Part 26 (1/2)

”You are becoming theatrical again,” said the King.

”No, no,” said Max, ”but my brain is taking fire; an angel warned me of it in a dream, and behold it has come true. I have been seeing things.”

”Your Uncle Nostrum won't be pleased,” remarked the King.

”He never is,” said Max. ”Discontent is his prevailing virtue. Give himself something to be discontented about, then he can go down to his house justified.”

”The Prime Minister has already recommended him,” went on the King, ”at least, said he would not oppose; but I don't know what he'll say to this.”

”Nor do I,” said Max, ”and I don't care; neither do you.”

The King opened his eyes as though he had been surprised in some secret--how did Max know that? And then his mind traveled a few months further on; yes, it was quite true, he did not now care in the least.

What he had made up his mind to do had released him from all ministerial terrors; and as he contemplated the relief in his own case his thoughts turned to that bright youth over whose head so unlooked-for a fate was now impending; how dramatic it would be! And here was Max, all unbeknownst, harnessing himself to the wheels of State, pledged, unable to run away. It was just one more turn in the toils which a simple-minded man of gentle and retiring character was able to wind around the scheming lives of others. By at last daring to be himself he had become a power.

”Very well. I will see that it is arranged,” he said. ”Yes, it is perhaps time you had some experience in presiding over--over boards and all that sort of thing. I shan't last for ever; I don't feel like it.”

And he shook his head sadly, for he liked to be sorry for himself; nothing helped him more to bear up under the troubles of life.

”My dear father,” said Max, with some fondness of tone, ”you know that the prospect of going for your cure always depresses you; but as you insist on doing it you must pay the penalty. And when you are taking those waters which so upset your digestion, and deprive you of the flesh which nature meant you to wear, then think of me--not talking any longer, but really up and doing--preparing myself at last to follow in your footsteps. Now in this land of Jingalo, in the very heart of its social and commercial system, I am going to make history.”

”Oh, you think so?” said the King to himself. ”Young man, before you have much more than begun, you may have to come out of it! You can't do that sort of thing when you are in my shoes.”

And then he bade Max a benevolent good-bye and went off to his cure; and Max, a.s.sured of his seat upon the forthcoming Commission, went off to his.

III

”How am I to dress for this business?” Max had inquired; it was one of the first practical problems to be solved, and an important one.

”If you don't mind,” said Sister Jenifer, ”you had better dress like a Socialist. Wear a very soft hat, a very low collar, and a very red or green tie, done loose in the French fas.h.i.+on, and n.o.body will wonder at your looking clean, or at your asking questions. Young Socialists come here to study the social problem and to show themselves off, and in a vague sort of way the people have begun to understand them; and though they look upon them as cranks, they don't any longer think they are inspectors or charity agents--the two things you must avoid.”

”Dress,” said Max, ”has a very subtle effect upon the character. At a fancy-dress ball, last season, I wore a Cardinal's robe--there is a portrait of one in the British National Gallery rather like me--and it took me a month to get rid of the effects. If I turn into a Socialist, therefore, it will be upon your advice.”

”As far as politics go it matters very little what you turn into,” said Sister Jenifer.

”What a statement!” exclaimed Max.

”It is perfectly true,” she said. ”At present what we are fighting is ignorance and indifference; in comparison to that the mere theory of government doesn't matter, for nothing is going to succeed while one half of society neither knows nor cares how the other half lives. Your politicians are welcome to any theories they can find tenable, if only they will face facts.”

”What are your own politics?”

”I haven't any; I haven't room for them. My only aim is just to get that one half of the community to come and look with understanding at the other half; and then service, I know, would follow. It won't until they do.”

”Well, you are making me look,” said Max.

”Yet I have not been able to make my father.”

”Has he never been here?”

”He has opened churches.”