The Day of Judgment. Hocking Joseph
Bolitho will be here in half an hour," said the father.
"Do you know if he is bringing Mary with him?" asked Ned.
"I am not sure," replied the father. "I have done my best for you, my lad."
"I mean to have her," said the young man. "I never really cared for a girl before, and I shall never care for another. Besides, why is the case hopeless?"
"I mean you shall have her," replied the father. "But you must remember, my lad, that these Bolithos belong to a very old family, and they don't look upon money as everything. We're not county people, and they are, although they visit us as friends. Still, I can buy up half the county people, and I've done my best to persuade him to bring Mary with him. When I was at Mr. Bolitho's house last, I inquired if she had any matrimonial engagement, but as far as I could gather she's still fancy free, so let's hope for the best, Ned."
"What time does the meeting commence?" asked the son.
"Not until nine o'clock," was the reply. "We shall have plenty of time for a smoke and a chat after dinner before those fellows come."
A little later there was a sound of wheels upon the drive. Both father and son rushed to the door, and to their delight they found not only Mr. Bolitho but his daughter as well.
"This is splendid!" cried Mr. Wilson senior. "I was afraid Miss Bolitho would not be able to come. Ah, Emily, here's your friend. We are glad to see you. I am afraid you'll think that Lancashire people are a little rough, but we yield to none in the warmth of our welcome."
Although this speech seemed correct enough, young Edward Wilson felt rather uneasy. He wondered whether those of Mr. Bolitho's class would have met him in a similar way. In spite of the fact that he declared himself deeply in love with the young lady who had now gone upstairs with his sister, he did not feel comfortable in her presence. There seemed to be always an invisible barrier between them. Still, she was there, and he meant to make the most of his opportunities; and if the plans which had been made bore fruit, he trusted that he would see a great deal of her in the future.
The party that sat round the dinner table was gay, but no reference was made to the ostensible object of Mr. Bolitho's visit. When nine o'clock came, however, it was evident that there were several new-comers, and presently the two Wilsons led the way to the library, while Mr. Bolitho followed with a half-interested, half-bored look on his face. He shook hands with a number of men who had gathered in the room. Evidently they were nearly all opulent, keen-minded, successful men, but he could not help feeling pleased at the deference which each of them paid to him. Even as they did, he realised that he was not of their class. After all, a wealthy cotton manufacturer occupies a different position from that of an eminent barrister who belongs to an old county family.
They quickly made known their business. "The truth of it is, Mr. Bolitho," said the leading spokesman, "Mr. Carcliffe is resigning, and we want someone to fight our battles. The socialistic and labour element has become very strong, and unless we are strongly led, our side will be beaten. And so we have come to the conclusion that if you will say 'Yes,' you are our best man."
It was a roughly spoken speech, but Mr. Bolitho understood perfectly, and the proposal appealed to him strongly. He had long encouraged political aspirations, and here was his opportunity. To be the Member of the important borough of Brunford, which lay at the heart of the manufacturing district, promised all sorts of scope for his ambition. Owing to his success at the Bar he had a large income, and more than one had suggested to him that if he entered Parliament he would be a most eligible candidate for the post of either Solicitor- or Attorney-General, while even higher things might be within his grasp in the future. As it was, he discussed the various pros and cons with considerable eagerness and cordiality. As far as he could see, there was every probability of success. The present Member had been elected by a clear thousand majority, and he had sufficient faith in himself to believe that he could not only maintain that majority but increase it.
"By the way," he said at length, "have the other side selected their man?"
"Well, yes and no," was the reply. "From what we hear they have not fastened upon a party man, but they have approached young Paul Stepaside."
Mr. Bolitho gave a look of astonishment. "What!" he cried. "Stepaside! the fellow who a year or two ago——" And then he stopped.
"Yes," was the reply.
"But he hasn't been long out of prison."
"No," was the rejoinder. "But he's a remarkable chap, is Stepaside, and there have been all sorts of foolish notions in the town so that he's become very popular."
"I suppose these working-men's unions will pay his expenses, then?" said Mr. Bolitho.
"I am not so sure of that," replied the chairman of the association. "You see, Stepaside started manufacturing a little more than a year ago, and he's been phenomenally successful. His partner is a very able chap, too, and they know their business. So that I fancy Stepaside will be able to pay his own expenses."
"And has he the confidence of the people?"
"He's the confidence of a certain class," was the reply, "and he would be a strong candidate."
Mr. Bolitho looked thoughtful. "This is very awkward!" he said.
"You don't mean to say," said the chairman, "that this fact will alter your decision?"
"No," he replied slowly. "I don't quite say that, but it puts a new face on the question. You see, it will be awkward for me to oppose a man in politics whom, less than two years ago, I practically sent to gaol. Still, it gives a certain piquancy to the situation. Does he know much about politics, by the way?"
"No, I don't think he does," replied the chairman of the association. "And that's where our strength will lie. He's just an agitator, just a clever speaker who can appeal to men's passions, but when he's faced with facts he will be nowhere."
There was a short silence after this. It was evident that some present did not agree with what had been said, but no one spoke a word. All seemed to be afraid lest Mr. Bolitho would fail them at this juncture, and they looked upon him as the man most likely to lead them to victory.
After they were gone Mr. Bolitho talked long and gravely with Mr. Wilson.
"I tell you," said the manufacturer, "if you fail us now, Mr. Bolitho, your conduct will be misinterpreted."
Mr. Bolitho looked at the other questioningly.
"The truth of it is," went on Mr. Wilson, "a great many foolish things have gone abroad since Stepaside's trial, and the belief is that he wasn't treated fairly. The chaps who got off easily confessed, after their imprisonment, that Stepaside had tried to dissuade them from doing what they did, and so he has been looked upon as a kind of martyr. Many have blamed us for this, and now if you refuse to fight him—well, they'll say you are afraid."
"Afraid!"
"Yes, afraid. They'll say you're afraid to face a public audience, to stand up in a public fight."
Mr. Bolitho gazed steadily on the carpet for a few seconds, and then relit his cigar, which had gone out.
"That settles it, Wilson," he said. "That settles it. I will quickly let the people of Brunford know whether I am afraid or not. You can tell your chairman that I accept."
The manufacturer caught the other man's hand with delight. "By goom," he said, lapsing into the Lancashire dialect, "that's the ticket."
"You can tell him, too," went on the barrister, and his eyes flashed as he spoke, "that I'll fight this for all I'm worth. We'll leave no stone unturned, Wilson, and I'm inclined to think at the end of this election that your man Stepaside will be no longer regarded as a hero."
The following Saturday The Brunford Times announced the fact that Mr. Bolitho, K.C., had accepted a hearty invitation to stand as their candidate for the next election, and a leading article was devoted to him, declaring that, if they had sought all over England, a worthier candidate could not