Part 26 (1/2)
”Miss Derosne's displeasure with me,” he said, ”is fully explained, isn't it?”
”What do you mean?” she asked sharply.
For reply he pointed with his cane.
”She favours the Ministry,” he said. ”Your views are not hers, Lady Eynesford.”
”Oh, she knows nothing about politics.”
”Perhaps it isn't all politics,” he answered, with a boldly undisguised significance.
Lady Eynesford turned quickly on him, a haughty rebuke on her lips, but he did not quail. He smiled his bitter smile again, and she turned away with her words unspoken.
A silence followed. c.o.xon was wondering if his hint had gone too far.
Lady Eynesford wondered how far he had meant it to carry. The idea of danger there was new and strange, and perhaps absurd, but infinitely disagreeable and disquieting.
”Well, good-bye, Lady Eynesford,” he began.
”No, don't go,” she answered. But before she could say more, there was a sudden stir in the footpath, voices broke out in eager talk, groups formed, and men ran from one to the other. Women's high voices asked for the news, and men's deep tones declared it in answer. c.o.xon turned eagerly to look, and as he did so, Kilshaw's carriage dashed up. Kilshaw sat inside, with the evening paper in his hand. He hurriedly greeted Lady Eynesford, and went on--
”Pray excuse me, but have you seen Sir Robert Perry? I am most anxious to find him.”
”He's there on the path,” answered c.o.xon, and Kilshaw leapt to the ground.
”Run and listen, and come and tell me,” cried Lady Eynesford, and c.o.xon, hastening off, overtook Kilshaw just as the latter came upon Sir Robert Perry.
The news soon spread. The Premier, conscious of his danger, had determined on a demonstration of his power. On the Sunday before that eventful, much-discussed Monday, when the critical clause was to come before the Legislative a.s.sembly, he and his followers had decided to convene ma.s.s-meetings throughout the country, in every const.i.tuency whose member was a waverer, or suspected of being one of ”c.o.xon's rats,”
as somebody--possibly Captain Heseltine--had nicknamed them. This was bad, Kilshaw declared. But far worse remained: in the capital itself, in that very Park in which they were, there was to be an immense meeting: the Premier himself would speak, and the thousands who listened were to threaten the recreant Legislature with vengeance if it threw out the people's Minister.
”It's nothing more or less than an attempt to terrorise us,” declared Sir Robert, in calm and deliberate tones. ”It's a most unconst.i.tutional and dangerous thing.”
And Kilshaw endorsed his chief's views in less measured tones.
”If there's bloodshed, on his head be it! If he appeals to force, by Jove, he shall have it!”
Amid all this ferment the Premier walked by, half hidden by Alicia Derosne's horse.
”What is the excitement?” she exclaimed.
”My last shot,” he answered, smiling. ”Good-bye. Go and hear me abused.”
Lady Eynesford would have been none the happier for knowing that Alicia thought, and Medland found, a smile answer enough.
CHAPTER XVI.
A LEAKY VESSEL.