Part 121 (2/2)

”Yes; about you and the place you hold. I had asked Sir ---- [pointing to a fellow minister] whether I might not, with propriety, request your chief to leave some note of his opinion of your talents, which I know is high, and which might serve you with his successor.”

”Oh, sir, at such a time to think of me!” exclaimed Randal, and he was genuinely touched.

”But,” resumed Audley, with his usual dryness, ”Sir ----, to my surprise, thinks that it would better become you that you should resign.

Unless his reasons, which he has not yet stated, are very strong, such would not be my advice.”

”My reasons,” said Sir ----, with official formality, ”are simply these: I have a nephew in a similar situation; he will resign, as a matter of course. Every one in the public offices whose relations and near connections hold high appointments in the Government will do so. I do not think Mr. Leslie will like to feel himself a solitary exception.”

”Mr. Leslie is no relation of mine,--not even a near connection,”

answered Egerton.

”But his name is so a.s.sociated with your own: he has resided so long in your house, is so well known in society (and don't think I compliment when I add, that we hope so well of him), that I can't think it worth his while to keep this paltry place, which incapacitates him too from a seat in parliament.”

Sir ---- was one of those terribly rich men, to whom all considerations of mere bread and cheese are paltry. But I must add that he supposed Egerton to be still wealthier than himself, and sure to provide handsomely for Randal, whom Sir ---- rather liked than not; and for Randal's own sake, Sir ---- thought it would lower him in the estimation of Egerton himself, despite that gentleman's advocacy, if he did not follow the example of his avowed and notorious patron.

”You see, Leslie,” said Egerton, checking Randal's meditated reply, ”that nothing can be said against your honour if you stay where you are; it is a mere question of expediency; I will judge that for you; keep your place.”

Unhappily the other member of the Government, who had hitherto been silent, was a literary man. Unhappily, while this talk had proceeded, he had placed his hand upon Randal Leslie's celebrated pamphlet, which lay on the library table; and, turning over the leaves, the whole spirit and matter of that masterly composition in defence of the administration (a composition steeped in all the essence of party) recurred to his too faithful recollection. He, too, liked Randal; he did more,--he admired the author of that striking and effective pamphlet. And therefore, rousing himself from the sublime indifference he had before felt for the fate of a subaltern, he said, with a bland and complimentary smile, ”No; the writer of this most able publication is no ordinary placeman. His opinions here are too vigorously stated; this fine irony on the very person who in all probability will be the chief in his office has excited too lively an attention to allow him the sedet eternumque sedebit on an official stool. Ha, ha! this is so good! Read it, L'Estrange. What say you?” Harley glanced over the page pointed out to him. The original was in one of Burley's broad, coa.r.s.e, but telling burlesques, strained fine through Randal's more polished satire. It was capital. Harley smiled, and lifted his eyes to Randal. The unlucky plagiarist's face was flushed,--the beads stood on his brow. Harley was a good hater; he loved too warmly not to err on the opposite side; but he was one of those men who forget hate when its object is distressed and humbled. He put down the pamphlet and said, ”I am no politician; but Egerton is so well known to be fastidious and over-scrupulous in all points of official etiquette, that Mr. Leslie cannot follow a safer counsellor.”

”Read that yourself, Egerton,” said Sir ----; and he pushed the pamphlet to Audley.

Now Egerton had a dim recollection that that pamphlet was unlucky; but he had skimmed over its contents hastily, and at that moment had forgotten all about it. He took up the too famous work with a reluctant hand, but he read attentively the pa.s.sages pointed out to him, and then said gravely and sadly,

”Mr. Leslie, I retract my advice. I believe Sir ---- is right,--that the n.o.bleman here so keenly satirized will be the chief in your office. I doubt whether he will not compel your dismissal; at all events, he could scarcely be expected to promote your advancement. Under the circ.u.mstances, I fear you have no option as a--” Egerton paused a moment, and, with a sigh that seemed to settle the question, concluded with--”as a gentleman.”

Never did Jack Cade, never did Wat Tyler, feel a more deadly hate to that word ”gentleman” than the well-born Leslie felt then; but he bowed his head, and answered with his usual presence of mind,

”You utter my own sentiment.”

”You think we are right, Harley?” asked Egerton, with an irresolution that surprised all present.

”I think,” answered Harley, with a compa.s.sion for Randal that was almost over-generous, and yet with an equivoque on the words, despite the compa.s.sion,--”I think whoever has served Audley Egerton never yet has been a loser by it; and if Mr. Leslie wrote this pamphlet, he must have well served Audley Egerton. If he undergoes the penalty, we may safely trust to Egerton for the compensation.”

”My compensation has long since been made,” answered Randal, with grace; ”and that Mr. Egerton could thus have cared for my fortunes, at an hour so occupied, is a thought of pride which--”

”Enough, Leslie! enough!” interrupted Egerton, rising and pressing his protege's hand. ”See me before you go to bed.”

Then the two other ministers rose also and shook hands with Leslie, and told him he had done the right thing, and that they hoped soon to see him in parliament; and hinted, smilingly, that the next administration did not promise to be very long-lived; and one asked him to dinner, and the other to spend a week at his country-seat. And amidst these congratulations at the stroke that left him penniless, the distinguished pamphleteer left the room. How he cursed big John Burley!

CHAPTER XVII.

It was past midnight when Audley Egerton summoned Randal. The statesman was then alone, seated before his great desk, with its manifold compartments, and engaged on the task of transferring various papers and letters, some to the waste-basket, some to the flames, some to two great iron chests with patent locks, that stood, open-mouthed, at his feet.

Strong, stern, and grim looked those iron chests, silently receiving the relics of power departed; strong, stern, and grim as the grave. Audley lifted his eyes at Randal's entrance, signed to him to take a chair, continued his task for a few moments, and then turning round, as if by an effort he plucked himself from his master-pa.s.sion,--Public Life, he said, with deliberate tones,

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