CHAPTER XXXII.
THE WORLD BECOMES COLD.
A great deal was said by very many persons in London as to themurderous attack which had been made by Mr. Kennedy on Phineas Finnin Judd Street, but the advice given by Mr. Slide in The People'sBanner to the police was not taken. No public or official inquirywas made into the circumstance. Mr. Kennedy, under the care of hiscousin, retreated to Scotland; and, as it seemed, there was to bean end of it. Throughout the month of March various smaller boltswere thrust both at Phineas and at the police by the editor ofthe above-named newspaper, but they seemed to fall without mucheffect. No one was put in prison; nor was any one ever examined. But,nevertheless, these missiles had their effect. Everybody knew thatthere had been a "row" between Mr. Kennedy and Phineas Finn, and thatthe "row" had been made about Mr. Kennedy's wife. Everybody knewthat a pistol had been fired at Finn's head; and a great many peoplethought that there had been some cause for the assault. It wasalleged at one club that the present member for Tankerville had spentthe greater part of the last two years at Dresden, and at anotherthat he had called on Mr. Kennedy twice, once down in Scotland,and once at the hotel in Judd Street, with a view of inducing thatgentleman to concede to a divorce. There was also a very romanticstory afloat as to an engagement which had existed between Lady Lauraand Phineas Finn before the lady had been induced by her father tomarry the richer suitor. Various details were given in corroborationof these stories. Was it not known that the Earl had purchased thesubmission of Phineas Finn by a seat for his borough of Loughton?Was it not known that Lord Chiltern, the brother of Lady Laura, hadfought a duel with Phineas Finn? Was it not known that Mr. Kennedyhimself had been as it were coerced into quiescence by the singularfact that he had been saved from garotters in the street by theopportune interference of Phineas Finn? It was even suggested thatthe scene with the garotters had been cunningly planned by PhineasFinn, that he might in this way be able to restrain the anger ofthe husband of the lady whom he loved. All these stories were verypretty; but as the reader, it is hoped, knows, they were all untrue.Phineas had made but one short visit to Dresden in his life. LadyLaura had been engaged to Mr. Kennedy before Phineas had ever spokento her of his love. The duel with Lord Chiltern had been aboutanother lady, and the seat at Loughton had been conferred uponPhineas chiefly on account of his prowess in extricating Mr. Kennedyfrom the garotters,--respecting which circumstance it may be saidthat as the meeting in the street was fortuitous, the reward wasgreater than the occasion seemed to require.
While all these things were being said Phineas became something of ahero. A man who is supposed to have caused a disturbance between twomarried people, in a certain rank of life, does generally receive acertain meed of admiration. A man who was asked out to dinner twicea week before such rumours were afloat, would probably receive doublethat number of invitations afterwards. And then to have been shotat by a madman in a room, and to be the subject of the venom of aPeople's Banner, tends also to Fame. Other ladies besides MadameGoesler were anxious to have the story from the very lips of thehero, and in this way Phineas Finn became a conspicuous man. ButFame begets envy, and there were some who said that the member forTankerville had injured his prospects with his party. It may be verywell to give a dinner to a man who has caused the wife of a lateCabinet Minister to quarrel with her husband; but it can hardly beexpected that he should be placed in office by the head of the partyto which that late Cabinet Minister belonged. "I never saw such afellow as you are," said Barrington Erle to him. "You are alwaysgetting into a mess."
"Nobody ought to know better than you how false all these calumniesare." This he said because Erle and Lady Laura were cousins.
"Of course they are calumnies; but you had heard them before, andwhat made you go poking your head into the lion's mouth?"
Mr. Bonteen was very much harder upon him than was Barrington Erle."I never liked him from the first, and always knew he would not runstraight. No Irishman ever does." This was said to Viscount Fawn, adistinguished member of the Liberal party, who had but lately beenmarried, and was known to have very strict notions as to the bonds ofmatrimony. He had been heard to say that any man who had interferedwith the happiness of a married couple should be held to havecommitted a capital offence.
"I don't know whether the story about Lady Laura is true."
"Of course it's true. All the world knows it to be true. He wasalways there; at Loughlinter, and at Saulsby, and in PortmanSquare after she had left her husband. The mischief he has done isincalculable. There's a Conservative sitting in poor Kennedy's seatfor Dunross-shire."
"That might have been the case anyway."
"Nothing could have turned Kennedy out. Don't you remember how hebehaved about the Irish Land Question? I hate such fellows."
"If I thought it true about Lady Laura--"
Lord Fawn was again about to express his opinion in regard tomatrimony, but Mr. Bonteen was too impetuous to listen to him. "It'sout of the question that he should come in again. At any rate if hedoes, I won't. I shall tell Gresham so very plainly. The women willdo all that they can for him. They always do for a fellow of thatkind."
Phineas heard of it;--not exactly by any repetition of the wordsthat were spoken, but by chance phrases, and from the looks of men.Lord Cantrip, who was his best friend among those who were certainto hold high office in a Liberal Government, did not talk to himcheerily,--did not speak as though he, Phineas, would as a matterof course have some place assigned to him. And he thought that Mr.Gresham was hardly as cordial to him as he might be when they metin the closer intercourse of the House. There was always a wordor two spoken, and sometimes a shaking of hands. He had no rightto complain. But yet he knew that something was wanting. We cangenerally read a man's purpose towards us in his manner, if hispurposes are of much moment to us.
Phineas had written to Lady Laura, giving her an account of theoccurrence in Judd Street on the 1st of March, and had received fromher a short answer by return of post. It contained hardly more thana thanksgiving that his life had not been sacrificed, and in a day ortwo she had written again, letting him know that she had determinedto consult her father. Then on the last day of the month he receivedthe following letter:--
Dresden, March 27th, 18--.
MY DEAR FRIEND,--
At last we have resolved that we will go back to England,--almost at once. Things have gone so rapidly that I hardly know how to explain them all, but that is Papa's resolution. His lawyer, Mr. Forster, tells him that it will be best, and goes so far as to say that it is imperative on my behalf that some steps should be taken to put an end to the present state of things. I will not scruple to tell you that he is actuated chiefly by considerations as to money. It is astonishing to me that a man who has all his life been so liberal should now in his old age think so much about it. It is, however, in no degree for himself. It is all for me. He cannot bear to think that my fortune should be withheld from me by Mr. Kennedy while I have done nothing wrong. I was obliged to show him your letter, and what you said about the control of money took hold of his mind at once. He thinks that if my unfortunate husband be insane, there can be no difficulty in my obtaining a separation on terms which would oblige him or his friends to restore this horrid money.
Of course I could stay if I chose. Papa would not refuse to find a home for me here. But I do agree with Mr. Forster that something should be done to stop the tongues of ill-conditioned people. The idea of having my name dragged through the newspapers is dreadful to me; but if this must be done one way or the other, it will be better that it should be done with truth. There is nothing that I need fear,--as you know so well.
I cannot look forward to happiness anywhere. If the question of separation were once settled, I do not know whether I would not prefer returning here to remaining in London. Papa has got tired of the place, and wants, he says, to see Saulsby once again before he dies. What can I say in answer to thi
s, but that I will go? We have sent to have the house in Portman Square got ready for us, and I suppose we shall be there about the 15th of next month. Papa has instructed Mr. Forster to tell Mr. Kennedy's lawyer that we are coming, and he is to find out, if he can, whether any interference in the management of the property has been as yet made by the family. Perhaps I ought to tell you that Mr. Forster has expressed surprise that you did not call on the police when the shot was fired. Of course I can understand it all. God bless you.
Your affectionate friend,
L. K.
Phineas was obliged to console himself by reflecting that if sheunderstood him of course that was everything. His first and greatduty in the matter had been to her. If in performing that duty he hadsacrificed himself, he must bear his undeserved punishment like aman. That he was to be punished he began to perceive too clearly. Theconviction that Mr. Daubeny must recede from the Treasury Bench afterthe coming debate became every day stronger, and within the littleinner circles of the Liberal party the usual discussions were madeas to the Ministry which Mr. Gresham would, as a matter of course,be called upon to form. But in these discussions Phineas Finn didnot find himself taking an assured and comfortable part. LaurenceFitzgibbon, his countryman,--who in the way of work had never beenworth his salt,--was eager, happy, and without a doubt. Others of theold stagers, men who had been going in and out ever since they hadbeen able to get seats in Parliament, stood about in clubs, and inlobbies, and chambers of the House, with all that busy, magpie airwhich is worn only by those who have high hopes of good things tocome speedily. Lord Mount Thistle was more sublime and ponderousthan ever, though they who best understood the party declared thathe would never again be invited to undergo the cares of office. Hislordship was one of those terrible political burdens, engenderedoriginally by private friendship or family considerations, whichone Minister leaves to another. Sir Gregory Grogram, the great Whiglawyer, showed plainly by his manner that he thought himself at lastsecure of reaching the reward for which he had been struggling allhis life; for it was understood by all men who knew anything thatLord Weazeling was not to be asked again to sit on the Woolsack.No better advocate or effective politician ever lived; but it wassupposed that he lacked dignity for the office of first judge inthe land. That most of the old lot would come back was a matter ofcourse.
There would be the Duke,--the Duke of St. Bungay, who had for yearspast been "the Duke" when Liberal administrations were discussed, andthe second Duke, whom we know so well; and Sir Harry Coldfoot, andLegge Wilson, Lord Cantrip, Lord Thrift, and the rest of them. Therewould of course be Lord Fawn, Mr. Ratler, and Mr. Erle. The thing wasso thoroughly settled that one was almost tempted to think that thePrime Minister himself would have no voice in the selections to bemade. As to one office it was acknowledged on all sides that a doubtexisted which would at last be found to be very injurious,--as somethought altogether crushing,--to the party. To whom would Mr. Greshamentrust the financial affairs of the country? Who would be the newChancellor of the Exchequer? There were not a few who inferred thatMr. Bonteen would be promoted to that high office. During the lasttwo years he had devoted himself to decimal coinage with a zeal onlysecond to that displayed by Plantagenet Palliser, and was accustomedto say of himself that he had almost perished under his exertions. Itwas supposed that he would have the support of the present Duke ofOmnium,--and that Mr. Gresham, who disliked the man, would be coercedby the fact that there was no other competitor. That Mr. Bonteenshould go into the Cabinet would be gall and wormwood to many brotherLiberals; but gall and wormwood such as this have to be swallowed.The rising in life of our familiar friends is, perhaps, the bitterestmorsel of the bitter bread which we are called upon to eat in life.But we do eat it; and after a while it becomes food to us,--when wefind ourselves able to use, on behalf, perhaps, of our children, theinfluence of those whom we had once hoped to leave behind in the raceof life. When a man suddenly shoots up into power few suffer from itvery acutely. The rise of a Pitt can have caused no heart-burning.But Mr. Bonteen had been a hack among the hacks, had filled the usualhalf-dozen places, had been a junior Lord, a Vice-President, a DeputyController, a Chief Commissioner, and a Joint Secretary. His hopeshad been raised or abased among the places of L1,000, L1,200, orL1,500 a year. He had hitherto culminated at L2,000, and had beensupposed with diligence to have worked himself up to the top ofthe ladder, as far as the ladder was accessible to him. And now hewas spoken of in connection with one of the highest offices of theState! Of course this created much uneasiness, and gave rise tomany prophecies of failure. But in the midst of it all no officewas assigned to Phineas Finn; and there was a general feeling, notexpressed, but understood, that his affair with Mr. Kennedy stood inhis way.
Quintus Slide had undertaken to crush him! Could it be possible thatso mean a man should be able to make good so monstrous a threat?The man was very mean, and the threat had been absurd as well asmonstrous; and yet it seemed that it might be realised. Phineas wastoo proud to ask questions, even of Barrington Erle, but he feltthat he was being "left out in the cold," because the editor of ThePeople's Banner had said that no government could employ him; and atthis moment, on the very morning of the day which was to usher in thegreat debate, which was to be so fatal to Mr. Daubeny and his ChurchReform, another thunderbolt was hurled. The "we" of The People'sBanner had learned that the very painful matter, to which they hadbeen compelled by a sense of duty to call the public attention inreference to the late member for Dunross-shire and the present memberfor Tankerville, would be brought before one of the tribunals of thecountry, in reference to the matrimonial differences between Mr.Kennedy and his wife. It would be in the remembrance of their readersthat the unfortunate gentleman had been provoked to fire a pistolat the head of the member for Tankerville,--a circumstance which,though publicly known, had never been brought under the notice ofthe police. There was reason to hope that the mystery might nowbe cleared up, and that the ends of justice would demand that acertain document should be produced, which they,--the "we,"--had beenvexatiously restrained from giving to their readers, although it hadbeen most carefully prepared for publication in the columns of ThePeople's Banner. Then the thunderbolt went on to say that there wasevidently a great move among the members of the so-called Liberalparty, who seemed to think that it was only necessary that theyshould open their mouths wide enough in order that the sweets ofoffice should fall into them. The "we" were quite of a differentopinion. The "we" believed that no Minister for many a long day hadbeen so firmly fixed on the Treasury Bench as was Mr. Daubeny at thepresent moment. But this at any rate might be inferred;--that shouldMr. Gresham by any unhappy combination of circumstances be calledupon to form a Ministry, it would be quite impossible for him toinclude within it the name of the member for Tankerville. This wasthe second great thunderbolt that fell,--and so did the work ofcrushing our poor friend proceed.
There was a great injustice in all this; at least so Phineasthought;--injustice, not only from the hands of Mr. Slide, who wasunjust as a matter of course, but also from those who ought to havebeen his staunch friends. He had been enticed over to England almostwith a promise of office, and he was sure that he had done nothingwhich deserved punishment, or even censure. He could not condescendto complain,--nor indeed as yet could he say that there was groundfor complaint. Nothing had been done to him. Not a word had beenspoken,--except those lying words in the newspapers which he was tooproud to notice. On one matter, however, he was determined to befirm. When Barrington Erle had absolutely insisted that he shouldvote upon the Church Bill in opposition to all that he had said uponthe subject at Tankerville, he had stipulated that he should have anopportunity in the great debate which would certainly take place ofexplaining his conduct,--or, in other words, that the privilege ofmaking a speech should be accorded to him at a time in which verymany members would no doubt attempt to speak and would attempt invain. It may be imagined,--probably still is imagined by a greatmany,--that no such pledge a
s this could be given, that the rightto speak depends simply on the Speaker's eye, and that energy atthe moment in attracting attention would alone be of account to aneager orator. But Phineas knew the House too well to trust to sucha theory. That some preliminary assistance would be given to thetravelling of the Speaker's eye, in so important a debate, he knewvery well; and he knew also that a promise from Barrington Erle orfrom Mr. Ratler would be his best security. "That will be all right,of course," said Barrington Erle to him on the evening the day beforethe debate: "We have quite counted on your speaking." There had beena certain sullenness in the tone with which Phineas had asked hisquestion as though he had been labouring under a grievance, and hefelt himself rebuked by the cordiality of the reply. "I suppose wehad better fix it for Monday or Tuesday," said the other. "We hopeto get it over by Tuesday, but there is no knowing. At any rate youshan't be thrown over." It was almost on his tongue,--the entirestory of his grievance, the expression of his feeling that he was notbeing treated as one of the chosen; but he restrained himself. Heliked Barrington Erle well enough, but not so well as to justify himin asking for sympathy.
Nor had it been his wont in any of the troubles of his life to askfor sympathy from a man. He had always gone to some woman;--in olddays to Lady Laura, or to Violet Effingham, or to Madame Goesler. Bythem he could endure to be petted, praised, or upon occasion evenpitied. But pity or praise from any man had been distasteful to him.On the morning of the 1st of April he again went to Park Lane, notwith any formed plan of telling the lady of his wrongs, but driven bya feeling that he wanted comfort, which might perhaps be found there.The lady received him very kindly, and at once inquired as to thegreat political tournament which was about to be commenced. "Yes; webegin to-day," said Phineas. "Mr. Daubeny will speak, I should say,from half-past four till seven. I wonder you don't go and hear him."
"What a pleasure! To hear a man speak for two hours and a half aboutthe Church of England. One must be very hard driven for amusement!Will you tell me that you like it?"
"I like to hear a good speech."
"But you have the excitement before you of making a good speech inanswer. You are in the fight. A poor woman, shut up in a cage, feelsthere more acutely than anywhere else how insignificant a positionshe fills in the world."
"You don't advocate the rights of women, Madame Goesler?"
"Oh, no. Knowing our inferiority I submit without a grumble; but I amnot sure that I care to go and listen to the squabbles of my masters.You may arrange it all among you, and I will accept what you do,whether it be good or bad,--as I must; but I cannot take so muchinterest in the proceeding as to spend my time in listening where Icannot speak, and in looking when I cannot be seen. You will speak?"
"Yes; I think so."
"I shall read your speech, which is more than I shall do for most ofthe others. And when it is all over, will your turn come?"
"Not mine individually, Madame Goesler."
"But it will be yours individually;--will it not?" she asked withenergy. Then gradually, with half-pronounced sentences, he explainedto her that even in the event of the formation of a LiberalGovernment, he did not expect that any place would be offered to him."And why not? We have been all speaking of it as a certainty."
He longed to inquire who were the all of whom she spoke, but he couldnot do it without an egotism which would be distasteful to him. "Ican hardly tell;--but I don't think I shall be asked to join them."
"You would wish it?"
"Yes;--talking to you I do not see why I should hesitate to say so."
"Talking to me, why should you hesitate to say anything aboutyourself that is true? I can hold my tongue. I do not gossip about myfriends. Whose doing is it?"
"I do not know that it is any man's doing."
"But it must be. Everybody said that you were to be one of them ifyou could get the other people out. Is it Mr. Bonteen?"
"Likely enough. Not that I know anything of the kind; but as I hatehim from the bottom of my heart, it is natural to suppose that he hasthe same feeling in regard to me."
"I agree with you there."
"But I don't know that it comes from any feeling of that kind."
"What does it come from?"
"You have heard all the calumny about Lady Laura Kennedy."
"You do not mean to say that a story such as that has affected yourposition."
"I fancy it has. But you must not suppose, Madame Goesler, that Imean to complain. A man must take these things as they come. No onehas received more kindness from friends than I have, and few perhapsmore favours from fortune. All this about Mr. Kennedy has beenunlucky,--but it cannot be helped."
"Do you mean to say that the morals of your party will be offended?"said Madame Goesler, almost laughing.
"Lord Fawn, you know, is very particular. In sober earnest one cannottell how these things operate; but they do operate gradually. One'sfriends are sometimes very glad of an excuse for not befriendingone."
"Lady Laura is coming home?"
"Yes."
"That will put an end to it."
"There is nothing to put an end to except the foul-mouthed malice ofa lying newspaper. Nobody believes anything against Lady Laura."
"I'm not so sure of that. I believe nothing against her."
"I'm sure you do not, Madame Goesler. Nor do I think that anybodydoes. It is too absurd for belief from beginning to end. Good-bye.Perhaps I shall see you when the debate is over."
"Of course you will. Good-bye, and success to your oratory." ThenMadame Goesler resolved that she would say a few judicious words toher friend, the Duchess, respecting Phineas Finn.