Part 65 (1/2)

She looked into his eyes without a tremor, but with a pain at the back of hers that made him flinch.

”Yes, I care,” she said very quietly.

”Ah!”

Suddenly he sat down, and buried his face in his arms on the table.

Every good, honest trait he possessed called to him to throw ”Mammon”

to the winds, and make her happy. Let the party take care of itself.

It was not for his n.o.bility of character they had taken him into the Cabinet. Let his creditors do their worst - a strong man could win through anything. But the mood did not last. There was not enough room in that india-rubber heart for it to expand and grow. It died for want of breathing-s.p.a.ce.

”If you care, why can't you have the courage to come to me?” he asked a little fiercely.

”Because I have the courage to stay away.”

And he knew - hardened sinner that he was - that she named the greater courage.

But his goaded feelings called to him, and drove him, making him mad with the knowledge he must lose her.

”Heroics!...” he said - ”heroics!... Don't talk like a bread-and-b.u.t.ter miss, Hal. It is unthinkable of you.”

He got up from his chair and took a step towards her, but stood irresolute - daunted by the calm strength in her face.

”The world is too old for heroics any more. Every one laughs at them.

Where is the politician to-day who cares tuppence for anything but the main chance? We blazon our way into office, and we blazon louder still to keep there. It is the spirit of the age. The strong man takes what he wants, and holds it by right of his strength. In primeval times we used fists and clubs. Now we hit with brains and words or hard cash.

That is all the difference. The strong man is still the one who takes what he wants, and keeps it. And I want you, Hal. It is mere feebleness - childishness - to be thwarted by convention and circ.u.mstance. Hoodwink convention, and stamp on circ.u.mstance. Go through stone walls with a battering-ram. As long as the world doesn't know - who cares? Those are my sentiments. They have been for years.

When I want a thing, I go for it bald-headed, and take it.”

He drew nearer boldly, refusing to be daunted, putting all his strength and determination against hers.

”And I want you, Hal. Do you understand? Don't be a little fool.

Come.”

She backed away from him towards the door.

”I understand well enough,” she said quietly, ”and I shall never see you again if I can help it. All that you say does not appeal to me in the least. I am not a politician - thank G.o.d - and I am still old-fas.h.i.+oned enough to possess an ideal. I am going now. Good-bye.”

But when he saw she was already in the little hall, a wave of fierce desire seemed to catch him by the throat.

”Not yet,” he exclaimed hoa.r.s.ely: ”Not yet... I care and you care - you cannot go yet -”

But before he reached her, she had slipped through the front door, and shut it behind her, and run down the stairs out into the street.

CHAPTER x.x.xVII