During the next few weeks Peter drifted rapidly into being a Tory. He soon talked himself into a conviction that Marbury must win for national as well as personal reasons. Moreover, in his encounter with the miners of the western end of the constituency, he had an opportunity of measuring the evil effect upon clouded minds of the simple demagogy practised on the other side. Peter provoked more than one riot by the contempt with which he challenged the cheap phrases whereby Mr. Jordan\'s electioneers were campaigning against squires and men of property. Fresh from a contemplation of Haversham\'s quiet heroism and devoted industry, he was amazed at the success with which English landlords were presented as conspirators against humanity. He was even more amazed at the impudent assurance with which their opponents, relying almost entirely upon popular text-books, raised a whirlwind of prejudice in favour of replacing men like Haversham by a committee of tradesmen. Arrived from these hot meetings in the West, Peter would stand beside his window and look upon a stream of visitors waiting upon Haversham. Already Haversham was told by the doctors to be ready[Pg 209] for the end, and he was now deep in a last review of the estate.

Only half a dozen people knew that this was a grand inquest and farewell, but many of the men with whom Haversham spoke realised they would not see him again. Their affection appeared in a solicitude clumsily expressed, but Haversham encouraged no sentiment, and with easy simplicity checked in his visitors any dwelling upon their personal loss.

Peter especially remembered the last time he sat in the small hut. Instinctively he avoided the thing that filled his mind. Not a word was spoken to suggest that Haversham was an invalid. When Peter came to recall their conversation, he realised that he had talked exclusively of himself under Haversham\'s quiet prompting. He still saw the interested smile, lighting the face of his host—now brilliant with fever and eloquent with the gesture of his spirit. Long afterwards, Peter shamefully realised how this man, already in the shadow of death, had, in perfect sincerity, bent as from the clouds to encourage his young egoism and to listen.

A few days later, Peter attended a mass meeting of Marbury\'s opponents. It was Wenderby\'s meeting, held in the western corner of the constituency, in contempt of landowners. Peter knew nothing of Wenderby beyond his public reputation. He saw in Wenderby only the brass and swagger which, for political purposes, he chose to affect. Peter was deceived. Wenderby was a politician[Pg 210] of exquisite finesse, playing the political bruiser partly out of genuine love for his country, partly from a deeply calculated personal ambition. His speech in this by-election well illustrated the intricacy of modern politics under their superficial simplicity. Ostensibly it denounced all Tories and pleaded for economy in naval expenditure. Actually it was Wenderby\'s cover for a set campaign for extorting as much money out of his own party for the Service as he dared.

Wenderby\'s position in Marbury\'s constituency was every way a snare for the politically innocent. He was a friend of Haversham, and usually a guest at Highbury. But, as he wrote to Haversham, to stay at Highbury in the present crisis would perhaps be regarded as a breach of political decency. Peter, seeing in Wenderby the public enemy of a nobleman whose hospitality the speaker had himself enjoyed, could not contain his rage. Wenderby\'s rhetorical periods were launched with deadly effect at a simmering audience.

At the close of the meeting, Peter, red with anger, rose to ask whether certain remarks concerning the landlords of England were intended to have a personal and local application. Wenderby, seeing he had only to do with a youngster who had lost his temper, smoothly evaded him. Peter sprang to his feet:

"Sir—" he began.

Immediately there were shouts of "Order!"[Pg 211] and "Turn him out!" Peter obstinately stood.

"I insist," he shouted, "that my question be answered. An infamous insinuation——"

At this point Peter was choked by half a dozen dirty hands grabbing from all quarters at his neck. He was thrust gasping and struggling from the hall—his coat in ribbons. His battered hat and collar were derisively thrown after him, as he bitterly explained to the police that he was not drunk and disorderly.

Peter showed himself that night to Marbury and stormily told his tale. Marbury, to his mortification, only laughed.

"What is amusing you?" asked Peter, very short and stony.

"Everything."

"For example?"

"I don\'t know where to begin. First, you were shouting at the wrong man. Wenderby is the favourite godson of Uncle Eustace. He\'s the only man we can trust."

"But he\'s on the other side."

"In a way he is."

"He will lose you the seat."

"Perhaps. This by-election is only an incident. Wenderby\'s speech to-night was one of a series. Unfortunately it happens to lie in our constituency. Wenderby has to manage his own people."

Peter flung up his hands. "I don\'t understand these politics."

[Pg 212]

Marbury looked affectionately at Peter. Peter had met Marbury going to his room. He was with............