"I do not feel sure,but I mean to try.First,for simple right and conscience;secondly,because if Mr.Vermilye is not saved from arrest by being placed in Parliament,he will be outlawed and driven safe out of the country.You see?"Ay,I did,only too well.Though I foresaw that whatever John was about to do,it must necessarily be something that would run directly counter to Lord Luxmore--and he had only just signed the lease of Enderley Mills.Still,if right to be done,he ought to do it at all risks,at all costs;and I knew his wife would say so.
We came to the foot of Kingswell Hill,and saw the little hamlet--with its grey old houses,its small,ancient church,guarded by enormous yew-trees,and clothed with ivy that indicated centuries of growth.
A carriage overtook us here;in it were two gentlemen,one of whom bowed in a friendly manner to John.He returned it.
"This is well;I shall have one honest gentleman to deal with to-day.""Who is he?"
"Sir Ralph Oldtower,from whom I bought Longfield.An excellent man--I like him--even his fine old Norman face,like one of his knightly ancestors on the tomb in Kingswell church.There's something pleasant about his stiff courtesy and his staunch Toryism;for he fully believes in it,and acts up to his belief.A true English gentleman,and I respect him.""Yet,John,Norton Bury calls you a democrat.""So I am,for I belong to the people.But I nevertheless uphold a true aristocracy--the BEST MEN of the country,--do you remember our Greeks of old?These ought to govern,and will govern,one day,whether their patent of nobility be births and titles,or only honesty and brains."Thus he talked on,and I liked to hear him,for talking was rare in his busy life of constant action.I liked to observe how during these ten years his mind had brooded over many things;how it had grown,strengthened,and settled itself,enlarging both its vision and its aspirations;as a man does,who,his heart at rest in a happy home,has time and will to look out from thence into the troublous world outside,ready to do his work there likewise.That John was able to do it--ay,beyond most men--few would doubt who looked into his face;strong with the strength of an intellect which owed all its development to himself alone;calm with the wisdom which,if a man is ever to be wise,comes to him after he has crossed the line of thirty years.In that face,where day by day Time was writing its fit lessons--beautiful,because they were so fit--I ceased to miss the boyish grace,and rejoiced in the manhood present,in the old age that was to be.
It seemed almost too short a journey,when,putting his hand on the mare's bridle--the creature loved him,and turned to lick his arm the minute he came near--John stopped me to see the view from across Kingswell churchyard.
"Look,what a broad valley,rich in woods,and meadow-land,and corn.
How quiet and blue lie the Welsh hills far away.It does one good to look at them.Nay,it brings back a little bit of me which rarely comes uppermost now,as it used to come long ago,when we read your namesake,and Shakspeare,and that Anonymous Friend who has since made such a noise in the world.I delight in him still.Think of a man of business liking Coleridge.""I don't see why he should not."
"Nor I.Well,my poetic tastes may come out more at Enderley.Or perhaps when I am an old man,and have fought the good fight,and--holloa,there!Matthew Hales,have they made you drunk already?"The man--he was an old workman of ours--touched his hat,and tried to walk steadily past "the master,"who looked at once both stern and sad.
"I thought it would be so!--I doubt if there is a voter in all Kingswell who has not got a bribe.""It is the same everywhere,"I said."What can one man do against it,single-handed?""Single-handed or not,every man ought to do what he can.And no man knows how much he can do till he tries."So saying,he went into the large parlour of the Luxmore Arms,where the election was going on.
A very simple thing,that election!Sir Ralph Oldtower,who was sheriff,sat at a table,with his son,the grave-looking young man who had been with him in the carriage;near them were Mr.Brithwood of the Mythe,and the Earl of Luxmore.
The room was pretty well filled with farmers'labourers and the like.
We entered,making little noise;but John's head was taller than most heads present;the sheriff saw him at once,and bowed courteously.
So did young Mr.Herbert Oldtower,so did the Earl of Luxmore.
Richard Brithwood alone took no notice,but turned his back and looked another way.
It was now many years since I had seen the 'squire,Lady Caroline's husband.He had fulfilled the promise of his youth,and grown into a bloated,coarse-featured,middle-aged man;such a man as one rarely meets with now-a-days;for even I,Phineas Fletcher,have lived to see so great a change in manners and morals,that intemperance,instead of being the usual characteristic of "a gentleman,"has become a rare failing--a universally-contemned disgrace.
"Less noise there!"growled Mr.Brithwood."Silence,you fellows at the door!Now,Sir Ralph,let's get the business over,and be back for dinner."Sir Ralph turned his stately grey head to the light,put on his gold spectacles,and began to read the writ of election.As he finished,the small audience set up a feeble cheer.
