Part 4 (2/2)
”You can't do it, and there's an end of it,” said Mrs Neverbend.
”You and all your laws will never be able to put an end to poor Mr Crasweller,--and it would be a great shame if you did. You don't see it; but the feeling here in the city is becoming very strong. The people won't have it; and I must say that it is only rational that Jack should be on the same side. He is a man now, and has a right to his own opinion as well as another.”
”Jack,” said I, with much solemnity, ”do you value your father's blessing?”
”Well; sir, yes,” said he. ”A blessing, I suppose, means something of an allowance paid quarterly.”
I turned away my face that he might not see the smile which I felt was involuntarily creeping across it. ”Sir,” said I, ”a father's blessing has much more than a pecuniary value. It includes that kind of relation between a parent and his son without which life would be a burden to me, and, I should think, very grievous to you also.”
”Of course I hope that you and I may always be on good terms.”
I was obliged to take this admission for what it was worth. ”If you wish to remain on good terms with me,” said I, ”you must not oppose me in public when I am acting as a public magistrate.”
”Is he to see Mr Crasweller murdered before his very eyes, and to say nothing about it?” said Mrs Neverbend.
Of all terms in the language there was none so offensive to me as that odious word when used in reference to the ceremony which I had intended to be so gracious and alluring. ”Sarah,” said I, turning upon her in my anger, ”that is a very improper word, and one which you should not tempt the boy to use, especially in my presence.”
”English is English, Mr President,” she said. She always called me ”Mr President” when she intended to oppose me.
”You might as well say that a man was murdered when he is--is--killed in battle.” I had been about to say ”executed,” but I stopped myself.
Men are not executed in Britannula.
”No. He is fighting his country's battle and dies gloriously.”
”He has his leg shot off, or his arm, and is too frequently left to perish miserably on the ground. Here every comfort will be provided for him, so that he may depart from this world without a pang, when, in the course of years, he shall have lived beyond the period at which he can work and be useful.”
”But look at Mr Crasweller, father. Who is more useful than he is?”
Nothing had been more unlucky to me as the promoter of the Fixed Period than the peculiar healthiness and general sanity of him who was by chance to be our first martyr. It might have been possible to make Jack understand that a rule which had been found to be applicable to the world at large was not fitted for some peculiar individual, but it was quite impossible to bring this home to the mind of Mrs Neverbend. I must, I felt, choose some other opportunity for expounding that side of the argument. I would at the present moment take a leaf out of my wife's book and go straight to my purpose. ”I tell you what it is, young man,” said I; ”I do not intend to be thwarted by you in carrying on the great reform to which I have devoted my life. If you cannot hold your tongue at the present moment, and abstain from making public addresses in the market-place, you shall go out of Britannula. It is well that you should travel and see something of the world before you commence the trade of public orator. Now I think of it, the Alpine Club from Sydney are to be in New Zealand this summer, and it will suit you very well to go and climb up Mount Earnshawe and see all the beauties of nature instead of talking nonsense here in Gladstonopolis.”
”Oh, father, I should like nothing better,” cried Jack, enthusiastically.
”Nonsense,” said Mrs Neverbend; ”are you going to send the poor boy to break his neck among the glaciers? Don't you remember that d.i.c.k Ardwinkle was lost there a year or two ago, and came to his death in a most frightful manner?”
”That was before I was born,” said Jack, ”or at any rate very shortly afterwards. And they hadn't then invented the new patent steel climbing arms. Since they came up, no one has ever been lost among the glaciers.”
”You had better prepare then to go,” said I, thinking that the idea of getting rid of Jack in this manner was very happy.
”But, father,” said he, ”of course I can't stir a step till after the great cricket-match.”
”You must give up cricket for this time. So good an opportunity for visiting the New Zealand mountains may never come again.”
”Give up the match!” he exclaimed. ”Why, the English sixteen are coming here on purpose to play us, and swear that they'll beat us by means of the new catapult. But I know that our steam-bowler will beat their catapult hollow. At any rate I cannot stir from here till after the match is over. I've got to arrange everything myself. Besides, they do count something on my spring-batting. I should be regarded as absolutely a traitor to my country if I were to leave Britannula while this is going on. The young Marquis of Marylebone, their leader, is to stay at our house; and the vessel bringing them will be due here about eleven o'clock next Wednesday.”
”Eleven o'clock next Wednesday,” said I, in surprise. I had not as yet heard of this match, nor of the coming of our aristocratic visitor.
”They won't be above thirty minutes late at the outside. They left the Land's End three weeks ago last Tuesday at two, and London at half-past ten. We have had three or four water telegrams from them since they started, and they hadn't then lost ten minutes on the journey. Of course I must be at home to receive the Marquis of Marylebone.”
All this set me thinking about many things. It was true that at such a moment I could not use my parental authority to send Jack out of the island. To such an extent had the childish amus.e.m.e.nts of youth been carried, as to give to them all the importance of politics and social science. What I had heard about this cricket-match had gone in at one ear and come out at the other; but now that it was brought home to me, I was aware that all my authority would not serve to banish Jack till it was over. Not only would he not obey me, but he would be supported in his disobedience by even the elders of the community. But perhaps the worst feature of it all was the arrival just now at Gladstonopolis of a crowd of educated Englishmen. When I say educated I mean prejudiced. They would be Englishmen with no ideas beyond those current in the last century, and would be altogether deaf to the wisdom of the Fixed Period. I saw at a glance that I must wait till they should have taken their departure, and postpone all further discussion on the subject as far as might be possible till Gladstonopolis should have been left to her natural quiescence after the disturbance of the cricket. ”Very well,” said I, leaving the room. ”Then it may come to pa.s.s that you will never be able to visit the wonderful glories of Mount Earnshawe.”
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