gentleman?”

”The old gentleman.”

Then Phineas knew that Mr. Clarkson was in his sitting-room, and that he would not leave it till he had seen the owner of the room.

Nay,--Phineas was pretty sure that Mr. Clarkson would come into the bedroom, if he were kept long waiting. ”d.a.m.n the old gentleman,” said Phineas in his wrath;--and the maid-servant heard him say so.

In about twenty minutes he went out into the sitting-room, with his slippers on and in his dressing-gown. Suffering under the circ.u.mstances of such an emergency, how is any man to go through the work of dressing and was.h.i.+ng with proper exactness? As to the prayers which he said on that morning, I think that no question should be asked. He came out with a black cloud on his brow, and with his mind half made up to kick Mr. Clarkson out of the room. Mr. Clarkson, when he saw him, moved his chin round within his white cravat, as was a custom with him, and put his thumb and forefinger on his lips, and then shook his head.

”Very bad, Mr. Finn; very bad indeed; very bad, ain't it?”

”You coming here in this way at all times in the day is very bad,”

said Phineas.

”And where would you have me go? Would you like to see me down in the lobby of the House?”

”To tell you the truth, Mr. Clarkson, I don't want to see you anywhere.”

”Ah; yes; I daresay! And that's what you call honest, being a Parliament gent! You had my money, and then you tell me you don't want to see me any more!”

”I have not had your money,” said Phineas.

”But let me tell you,” continued Mr. Clarkson, ”that I want to see you;--and shall go on seeing you till the money is paid.”

”I've not had any of your money,” said Phineas.

Mr. Clarkson again twitched his chin about on the top of his cravat and smiled. ”Mr. Finn,” said he, showing the bill, ”is that your name?”

”Yes, it is.”

”Then I want my money.”

”I have no money to give you.”

”Do be punctual now. Why ain't you punctual? I'd do anything for you if you were punctual. I would indeed.” Mr. Clarkson, as he said this, sat down in the chair which had been placed for our hero's breakfast, and cutting a slice off the loaf, began to b.u.t.ter it with great composure.

”Mr. Clarkson,” said Phineas, ”I cannot ask you to breakfast here. I am engaged.”

”I'll just take a bit of bread and b.u.t.ter all the same,” said Clarkson. ”Where do you get your b.u.t.ter? Now I could tell you a woman who'd give it you cheaper and a deal better than this. This is all lard. Shall I send her to you?”

”No,” said Phineas. There was no tea ready, and therefore Mr.

Clarkson emptied the milk into a cup and drank it. ”After this,” said Phineas, ”I must beg, Mr. Clarkson, that you will never come to my room any more. I shall not be at home to you.”

”The lobby of the House is the same thing to me,” said Mr. Clarkson.

”They know me there well. I wish you'd be punctual, and then we'd be the best of friends.” After that Mr. Clarkson, having finished his bread and b.u.t.ter, took his leave.

CHAPTER XXVIII

The Second Reading Is Carried

The debate on the bill was prolonged during the whole of that week.

Lord Brentford, who loved his seat in the Cabinet and the glory of being a Minister, better even than he loved his borough, had taken a gloomy estimate when he spoke of twenty-seven defaulters, and of the bill as certainly lost. Men who were better able than he to make estimates,--the Bonteens and Fitzgibbons on each side of the House, and above all, the Ratlers and Robys, produced lists from day to day which varied now by three names in one direction, then by two in another, and which fluctuated at last by units only. They all concurred in declaring that it would be a very near division. A great effort was made to close the debate on the Friday, but it failed, and the full tide of speech was carried on till the following Monday. On that morning Phineas heard Mr. Ratler declare at the club that, as far as his judgment went, the division at that moment was a fair subject for a bet. ”There are two men doubtful in the House,” said Ratler, ”and if one votes on one side and one on the other, or if neither votes at all, it will be a tie.” Mr. Roby, however, the whip on the other side, was quite sure that one at least of these gentlemen would go into his lobby, and that the other would not go into Mr. Ratler's lobby. I am inclined to think that the town was generally inclined to put more confidence in the accuracy of Mr. Roby than in that of Mr. Ratler; and among betting men there certainly was a point given by those who backed the Conservatives. The odds, however, were lost, for on the division the numbers in the two lobbies were equal, and the Speaker gave his casting vote in favour of the Government. The bill was read a second time, and was lost, as a matter of course, in reference to any subsequent action. Mr. Roby declared that even Mr. Mildmay could not go on with nothing but the Speaker's vote to support him. Mr. Mildmay had no doubt felt that he could not go on with his bill from the moment in which Mr. Turnbull had declared his opposition; but he could not with propriety withdraw it in deference to Mr. Turnbull's opinion.

During the week Phineas had had his hands sufficiently full. Twice he had gone to the potted peas inquiry; but he had been at the office of the _People's Banner_ more often than that. Bunce had been very resolute in his determination to bring an action against the police for false imprisonment, even though he spent every s.h.i.+lling of his savings in doing so. And when his wife, in the presence of Phineas, begged that bygones might be bygones, reminding him that spilt milk could not be recovered, he called her a mean-spirited woman. Then Mrs. Bunce wept a flood of tears, and told her favourite lodger that for her all comfort in this world was over. ”Drat the reformers, I say. And I wish there was no Parliament; so I do. What's the use of all the voting, when it means nothing but dry bread and cross words?”